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Listening to a piece on the BBC radio, about Axel Rose releasing an album after 12 years in the making, has put me into a Rock mood. I’m sitting here listening to Aerosmith, singing Dream On right now. As is often the case, the windless heat of yesterday has disappeared and given way to a beautiful breezy morning. The one down side is that when I leave the doorwalls open for the air, layers of sand cover the floor and every surface in the house...and I am on the 6th floor! The locals tell me there is a wind that will come in a month or so that will literally shower us for some time with Sahara Desert sand; I’m told I’ll have difficulty seeing in front of me. I guess it’s time to buy a pair of shades from one the hundreds of peddlers outside.

Just wanted to check in and tell you a bit about the week. The recovery from the accident included nursing internal bruises around the ribs which has made sleeping on my right side nearly impossible. Going to work this week involved catching taxis as quickly as possible, for I was not emotionally ready to walk much along the streets and relive disturbing images of my accident. I got xrays and nothing serious turned out; I visited the Embassy nurse who said to take it easy for another week. If things don’t improve, she said to make an appointment for a complete examination. My energy level is down, which has frustrated me and obviously prevented me from exercise, running, or baseball =:(

I had dinner with the Public Affairs Officer and his wife at their nicely appointed and Embassy-provided apartment in a downtown high rise. Last week, the day before my accident, I was one of several guests at the Ambassador’s residence. So lately, I have literally been wining and dining with the diplomats; it’s been right up my alley. Additionally, one of my friends here (Carolyn) who works at the Embassy, left keys to her house for me and Inge, one of the other Fulbright teachers. We treated ourselves to a nice evening and dinner there with Tom (the other Fulbrighter) and Abdoulaye, as Carolyn’s cook made us salmon and stuffed Capitaine, a delicious local fish.

I have always thought rasta and braids worn in the U.S. by many, including Bob Marley fans, are so emblematic of being carefree and fundamentally “chill”. So, after many weeks of inquiry, I have located someone who said she could fabricate and attach braids to my hair, my oh so thinning and weak hair. It’s a process common among women, but rare among men, because in general we have such short hair. Generally, guys who wear rasta/braids are sporting their real hair, which has grown impressively long. Well, to make a long story short, Fatima started on my hair yesterday. After more than 5 hours of pulling and twisting and sewing and braiding, about 2/3 of my head is done. I couldn’t sleep last night from the pulling sensation of the braid on my scalp and because of their physical presence which prevented my noggin from finding the pillow. I don’t know how people do it! Fatima is coming back today for probably another 3 hours, but I think I’ll have her undo what she’s done than to complete the process. I have taken a couple pics at this point which I can share with you; the novelty just isn’t cool enough to justify the pain (and the fact that I should only wash my hair once a week). In any case, it has been a relatively cheap experiment. In the U.S., for women, such detailed work could cost upwards of $200. I paid $5 for materials and $10 for labor. Gotta love this place!