Self-esteem and generators

In hindsight, it was probably a poor decision to explain the concept of “love handles” to Lucy.
She was wildly entertained by the definition, and insisted that I draw her examples, but since then every time we walk side by side she grabs my waist and squeezes it and says “Surely Emma you give me these”. Trust me, I would love to. She doesn’t have them (I doubt anyone in Africa does) but she wants them. I tried explaining that in America, love handles are a sign that you are (to quote George) “un-toned, fat and lazy” but she is too delighted to take stock in that.
To further ruin my self esteem, this has come around the same time that Abigail started telling me I am growing fat “like a chicken”. She pokes at my belly like I’m the Pillsbury Doughboy (ironic considering George is part-Pillsbury) and tells me I am fat and white. She smiles when she says it.
I don’t take offense. They both mean what they say, but not in a bad-natured way, so I find I don’t mind. I did not intend to come to Africa and put on any type of weight, and frankly I think I’m about the same weight as I was when I came here, but the diet of pure starch that I am fed probably isn’t helping matters. Periodic goat only does so much to balance one’s diet. Either way, we spend a great deal of time laughing about this and secretly I plot to jog to Nairobi and back every morning-although considering the clothing I have at my disposal for exercise (tight leggings, a PJ shirt, and Keens hiking sandals) I imagine that I will probably face further ridicule on my morning jogs. (Also-lets be honest, there is the fact that jogging and I have never been best friends)
I think in my head I thought that I would come back from Africa thin and tan, but Sudan seems hell bent on crushing that thought to dust. Let's face it. I'm not tanning, and I'm not losing weight. I am as white and plushy as I was before I got here. Which is more than fine. I'm learning so much-both in life and about myself. My expansion of knowledge more than makes up for a parallel expansion in my waist line. It just doesn't seem fair.

Beyond that, Ed is driving me crazy. I don't know if we have analogous work temperaments. He has had all these close meetings with Neesha and George respectively, but not with me. And anytime I get upset when he tries to give a piece of my work to someone else, he acts as if I am not a team player. It isn't that. Its that I came on this internship to learn specific things, and I'm not learning them. Neesha and George are. I don't begrudge them this; they are doing amazing work. I just feel like Ed isn't giving me a chance and it is irritating.
Don't get me wrong, I'm working on spreadsheets and compiling information but I wish there was more teamwork, rather than so much individual, piecemeal collaboration. I dont mean to complain about him. He is fantastic and has taught me so much. It's just that when you get frustrated, you dont want to concentrate on how great someone is. You want to dwell on the couple of things they do that drive you crazy. Its just difficult.
But then again, who expects an internship in Sudan to be easy?

Work here is a bit difficult without a generator. It means I'm having more time to research but I don't want to slack off on the proposal work. Everywhere we go we see evidence of people's reliance on generators-vaccines, computer databases, light in the evening-everyone is utterly reliant on it. Finding a cold soda in the market means finding the one or two stalls with refrigerators. I wish solar power was actually the panacea everyone is claiming it to be. It would help so much.

And finally, as a note to myself: I need to wash my backpack. It reeks of goat. I've been smelling goat in my room for the past week and now I know where it stems from. Let me tell you, coming fresh from a shower and instantly smelling goat.....its a bit discouraging.