Sickly.

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Last week, I was invincible. Each morning, I arose from my top bunk, lifted the mandatory mosquito netting, and hopped down to fill myself with nescafe granulated coffee. (yes, I'm mentioning it again.) Whilst other volunteers were lounging about, green in the face or rushing to the restroom, I popped around the homebase, cheery and healthy as ever. "Ah, Africa," I thought, "I've taken your punches and still I am standing!" I laughed in the faces of the sick. "Ha-ha, ho-ho!"

But karma is a funny thing, as we all know. This morning, I crawled out of my bunk, and got tangled in the netting. I tripped a little on the way down, and almost slipped when I put on my flip flops to head to the bathroom. What was going on? Perhaps I just needed coffee. I headed to the breakfast table and sat down. The room started to spin along with my stirring spoon. I glanced fertively from left to right at the other volunteers. I felt their glares! A brave front, I decided, was the best option. I made the long walk to the orphanage, and there, after about an hour, I gave up the fight. I sat with a crying little boy for about half an hour, convincing myself that it was he who needed to relax, not me, and then I called a taxi.

In conclusion, I am sick.

In other news, Ghana won its third game in a row tonight against Morocco. Hohoe is going crazy. All the way to the internet cafe flags were being flown and drums being drummed. Shouts of "yevu!" followed us, we gang of six "white people."

In still other news, Obama '08!!!!

Miadogo.

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