I got an email from Shea (our oldest) yesterday informing me of his new cell phone number in Africa and he
casually blatantly mentioned that incoming calls were free (
hint hint). I consequently checked out our phone plan (
Vonage) and was pleasantly surprised to find that I could call his region for only 17 cents a minute. A bargain, no less. Now, I just have to put, yet, another time zone in my memory bank, which fortunately is just two hours off from Doha's. Anyway, I dialed him up to find out how his African stint is going. He's currently in a hotel which he lovingly referred to as "the hut". Four walls, a bed, decorative
live lizards on the wall, and a bathroom with hot water. What more
could you want in a country that's vying for the top spot of the world's most underdeveloped nation?
More, obviously. Apparently, tomorrow he's transferring to the "nicest" hotel in the city, while waiting for his house to be ready. As he's telling me this, I can hear donkeys braying, sheep bleating, and Shea fussing about the swarming mosquitoes and diving bats. Malaria, here we come. He said, thus far, it's been hotter than all get out, but on the good side the food has been pretty palatable
(if you don't count the bout of vomiting and diarrhea that he's already encountered). Oh, when you order a cheeseburger with fries,
well, the fries come saddled
in the burger, not as a side. I'm finding that Doha doesn't have
the market cornered on idiosyncrasies. His first purchase from the child hawking street vendor addressing Shea as "hey boss" (in French) was a sword. Starting price: 50,000 of their currency. Selling price: 1,000 or $2.00 (two dollars!). That's what I call building in a little bargaining room. I told him that he needs to document his experiences in a blog, but he said he'd leave it to me to do the reporting for him. He promises that pictures will follow when he has reliable internet service.
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