So it’s finally happened.  The voices in my head are real, they have British accents, and talk to each other nonstop.  Damn malaria pills.  

Homesickness hit me hard yesterday.  Perhaps it was because I was left to my own devices in a town with which I am unfamiliar or perhaps it was inevitable that I would long for the familiarity of home.  Whatever the reasons homesickness hit me like a ton of bricks.  I felt like curling in a ball under my blanket and not coming out for the remainder of the day. 

Though self-pity was certainly an option it was definitely not the most appealing choice therefore I decided to venture out of the house and commune with nature.  This did lift my spirits briefly until I returned home from a near miss encounter with a sketchy looking spider and numerous mosquito bites.  My buoyed spirits were thus wiped out by the fear of malaria.  Perhaps excessively imaginative but I like to think simply pragmatic.

I thought I would be immune to homesickness as I am the world traveler; the person who would never succumb to a malady as generic as homesickness… I suppose the realization that this is not a mere trip but the next two years of my life has finally set in.

The food here is sorely lacking.  Namibians are carnivorous by nature and believe that vegetarians eat chicken and fish; thus I am subsisting on pap and pasta.  What I wouldn’t do for a bowl of queso and a mojito…

One thing I never thought I would miss is talking on the phone.  Now all I want is to hear a friendly voice from my real life on the other end of the phone line.  Skype me people.  Skype me on my cell phone for my sanity.

I miss sarcasm.  I feel like shouting “SOYLENT GREEN IS PEOPLE!” But no one would understand and they would silently judge me. 

This is my life for the next two years.  

Every time a rooster crows a kitten dies.  It’s all part of their nefarious plan to take over the world.  I unraveled their innate malevolent nature, as I lay awake at 4:30 am listening to their malicious chuckles of glee.  It’s not enough to jostle me to wakefulness at an ungodly hour of the morning… EVERY MORNING…

No, they have a plan. Slowly but surely they are working westward through their insidious manifest destiny and soon kittens will cease to exist.  It’s true, I swear.  I haven’t seen one single kitten since I’ve stepped foot on this continent 14 days ago. 

Why kittens?  It’s all part of their sinister plan to rule the world- without kitten contact humans will inevitably shrivel and die from the lack of cuteness in their lives… and then… “cock a doodle do” will be the war cry of the victorious party.  

Tita ge Namibiab !nâ ra hâ. Tita ge ｷurusib di masenxa sîsen-ao. Nepa ta ge lgam kurina nî hâ. Don’t you wish you could learn a click language too? You only thought I was awesome before I came to Namibia… now it’s been confirmed by my fabuloso language skills. Who cares that it took me 9 years to learn French… I will conquer the language of the Damara and Namas in no time. After a mere two months of khoekhoegowab training and I will be clicking with the best of them. l, ll, !, ｷ.