Cake!

After a late night of soccer I hit the snooze button about twenty times until I realized that I hadn't heard from Jeran yet and as a psuedo-hostess I should probably locate my "guest." It poured last night so the streets were more like mud than pavement. Every four or five steps I'd slip--think ice skating but with mud. I headed into town on the dalla dalla and sat next to the cutest kids that wanted nothing to do with me. Aparently loss of coordination isn't cool here. Wear it mzungu.

Jeran had already left his hotel and according to the attendant had headed for the post office. After meeting up we went over to Pira's--the MINI grocery store where all the mzungu get ripped off, especially on Cadbury or anything with a non-Arabic label. Highlight was picking up the requirements for Funfetti cake (label half in English; half in Arabic), which is the activity for the day. Very exciting..."Are these eggs raw?" "Yes." "Have they been cooked?" "Yes."