Well things are good. I don't have lots of time to blog at the moment, but I just wanted to make it known that Inet has been quite unreliable these past few days, which means that I can't transfer photos from my laptop to my blog or to facebook.   (Update:  I'm  going to try and download some pics. Hopefully it'll work!)
Otherwise all is good. School starts tomorrow and I'm really excited to meet the kids. I'll have 7,8,9 and 10. I've been reading through the previous teachers' comments about the 7th and 8th graders--the majority don't like French. :) Hopefully I'll be able to change that.
I walked around my neighborhood the other day.  Our school is definitely in the slum--shantytowns everywhere, no sidewalks, just dirt (sidewalks are indeed for rich countries). I enjoy how people stare at me, as I'm the only white person around. But as soon as I flash a smile and bow my head quickly and raise both my hands, palms out (typical greeting gesture), they give me a huge smile. And when I go into cafes, all eyes are on me. I enjoy it. Walking around is always an adventure. Children follow you around and say "You!". Sometimes they can speak pretty good English, and if they do they smile the entire time they talk. Then there are the kids who just say "Money" in Amharic (the language) as they follow you.

Today I had a great conversation with an 8 year-old boy. He followed me around while I took pictures of my neighborhood.  He spoke  some English--constant smile.   "What does your mother do?"  "How many brothers and sisters do you have?"  I didn't get a chance to take a picture of him as there were police around. (Police don't like you taking pictures.)  While I was walking around, every boy under 12 ran up to me to shake my hand. They had huge smiles on their faces.  It was heart warming.
I'm quickly learning the customs around here. You can't simply buy 4 bananas at the market, you have to say 1 kilo. Try getting half a kilo and they look at you funny and say that's not enough for you. Or if you want a quarter kilo (half a pound) of cheese, and you try to say 1/2 of 1/2 (they understand one kilo and half kilo in English) to get a 1/4, they do the addition and come up with 1 kilo, smile, and give you 2.2 pounds of cheese. Good thing I love cheese. 
Another custom: politeness isn't expected. I was told that when you go to the bread store all you have to do is say four in Amharic ("arat") without please or thank you. So I walked into the store, nodded and said "Arat!", "Four!". It worked, she gave me the bread and I paid 40 cents for 4 pieces of bread. But I just can't shake the feeling of being the angry white man when I do that. Please and Thank you from now on.
Alright, just heard that water is back on--time to shower.
 Blessings

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