My "Situation"

This past weekend I’ve been fighting off a foreign, exotic disease that most people have never even heard of -- “the cold.”

All the going back and forth between the dusty, smoldering outdoors and my A/C-ed office has caused me to come down with a sore throat and stuffy nose. Someone call the emergency evacuation troops!

Who needs Walgreens or Rite-Aid!

Notice the small plastic bag in hand, only a few pills are sold at a time as necessary.

While I’m certainly thankful that I haven’t caught any real tropical disease -- come on! A measly cold is slowing me down in Africa? That’s pretty lame.

Today, with my slight malady, I stayed indoors and hung out at Claudia's/my boss's house. I’ve recently moved in to house-sit for her family while they take leave on Thursday for 5 weeks of vacation. They’ve opened their doors, and all their amenities, to me: pool, trampoline, piano keyboard, Wii, unlimited access to their overstocked book shelves filled with African tales and French grammar texts. All for what I thought was going to be rent-free ride.

Sweet pool and backyard hut, which helps protect you when the

mangoes fall from their large mango tree:

A few days ago, I accidentally let it slip that I had taken 14 years of piano lessons in my day. Claudia seemed excited, explaining that she, too, had taken 8 years of lessons and wanted her boys to learn and couldn’t wait to hear me play.

This afternoon, she touches back on our conversation and asks, “Wouldn’t it be great if you could teach Andrew how to play? Why don’t we get started today while you stay in.”

Never having taught a lesson before, and only really being able to remember one song all the way through after my years of Suzuki lessons (albeit a 14 minute long Beethoven Sonata), I had to say yes. This family was taking me into their home, the least I could do was teach the boy a few scales and arpeggios!

Claudia's son Andrew: my first victim -- err, student.

He's immersed in his reading about ninja chimpanzees and tree-climbing goats.

We started with the C-scale and “Mary had a Little Lamb." While being the most repetitive hour I’ve spent in a few years, it was painless.

Later this evening, just after the World Cup trophy had been handed to the most beautiful keeper in the tournament (I love you and your tears of joy, Casillas!), Christine -- one of Claudia’s friends and the Chief of Child Security at UNICEF -- took me to the side and said: “I heard about your ‘situation.’”

Christine jumping for joy after Espagne's goal:

Tina Wolfe, a Johns Hopkins colleague and native Spaniard, just as excited:

Claudia and her other son, Abraham, were not as excited about Espagne's victory. They were pro-"Pays-Bas"/Netherlands.

I looked at her with my thick Lebanese eyebrows raised, and asked what she meant. Maybe she had heard about my uncommon sickness, and wanted to offer the newest and most effective treatment: a few Tylenol and some noodle soup.

“Well, Claudia told me that you’ve been moving around a bit, trying to stretch your dollars. I wanted to let you know that once her family gets back from vacation, you’re welcome to move in here with us.”

I looked around at her mansion of a home where we’d been watching the game on her huge flat-screen TV. It was decked with its own pool, basketball court, a huge surround sound system that was always blasting, and her two kids running around on a sugar high after a few apple sodas.

I could rock this. It was a much better offer than what I thought she would’ve probably given me for my sinus situation: I’d guessed it would’ve been CHICKEN noodle soup.

“There’s a catch...I was hoping you could maybe teach my kids how to play piano.”

On the couch with Kessia, Christine's daughter looking like an angel;

Amanda, who's in Bamako doing research on urban gardens;

Lisa, who works with USAID; and Mike, Peace Corps coordinator here in Mali

What Kessia did to my hair:

Not as angelic as she looks after all! Still a cutie:

Despite having a population of nearly 2 million, word travels fast here in Bamako.

Still, not a bad trade-off for such an impressive roof over my head. Definitely won’t catch any serious tropical diseases here, chez-Christine.