Letter #19, March 15, 2003,

Dear Mom and Dad,

Beware the Ides of March!

Thought I'd freak you out a bit by having Amanda mail this from the States. Probably get there faster anyway. Internet was down last week when I was in Mouila but I just got a note from Allison with the flight info for June so at least you know I'm still alive. I'm boiling water for tagliatelle with pesto and really really old Emmental, which appears to have aged into Parmesan. My buddy Serge the Ndende - LBV driver brought me a kilo of Gouda (plain) to add to my kilo of Gouda (cumin) so now I'm in cheese heaven and wondering who to invite over for pizza. Life is rough.

Last weekend I took the AntiSIDA club to Tchibanga to perform their skits at Kara's Soirée SIDA/Rap-Dance contest. We waited for 5 hours before it became clear that the Chevy we had hired was not coming (oil filters -- "there's no General Motors in Ndende." They had tried to "adapt", with much hammering and soldering, a Toyota filter. I knew this wouldn't work. The Nigerian mechanic knew it wouldn't work. ("American car. No good.") Eloi, the driver of the Chevy, with perfect Gabo face-saving technique, insisted that "ça va aller."

So at 18H00 the setting sun lit up Ndende like a Monet painting and Serge, the ol' reliable, forewent dinner, a shower and a change of clothes to take us to Tchibanga. He got stopped by gendarmes, stripped of his papers for his troubles, then made his way back, stranding us, more or less, in the heart of Punu country. Well, we had a few contacts in Tchai-bang, so the kids cleaned up and ate, and I arranged an el-cheapo ride back for 7 am -- it was now 11 pm. The kids killed on their skits, watched the rappers for awhile, then went dancing. I stayed til 3 am to see the Michael Jackson impersonators light themselves on fire and then do "Thriller," and joined my students at the boîte. I'd given them each drink money with the little that was left after paying Serge and Benjo, the ride back, but some had brought money and got wasted -- passed out on the slope up from the boîte. I danced with a few people and we managed to get everyone on the bus home, where they sang SIDA songs until hoarse, and used the condoms I'd given them to make the bus into a capote-mobile. It was very much "trop", but they did a super job on their skits and really impressed everyone, so what can you do?

I stayed in TCH a day then went to Mouila to take care of a rent problem and a visa problem for Erick's girlfriend and to get condoms. Now I'm back planning the mural project and the Club's schedule of exposées, and then -- spring break, for which I will go nowhere and make grilled cheese every day. I may try lasagne too. I have two kilos of cheese -- it's pretty ridicule.

Tonight is the lycée fête and I have to throw my weight around so the club can do their skits. So, off I go.

Love,

Hannah