Dear…

Welcome to another wonderful installment of "Dear..." where I write notes to all of the people, places and things I meet along the way.

Dear Pilipili cat: I understand that you’re enthusiastic about my new workout regimen. But could you refrain from attacking my foot every time I do ballet? And maybe not decide to lie on my stomach when I’m doing P90X Ab Ripper? But feel free to join in during Tae Bo, you’ll be one buff kitty in no time!

Dear rainy season: I’m still glad you’re here, promise. But doesn’t your presence mean that I should always have water? I would like an essay (10,000 words or more) on why that one time I went without water at my spigot for almost 5 whole days. As well as a guarantee that it will never happen again. Mk?

Dear Stieg Larsson: You were taken from this world too soon. Especially because you’ve done it again. The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest. Remarkable. Intriguing. A page turner. Unlike no other. Captivating. Perfect. Shall I go on?

Dear GRE (yes, you, the Graduate Record Examination): Darn you and your 5 year expiration date. I took you in the summer of 2007. Which means you expire in the summer of 2012. This presents a problem considering I was planning to apply for grad school AFTER I got back from Peace Corps. You’ve given me no choice but to apply next year for admission for Fall 2012. That being said, can you please put a good word in for me at the University of Washingon, Tulane, and Columbia? That might make it up to me. Just maybe.

Dear Dad: I’m so utterly sad that I missed being there for your birthday. Like cried a little, sad. I hope it was wonderful. And I promise to make it up to you when you visit in December. LOVE YOU!

Dear two secondary students who were standing in the rain outside the library: I’m so glad that you stared at me. Even more glad when you said hello and asked if you could come inside. And most glad when you went straight for the science textbooks and spent the next 45 minutes flipping through them. That being said, I’m so sorry that I was unable to say yes to your kind request to tutor you in Organic Chemistry. I haven’t taken chemistry since high school, and if I remember correctly I wasn’t that good at it to begin with. But come back soon!

Dear child who I kept hearing say “Amy” as I began walking to work: I heard you. I heard you repeatedly. But WHERE WERE YOU? I looked and looked but could not actually figure out where you were hiding. I’m pretty sure you found this amusing though considering the length and volume of your laughter as I gave up and continued on my way.

Dear patients at Bisate Health Center: It’s official, in a month you should have running water in all of your hospitalization rooms and consultation rooms. Thanks Water Charities! Yaaaaay!

Dear Concubine: You had me at “chorizo”.

Dear Hamimu, my faithful market egg man: I’m so sorry I haven’t visited in awhile. You can blame my parents for sending cat food from America. Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon. Because at the rate she’s scarfing down this Purina Cat Chow, I’ll need to go back to buying eggs within the month.

Dear faithful package senders among my readers: I’m out of chocolate. I repeat, my chocolate stash is empty! Please send reinforcements immediately. Particularly in the form of dark chocolate, heath bars and M&Ms. I’ll send you an honest to goodness letter in thanks, Rwandan postage stamps included. Merci!

Dear boy sitting on the curb, holding out a hand and saying “give me one thousand”: I asked you “kuberiki” which means “why” in Kinyarwanda. Answering “I’m fine, thank you, teacher” in English is not exactly what I was expecting. Nor did it make me want to give you any money. It did however make me laugh all the way to work.

Dear carrot lady: You’re back! You’re back! You’re back!!!!! But, um, where’s this baby I heard so much about for months?...

Dear gecko living in my bathroom: I like having you around. Especially whenever I catch you eating spiders and other bugs. Keep it up, little guy! And I promise I’ll keep Pili out of the bathroom so as to keep you alive; we all know her love of turning lizards into toys/meals.

Dear Glee: You outdid yourself with Season 2, episode 1. Empire state of mind, telephone, AND billionaire. Nice job. Suriously.

Dear imineke: You are the smallest, yummiest, sweetest bananas I’ve ever encountered on this planet. I don’t think twice about scarfing down 6-10 of you in a day. Adding you to my peanut butter sandwiches was the best idea ever. That was until I added you to flour, sugar, water, cinnamon and vanilla and then fried you in oil. Talk about fritter perfection.

Dear itty bitty baby next to me on the bus: You were utterly adorable. So adorable that I didn’t even mind that you spent the entire ride alternating between tugging my pinky finger and pulling my earphone out of my ear.

Dear Rwandans: I’m pretty sure I finally figured out the difference between “to think” (gutekereza) and “to wait” (gutegereza) in Kinyarwanda. So from now on I promise that when you ask why I’m standing at a certain place I will now correctly say “I’m waiting” for my friend instead of “I’m thinking” for my friend.

Dear feet: You’re clean. You’re actually clean. I’m not lying! I’m not just trying to make you feel better. Enjoy it! Dry season is just around the corner…

Dear anonymous staff at an anonymous health center: The mosquito nets were already neatly and perfectly contained in their plastic bags. So, what exactly was the reason for taking them out of the bags, and taking 10 minutes to stuff them into brown paper bags before taking them away??

Dear pool shark at Volcana: You have cost me a lot of pride and a lot of money. But thanks for letting me win that one time, I felt so special.

Dear box of wine thoughtfully gifted to me by the RPCV that I hosted one night: You + Eli + me + season 6 of Weeds + homemade chapatti and curry = a wonderful evening was had by all.

Dear self: It’s perfectly acceptable to feel accomplished when you read two books in two days and cook yourself six wonderful, yummy culinary successes. Keep up the good work!

Dear neighborhood kiddies: I LOVE that you now come to my gate everyday to ask if you can visit the library to study and read. It seriously brings the happiest tears to my eyes. But I won’t be mad if you want to visit and pick avocadoes or help me weed my yard either. And just wait, I fully plan on tricking you into neighborhood dance classes very, very soon.