The No Day Break

The next day, we got up early to try and work on the car. Jerome was desperate that we leave for Kimotong that day at eleven (so wasn’t happening) and then at one (also not happening) but the brakes failed on us and the radiator needed to be welded or something and this other thing had gone wrong and we needed to fix our patched tire so George and Jerome went off to get the car fixed while Neesha and I stayed and caught up on email and laundry and reading and things. When five rolled around and they weren’t back from the market, I decided I was getting tired of waiting. Also, Lucy had informed me that since we weren’t expected for dinner, she hadn’t planned on cooking, and that the only thing in the kitchen was beans. I convinced her that this was a bad plan, since there were several of us who needed a real meal (which we hadn’t had since we left Nimule) so she and I walked down to town to buy rice and soap. (the soap obviously wasn’t for dinner, but for laundry) I was bored and wanted to double check that George and Jerome were ok, so I bet her she couldn’t find them. And she did. I owe her one pound. They were at the Lobalua Hills bar, of course. The car was being inspected by about five huge guys, all of whom looked faintly Arab and one of whom was wearing a shirt that said “Sometimes I get cranky and like to bitch” which both George and I found hilarious. We hung out at the bar for four or five hours, drinking beers (none of which we paid for, because people kept buying us free drinks-I’m a big fan of that) and singing soulfully to “Everything I do, I do it for you” (George has trouble with the high notes) I wandered off to go to the bathroom by myself and quasi almost got kidnapped by a guy named Kitmudo who tried to lead me off to the courthouse, but I escaped and peed behind the public latrine (which was closed) and when I got back, George was looking sheepish and Jerome was in a temper because I shouldn’t have been allowed off on my own, and George was an idiot, and I could have gotten hurt and I needed to be more careful and both George and I were stupid, etc etc. It was the first time I ever saw him get protective (where was this protective instinct in Kimotong may I ask?). Then he went to finish up some things on the car and George and I got wrangled into sitting with a table of guys outside the bar who told me I needed to bring them an American wife as pretty as myself (such a line-I told them no self respecting American girl would consent to being a second wife). Everything was going well until we were ready to leave, whereupon all the guys who had been drunkenly lurking in the background surged forward to shake my hand-and wouldn’t let go. George, damn him, ran off into the car, and so did Desire and Jerome so I was just trying to pull my hand away and they were closing in around me going “let us buy you a drink, are you married?’ and Jerome drove up and I yanked open the first door I saw (the back door) and pretty much sat on George’s lap (because, of course, the spare tire was wedged in the back seat and when I got in, George was wedged on it. He was telling me to get off and I was saying, in essence, get me the hell away from these guys and we can stop and I’ll move. We drove about…..100 ft away and I switched to the front seat. Then we had to stop so George could pee (having been there longer, he was on 9 beers, while I was on 5-his bladder cap we have decided is about four beers, so we let him pee on the side of the road and laughed at him). Then we got back to the compound where Jimmy and Omar had showed up and were eating the rice and beans, and then we pretty much took showers and went to bed. And the next day, we left for Kimotong.