Day 702

My New Year brings much of the old. So much work still to do, so many people who need this help. No cocktail hour for me--I save my money to buy mosquito nets, pay school fees, mix infant formula. "Auld Lang Syne" rings in my heart. Smiles explode in the sky of the children's faces.

Day 701

Christmas Day passes. The birth of a savior. Where is he now?

Day 691

A boiled yam arrives at my door wrapped in a banana leaf. I would die for these people.

Day 690

Is this really a "holiday season," with so much suffering in the world? The German takes a holiday to his country. I redouble my efforts to help the many that I can.

Day 687

Flowers, today. The blossoming children tend the simple garden.

Day 683

To whom do I owe the simple pleasures of this work: the need of man or the bounty of the Earth?

Day 676

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;

Close to the sun in lonely lands.

Day 675

I walk upon this earth with a light and winsome step, but I shall tarry for the chance to crush a biting insect.

Day 674

What are two hands clapping but the noise of union and harmony, my crushing the German and his relenting?

Day 671

Silence, today. The harvest is beginning. I have removed from my land what was overgrown and fetid.

Day 660

Of you who cast your words of German in mockery and umbrage, I am taken by nothing. For this is the essence of one who helps those in need. Reveal yourself, or upon your shoulders take the absence of my forbearance.

[To my regular readers, a note of apology for having displayed this side of myself. It needed doing. I will return to my regular posting about the good work here shortly.]

Day 659

Many are welcome into my home. Many also are unwelcome. Such is the situation of traveling abroad.

Day 645

I must reconcile with my antagonist. With knitting needles in hand, I shall begin a pair of socks for him.

Day 641

My situation is made clear to the authorities. I return to the village. I rejoice to see and teach the children again.

Day 617

My visa is not of The European Union. The German has no jurisdiction here. Yet, he pretends he is unaware.

Day 616

The German is three men: what his face suggests, what his actions reveal, what his will tries to determine. My people know this and they know their allegiances.

Day 608

He speaks with forked tongue. My seed is sown.

Day 605

My children are many. My children are none. The German does not understand this distinction.

Day 596

I seek a paternity test. The baby is mine not his.

Day 585

My visa situation is resolved and I return. My country is America. The German does not make our laws.

Day 562

Love is lovely

Let it grow

-Eric Clapton

Day 559

A lawyer twists mere words on paper. My truth and love are unlitigated.

Day 541

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,

I took the one less traveled by."

Day 540

I must save my money. After the harvest, the travel season.

Day 534

Love has no bounds.

Day 533

The German is artful with his words. His accusations sting like rusted knife-blades. But my heart is pure. These people need me. And they love me, whatever my words or actions.

Day 531

I have needs that must be met.

Day 530

To hear the young boys singing praise songs--are these not the voices of angels?

Day 511

The rains make the river large with itself. Someone must stop what the German has started.

Day 507

The celebration is finished. I renew my commitment to this work, to these people. The German ruins all that he cannot touch.

Day 497

The village readies my celebration. 500 days among these gentle souls. Despite the German's protestation, I have no intention of leaving.

Day 467

I'm not a bigot. I'm not a racist. I just don't like dahl bhat.

Day 451

Gentle Ahmed, Is that you who has responded to my last post?

Day446

I fear going on Facebook. Would anyone be my friend?

Day 444

35 days on Amoxocillin... Clean flow at last. ..The German never visits. No one views my blog. I am alone.

Day 401

Painful urination. Dark orange discharge. I shall consult "Where There is No Doctor".

Day 395

I underwent my rite of passage and immediately immersed in the cooling waters of the river. I am changed. I am one with my people. What will the german say?

Day 386

I have decided to undergo the traditional tribal rite of passage. My tribal sponsor has told me to procure a double edged razor.

Day 375

The german came by to give me a belated Valentine. He was topless and wearing a floral sarong with calfskin sandals. His reflector sunglasses excited something in me. I am confused.

Day 374

Valentine's Day, 2010 : There is love in my heart, but pain for my people... Evidently, the Winter Games have commenced in Vancouver. For me, life is not a game.

Day 367

A year has passed since I came to this place. News of a major snowstorm on the east coast of the United States does nothing to ebb the rivulets of sweat that flow from my pores in the 100 degree heat and humidity. The german shoots rats with his slingshot. His eyes gleam as sharp stones slice through the viscera of those helpless creatures. My post-malarial symptoms have begun to ebb. And still, no seeds have arrived from the NGO.