In all reality most people know me as someone who can’t stand watching TV. I haven’t owned a TV for almost a decade and I have to admit I feel a sense of pride knowing soon I can say “more than a decade.”
Now my TV loving I think feel is only temporary, as I’ve been able to peel myself away at least a few times a week (and once for an amazing two-day hike!). You see; even without electricity, I am somehow managing to watch at least two or three movies a week. And at the end of the day I 
can’t quite ignore the chorus of relief chanting inside my head “OH! Let’s watch a movie!” I blame this entirely on having an interesting life. More specifically on having such an interesting life that I come home at the end of the day utterly exhausted. It doesn’t matter if I spend my day in a workshop intently listening to every syllable of siSwati being spoken, or spend my day talking about computers and reading Dilbert. Lately these mornings I am blown away by how quickly I fell asleep the night before. I put my head under the blanket and pull it up by my teeth (Swazi phrase), and *BAM!* it’s time to make the emafethis. (hint pronounced ema-.fatties)
Don’t know the emafethi’s yet? Delicious fried dough, incredibly scandalous. And our family has brought me a few plates for breakfast in the last two weeks, and my saturated-goodness index pegs out for a few days afterward. Just when I think the day can’t get any better, I step out of the hut and the radiant African sun winks a sm
all hello over the horizon of Mozambique. I put out my solar lights, and come back into sip my coffee and read some more Dilbert. Occasionally I look up and remember that I’m incredibly lucky to be experiencing everything around me.
After my coffee I lock the door, and the rest of the day couldn’t play itself any better. Sometimes it rains on my painstakingly washed by hand, and line drying clothes. I just laugh and take comfort in having at least two pairs of pants. (You win again Nature!) I shake off the laughter and hear the sound of water dumping from our rain gutters into our water tank. “Water in the tank is like money in the bank!” It’s kinda a theme song for Krista and I. There is something beautiful and relieving to know that whatever else happens, you know you’re going to be able to drink water for the next several months. And with rainy season coming, whenever I think about the water level a content smile can be felt on my face. Oh water… how I love you. It’s the simple things in life right?
I continually recognize how fortunate I am, and how life is less stressful here. There’s stress but it doesn’t have the same bitter taste in the mouth, it’s more of a sensed urgency than stress really. Maybe something like biting into your first piece of really tart lemon meringue pie. You know the pie has a reputation for jabbing your taste buds on the initial encounter, but you unhesitatingly accept the fate of sharpness. It’s like that kind of stress. I had an email conversation with Ryan recently. I say conversation meaning that more than 3 emails were exchanged in less than 48 hours. I think that is my new Peace Corps record.
Anyway the conversation has been an attempt to reconcile the two worlds that I have come to know. As per our usual maturity, at least one of the emails had a serious note to it. I simply can’t understand the world I came from anymore, in the same way that I did before I left. As Americans we have life so incredibly good, and if you were to conduct a poll, most Americans would probably say yes. But I want to know how many Americans actually know first-hand how good we have it. The old phrase you can’t see the keyboard for the keys (I mean trees…) feels like it applies. When I’m calm (and before the movie starts) I think about America and what I loved, what I wanted to change, what the BBC says about it everyday, and what I view it as now. And all I can think of is the mindless hours we spend in front of the television. I think it’s obvious:
We as Americans are exhausted.
We need more vacations.
