Half-Time Show: Gratuitous Poetry, etc.

Dinaledi di a bina
Di opela monate thata
Di bona lefatshe
Di bona Batswana
Dinaledi di bone nna.
Ke a bina
Ke a opela
Le dinaledi.

I very much enjoy writing poetry in a language I don't know. It limits me in a very challenging way.

Now I have a new skirt, as well. It's blue with buffalo on it. Water buffalo are possibly the funniest-looking animals I've ever seen. They look like they're wearing over-greased handlebar moustaches as hats.

On Wednesday, Zen was talking about mythos. Basically, all contemporary rational intellect is only an extension of the myths of yester-year, i.e. the Old Testament. It took about two full pages before I stopped thinking about how much I've missed my Mythos climbing shoes since I wore a hole through the toe of one of them in June. My new climbing shoes are good, but not as awesome as my Mythos.

Talking about climbing, on Thursday I saw a rainbow. Last time I saw a rainbow was while rapelling down from my last climb of the year. It was the first time I had ever seen the full arch of a rainbow. It stretched to infinity across a green valley in the Catskills. Definitely one of those Moments.

I think looking at the stars that night added one more Moment to my memories. I stepped off the combi that day so overwhelmed with ISP frustration that it took all I had to hold back tears. Then, a rainbow, and a sunset, and a night sky, and I happened upon that rare state of uber-meditativeness that is equivalent to watching a film reel of all of the Moments in my life projected among the constellations. Most of those Moments involve a sunrise, a sunset, a starry sky, or an "and-then-I-climbed-a-mountain". There are no mountains here, but that's okay, the Shorobe-ness makes up for it. (The Shorobe-ity? My English grammar is getting a bit rusty.)

I think I'm finally able to move beyond the "hair" stage and into the hair stage. Cool. That transition took about four years the first time I grew hair.

Holy shit, it's November.

This time, the goodbye party involved a well-prepared performance by us of The Beatles' "In My Life". How touching.

Leaving Shorobe feels a lot like going home from sleep-away camp: I'm a little disappointed it's over, but I'm excited to start the next chapter. (Coincidentally, I feel the same way about finishing Zen. Now I'm on to Dune. It's like returning home after an intense vacation.)

Shorobe by the Numbers:
2 = times I've been nearly decapitated by the clothesline because I was looking up at the stars
1/2 = fraction of thimes I actually use the pit latrine at night instead of squatting behind it because one night I saw a cockroach on the wall
4 = average number of times Mokogi cries in a day
43 = degrees celsius
6 = number of potential ISP advisors I've attempted to contact
3 = number of times I heard "The Orange customer you are dialing is unavailable, please try again later" while trying to reach ISP advisors
3 = number of times I got pissed off at the lady on the Orange recording because she sounded so smug
1.5 = cm my hair grows in a month
26 = baths taken in Shorobe
7 = days ahead of me in the Okavango, away from all methods of communication and thought of ISP (yeah, right)

The stars, they are dancing
They sing so sweetly
They watch over the Earth
They watch over the Batswana
The stars, they watch over me.
I am dancing
I am singing
With the stars.