Saturday, July 21, 2007

domestic bliss at la fontaine

A dispatch from the balcony at La Fontaine:

The housemates have all gone to see Montell Jordan (of early 90s "This is how we do it" fame - yes fans, he is still making music!) and I just tore myself away from the weirdness of Game Control to write on the stolen Linksys that wafts in and out of our balcony. Today was a transition day of sorts as the GYPA Immersion just drew to a close - I planned to spend the afternoon at the pool, getting some sun and reading all day (drilling through the library I brought along), but the East African weather gods had other plans (demonstrated angrily by the thunder claps and persistent gray drizzle). Instead I ended up back at Crocodile Cafe, where I've become a sort of pathetic regular (the whole wait-staff knows me now, enough to be forgiving when I forgot my wallet the other day and had to run home to get enough shillings to pay the bill). I don't know how many more banana splits and avocado salads I can tendency to frequent restaurants has clearly translated to Uganda, as staff at Crocodile and Cafe Pap will testify.

I had a fast enough internet connection last night to download two new albums - Stars and Andrew Bird. It's essential to have music for the iPod, as the apartment is right next door to Iguana Cafe, which spouts R&B and mid-90s hip hop until at least 2 a.m. My bedroom window backs up right to the bar. Even so, I really cherish La Fontaine. Richard and Jacob, who work in the restaurant downstairs, are wonderful and seemingly ecstatic whenever we come home. The cleaning staff loves having us here - they baked us a fresh loaf of bread yesterday (heaven) and tonight brought us a TV (complete with rabbit ear antennae) and a chocolate cake with whipped cream - fresh out of the oven. I also learned the skill of cooking on a campstove, which is basically what we have in the kitchen - just two simple burners (our oven is broken and used as a storage cabinet) - the fridge, though new, has door issues (aka it's held on with duct tape and often falls off - much to the annoyance and pain of the person opening the door). Tonight for dinner I made a box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese (yes, I was nostalgic) and I couldn't eat it without applesauce. With little else to occupy my afternoon, I stopped by the nearest fruit stand, bought some apples, and came back and made applesauce myself. Apples, cinnamon and some water in a pan on the stove. Domestic bliss.

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