The (White) Girl Next Door

New House

After five months of living with host families, little to zero privacy or space of my own, I moved into a house generously provided for me by my community. We spent two days fixing up an old log and zinc structure. The men skillfully used machetes, a hand saw, hammers and nails to strategically place hand-sawed wood board and split bamboo stalks to the frame. The women provided food and drink and offered useful suggestions. I wanted shelves and let the women know, and they made sure it got done. The "studio" has a dirt floor and space for a bed and cooking area. It was fun to finally fully unpack my things and decorate. It was also wonderful waking up on the first morning on my own and make my own strong coffee in my french press and cook a bowl of oatmeal.

The house is located pretty much in the middle of town. As of now, I consider my privacy to be increased by 25%. That is, up from zero. So, 75% of my life is watched by peering eyes through the windows or slots in the siding. I've been so cheery about having my own place, though, I've enjoyed having the people around. My lovely sister Kimberly send me some toys for the children that they can play with when the come over.

My best attempt (terrible) at a panorama of the inside of the house

This is the building crew. They're really a happy bunch even if they don't smile for pictures. 

Dogs in the Night


I was sleeping the first night in my newly finished house. It felt great, privacy and comfort. The sounds of radios and roosters still waved outside but for the most part it was peaceful. The excitement kept me awake for a little while but eventually I fell asleep with Dorado snuggled at my side.

Early, early in the morning I woke suddenly in the dark to the sound of fighting dogs just outside my house. Then I shot up in bed to my loosely secured door flying violently open and the dogs fighting beside my bed. Instead of taking the fight outside, these dogs chose to take it inside. My house. As Dorado darted out of bed all I could do was clap and shout, "Vaya afuera!" or "Go outside!". They left and I sat in shock for a few more moments before re-securing my door, tightly. I eventually fell asleep and Dorado reappeared in the morning. For this reason I sleep with my machete close by.

Frijoles


It's bean season here in Duima. I LOVE this season. The fashionable pass-time currently is shelling beans. Since living on my own I've been gifted many cups of beans to cook. Everyone is talking about and eating beans. Guandu, habichuela (kidney bean), and other various types.