We've hit a nice stride, my field assistant, our district family planning trainer and myself. Having visited eight villages three times with three workers each, and had more-or-less the same discussions about how to fill out the questionnaires, we are on the same page. Kama kawaida. Or, as usual. It's basically reminiscent of the 8th day of a boundary waters canoeing trip. My chaco tan agrees.
We decide at the same time that a certain beans-and-rice cafe is clearly not up to sanitary par, and silently coordinate our sassy disapproving departure. There's not much communication, either, when we all get out of the car and move a giant acacia tree off the meager rocky path we're pretending is a road. When its time to distribute payments and get signatures of receipt, we simply say: mvua uniesha. Or, make it rain.
I also seem to have toughened up a bit to fit into the stride. I sleep extremely lightly but can fall asleep anywhere. I woke up yesterday when the lizard in my room ate a spider. I'm fascinated by how refreshed and clean I can feel with only with a bar of soap and 2 liters of cold water. I haven't slept in the same bed for more than a week in a row since February. I'll take this transient pace over the last guest house, where the way to lock the door was by rotating a bent nail in the door frame (it was the nicest place in town at $4/night). I have more of a "usual spot" bar than I've ever had in my life, every waiter knows what football teams I support and greets me by (my Swahili) name.
My research permit ends in a couple of weeks and I transition into tourist. I'm going to miss this life.