Good morning God, GOOD GOD! Good morning.

***** A concerned reader cautiously brought to my attention that I may have a few spelling and grammar errors thus far in my blog, knowing that these are not my strong points, and it has caused a little bit of insecurity within myself in the past. I would like to address this now; it is true, I am not a good speller, and I am very comma happy, they are just so cute and I like people to read my writing as if I were talking to them. So I put in the commas as little pauses or breaths of air. As for referring to my ancestors and spelling the swear damn “dam”, I did this on purpose. I am a very superstitious person and in my eyes you never know what the dead can to do to you, and I rather not find out by cursing these people I never knew. But I still wish they could have spent more time in the sun.**

When I was going through my orientation into Botswana life, we were told that our United States humor would not always translate. We were also told not to talk as openly about sex as it is know that we do in the States, in any context really: jokes, puns, stories, but especially not to make comments or ask questions of any sexual nature to Batswana (meaning the people who live in Botswana). We quickly realize this also meant all HIV/AIDS topics as well, because to the people if asking how they have, in their lives, been effected by HIV/AIDS, if they know anyone, or if they are worried about it at all, it would be as if I was asking them about their sex life and how they practice.

However, with that as my introduction, I have learned since I have been here that although you may no talk about sex, showing off ones sex is a different story. I understand that it is hot out, and culturally many tribal people where different types of clothes and beads on different parts of their bodies, personally I think it is beautiful. What I don’t think is beautiful is public urination, especially when it happens any where for 5 to 20 feet from you. It is true, I understand that nature calls, however these incidences seem to happen up against the building that people are leaving are very near to one that I have personally noted has a bathroom. To be fair I have to say that I have only really had a problem with this at dusk and on, but why so close to me and other people?! Yesterday morning, I woke up naturally on my own around 8:15. Not thinking that any of my friends were up yet I opened up my curtains, for some natural light, and went back to my bed to lie down and read my book (The Autobiography of Malcolm X, a powerful and life changing book) when something catches my little eye off yonder out my window. To my amazement I see a man, not a little boy, but a man, standing on the ledge railing of the residence hall walkway wall, which is directly across the patched crab grassed area used to hang dry clothes from my room. Aside from being concerned for this mans safety I was wondering what he could possibly be looking for, for one of his hands was on his hip while the other was on his forehead making a visor. Which I can confidently say is the international sign of acutely looking for anything at any distance.

I really think I know what he was looking for, and I will let you in on it, please try to calm down, I know you are super excited. Okay here it is, this man, who was glistening in the morning light, had to Must have, been looking for his clothes, because they were no where near his body. There at 8:30 in the morning is a buck naked man standing on a ledge that if it was any windier out (there are reasons that I know it was windy out in which I will not go into detail about) he would have fallen nearly 20+ feet.

Well obviously I put my nose back so far into my book it took me minutes to focus my eyes on the words, and for all of you that have read Malcolm X he was still hustling at this point in the book, so I don’t think he would have been too offended, at least I hope not. I naively thought that 1. By the time I had finished four pages he would be gone. And 2. There was no way that he would have ever been able to see into my room, in which I was lying in my minimal summer PJ’s. However to my surprise when I looked up a second time, my new friend, I’ll call him Bucky for identification sake, was now sitting below the ledge with only his shoulders up being exposed, thankfully. Not so thankfully, Buck S. Naked started waving very enthusiastically in my direction, not wanting to be self absorbed or vain in anyway, I pulled my blanket up to my chin and began to read once again. However, 10 min later when lost in my book I looked up to ponder a point, and Bucky was still there and again tried to waving in my direction, I realized that he wouldn’t have been able to miss my reflective white skin from anywhere and this is when I rolled slyly off of my bed right into an army crawl and only exposing my hands to the window pulled my curtains closed.

This is the last time I have seen Bucky.

I can’t say I miss him. Isn’t this a lovely way to start a Sunday morning? Good morning God. GOOD GOD! Good morning.