I know it’s not the most original
name for a blog post, but I was on the spot.
Today we assembled water
filtration systems, that is we plugged cords with bulbous tubes into
plastic buckets. 198 buckets to be exact, we started with 200
buckets, but the drill went berserk, mutilating the hole we were
drilling to instal the filter. Another was the fault of one person
drilling a hole, then placing the bucket back in the same stack, the
result being, he grabbed it again and drilled a hole in the other
side. Needless to say, that one was slightly defective.
As I’m writing this in my
notepad(which later will be transferred into Microsoft OpenOffice and
copy/pasted to the blog) my other family members are shirt shopping
in the Soroti market. We have just come from the fresh produce
section of the market, hence I am in the vehicle allowing my nose to
recover. Allow me to explain, the open air market is full to the brim
with drying out fish. I love fish(that is completely sarcastic, there
is precious little I hate more than fish.) the very smell of these
slime ridden aquatic stink bombs is poison to my lungs. The smell
begins to shut my brain down, and I lose all feeling whatsoever.
However, I did learn today that it is possible to hold your breath
for 12 minutes, or more correctly, survive off air filtered by the
back of your hand or forearm for said span of time. The floor of the
market doubles as a garbage can, as do the gutters of the streets the
air itself down here is filthy, dusty, and smelly, the situation is
helpless.. but not hopeless. Where there is God, there is hope. Where
there is hope, there is love. Where there is love, there is God. The
cycle never ends, is unchanging, is never broken or forgotten. Until
next time, Jared Allen signing off.