Preparing For Village Movie Night

February 20, Day 569
Tomorrow is movie night. And no one has promoted it, which means no one could show up and I’m stressed about that.

I jump out of bed nice and early and get my act together. Boil water for coffee. Boil water for a bucket bath.

Dijo jumped up at 5 am this morning and wanted to play. I let him outside thinking he had to go to the bathroom and nope, he just wanted to wake me up to play.

LET. ME. SLEEP. DOG.

I snuck in an hour or two more but it wasn’t great sleep.

It’s hot this morning, REALLY hot. I woke up in a pile of my own sweat this morning. It continuously blows my mind that I didn’t have a real fan until this month the entire time I have lived in Botswana. It really makes all the difference in being able to sleep at night! The fact that I suffered for that long is crazy.

Make the eggs for breakfast. Let Dijo outside to run around and grab a bucket. Go outside and water the plants. My American sweet corn has grown quite a bit! I’m such a proud Mama for my plants.

Go inside and take a bucket bath and get ready for work. Feed Dijo and walk him around the neighborhood because I’ve learned that he won’t poop in my yard; he will only go in other yards, which means I have to walk him if I don’t want him to be a hoodlum dog that runs the street.

Get home and pack my lunch and my bags for work. Leave Dijo in the living room with a fan and the windows open.

Ride my bike to work. Bontle is there with Kabo bringing in cases of water and juice and Simba for tomorrow’s movie night. Woo hoo!

I check in with Mma Monnahela and Lone to check that they will be helping with movie night tomorrow, and they both say they will be there. Woo hoo!

My plan is to start a monthly movie night at our village Cultural Centre. Everyone brings their own camp chair and we play a movie on a projector every month and hand out popcorn. In order to watch the movie and get a bag of popcorn they must watch a 10-15 minute STEPS documentary about HIV/AIDS and have a discussion. We teach about HIV and they get to watch a movie. A win win!

I’ve noticed that the Cultural Centre has big signs that they hang in front of the building to promote events. So, I decide to make one.

Okay, so I need flipchart paper and we don’t have any. I walk over to the supplies trailer and ask if they have any paper or markers. They claim to not have any.

Shoot, what will I do?

Walk back to the office and dig around and find an old, used couple of pieces of flipchart paper and decide to use the back of it to draw the sign. I dig through a few drawers and a green and red marker. Okay, cool! Guess it’ll be a red and green sign.

I color, outline, color some more.

It’s lunch time, so I ride my bike home to walk Dijo. Eat a leftover salad, walk Dijo around the block and tell him I live him.

Ride back to work.

Dripping in sweat.

I’m a sweat machine.

There’s never enough water.

Moving on.

I will survive.

It’s fine.

I continue working and call the man who runs the Cultural Centre to see if it’s okay if I put the sign up in front of the building. No answer.

Okay, fine.

Work some more. Chat with Bontle. It’s getting late, so it’s time to hang the sign before I go home. What will I hang it with? We don’t have any tape.

I start digging around the office to find a creative solution to hang a big sign on a fence. Just then, I look up and see the guy from MYSC looking through the window. He has parked his car in front of our office and was about to go home and saw me looking frazzled and puzzled in the office.

“Dumela, Mma. O teng?” he asks through the window.

“Dumela, Rra. I am trying to find something to hang this sign with but we don’t have anything!” I reply.

He reaches his hand through the window and looks at the curtains, where there are two little pieces of string holding the curtains back.

“I think you can use this string here and it should hold up the sign,” he says.

Brilliant!

I poke two holes through the corners of the paper and thread the string through.

Walk down the street carrying the big sign, across the parking lot, through the sand.

Why does it look like it’s going to rain? No way. No. It doesn’t rain here.

I stand by the fence and try to hang the sign, but it starts flopping around in the wind. A man nearby selling sweets at a table sees me struggling and comes running over to help. With no words, we simply work together and get the sign hung up. Perfect!

That’s what I love about Botswana. No matter what, people will always step up to help one another out.

I walk back to the office and grab my things. Hop on my bike and ride home.

Little Dijo is bouncing off the walls happy to see me. I put him on his leash and we go for a walkie around the neighborhood.

Go back inside and I space out on the couch and eat Simba chips for a bit. Dijo sits under my coffee table with his intense, serial killer stare at me eating the chips.

He has an obsession with licking the inside of the Simba chips bags. If I give him my empty bag, he likes to put his head inside of it and run around the house with the bag on his head, licking the flavor. What can I say, my dog likes MSG, just like his mother!

I give him my empty bag and he flops around with it on his head in the living room eating the crumbs.

Goaba texts and says she’s preparing for our trip to Vic Falls, Zimbabwe next week and asks if she should take some malaria medication. I have a bunch of malaria meds that I am given on a regular basis, but don’t need to take since I live below the malaria line in Botswana. I offer to give her some of my medication while we are in Zim and send her pictures of the bottle.

Sit down and create a social media post to promote movie night tomorrow on Facebook while Dijo runs around outside in the yard.

Watch a show. Give Dijo belly rubs.

Shower.

Bed.

Boroko
I jump out of bed nice and early and get my act together. Boil water for coffee. Boil water for a bucket bath.

Dijo jumped up at 5 am this morning and wanted to play. I let him outside thinking he had to go to the bathroom and nope, he just wanted to wake me up to play.

LET. ME. SLEEP. DOG.

I snuck in an hour or two more but it wasn’t great sleep.

It’s hot this morning, REALLY hot. I woke up in a pile of my own sweat this morning. It continuously blows my mind that I didn’t have a real fan until this month the entire time I have lived in Botswana. It really makes all the difference in being able to sleep at night! The fact that I suffered for that long is crazy.

Make the eggs for breakfast. Let Dijo outside to run around and grab a bucket. Go outside and water the plants. My American sweet corn has grown quite a bit! I’m such a proud Mama for my plants.

Go inside and take a bucket bath and get ready for work. Feed Dijo and walk him around the neighborhood because I’ve learned that he won’t poop in my yard; he will only go in other yards, which means I have to walk him if I don’t want him to be a hoodlum dog that runs the street.

Get home and pack my lunch and my bags for work. Leave Dijo in the living room with a fan and the windows open.

Ride my bike to work. Bontle is there with Kabo bringing in cases of water and juice and Simba for tomorrow’s movie night. Woo hoo!

I check in with Mma Monnahela and Lone to check that they will be helping with movie night tomorrow, and they both say they will be there. Woo hoo!

My plan is to start a monthly movie night at our village Cultural Centre. Everyone brings their own camp chair and we play a movie on a projector every month and hand out popcorn. In order to watch the movie and get a bag of popcorn they must watch a 10-15 minute STEPS documentary about HIV/AIDS and have a discussion. We teach about HIV and they get to watch a movie. A win win!

I’ve noticed that the Cultural Centre has big signs that they hang in front of the building to promote events. So, I decide to make one.

Okay, so I need flipchart paper and we don’t have any. I walk over to the supplies trailer and ask if they have any paper or markers. They claim to not have any.

Shoot, what will I do?

Walk back to the office and dig around and find an old, used couple of pieces of flipchart paper and decide to use the back of it to draw the sign. I dig through a few drawers and a green and red marker. Okay, cool! Guess it’ll be a red and green sign.

I color, outline, color some more.

It’s lunch time, so I ride my bike home to walk Dijo. Eat a leftover salad, walk Dijo around the block and tell him I live him.

Ride back to work.

Dripping in sweat.

I’m a sweat machine.

There’s never enough water.

Moving on.

I will survive.

It’s fine.

I continue working and call the man who runs the Cultural Centre to see if it’s okay if I put the sign up in front of the building. No answer.

Okay, fine.

Work some more. Chat with Bontle. It’s getting late, so it’s time to hang the sign before I go home. What will I hang it with? We don’t have any tape.

I start digging around the office to find a creative solution to hang a big sign on a fence. Just then, I look up and see the guy from MYSC looking through the window. He has parked his car in front of our office and was about to go home and saw me looking frazzled and puzzled in the office.

“Dumela, Mma. O teng?” he asks through the window.

“Dumela, Rra. I am trying to find something to hang this sign with but we don’t have anything!” I reply.

He reaches his hand through the window and looks at the curtains, where there are two little pieces of string holding the curtains back.

“I think you can use this string here and it should hold up the sign,” He says.

Brilliant!

I poke two holes through the corners of the paper and thread the string through.

Walk down the street carrying the big sign, across the parking lot, through the sand.

Why does it look like it’s going to rain? No way. No. It doesn’t rain here.

I stand by the fence and try to hang the sign, but it starts flopping around in the wind. A man nearby selling sweets at a table sees me struggling and comes running over to help. With no words, we simply work together and get the sign hung up. Perfect!

That’s what I love about Botswana. No matter what, people will always step up to help one another out.

I walk back to the office and grab my things. Hop on my bike and ride home.

Little Dijo is bouncing off the walls happy to see me. I put him on his leash and we go for a walkie around the neighborhood.

Go back inside and I space out on the couch and eat Simba chips for a bit. Dijo sits under my coffee table with his intense, serial killer stare at me eating the chips.

He has an obsession with licking the inside of the Simba chips bags. If I give him my empty bag, he likes to put his head inside of it and run around the house with the bag on his head, licking the flavor. What can I say, my dog likes MSG, just like his mother!

I give him my empty bag and he flops around with it on his head in the living room eating the crumbs.

Goaba texts and says she’s preparing for our trip to Vic Falls, Zimbabwe next week and asks if she should take some malaria medication. I have a bunch of malaria meds that I am given on a regular basis, but don’t need to take since I live below the malaria line in Botswana. I offer to give her some of my medication while we are in Zim and send her pictures of the bottle.

Annndddd it starts pouring rain, which means my paper sign I worked on all day will be ruined.

Sit down and create a social media post to promote movie night tomorrow on Facebook while Dijo runs around outside in the yard.

Watch a show. Give Dijo belly rubs.

Shower.

Bed.

Boroko 🌝

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