In which sarah meets Pako, is healed by the holy spirit, and attempts to make Jambalaya

Pako is pretty much the most awesome five-year-old ever. He is smart enough to how but too young to know better and his parents cannot decide whether to hug him forever or do him in for the good of society.
Exhibit 1: Pako likes climbing, (in this picture he is five feet off the ground) His specialties include neighbors' fences and cabinets with candy. Exhibit 2: Pako refuses to eat in general but every morning I was there he put on his sunglasses and army helemet and one would have to go catch him in order to spoon-feed him "movite" (The only thing he'd eat, which looked and smelled like crushed-up fruitloops)

Exhibit 3: Pako is addicted to candy and is rarely seen in the evenings without a lollypop. He also loved my computer. Pako supposedly only speaks setswana (which he loves to give me orders in) but at the end of the week when I clearly did not understand what he wanted he paused for a moment, then looked at me and said in english clearly, "I want to play with the computer" His mother and I were shocked, I think that kid pretends to not understand me when it suits him

The church of spiritual healing: The picture below is my friend and I after church. Our respective host mothers dressed us. I was wearing cap sleeves and a knee-length skirt (assuming if it was good enough for the mormons I would be okay in africa) but my mother stopped me at the door and said I needed to cover all of my hair and wear a shawl.....in a building with 100 people and no AC. The service lasted for 3 hrs (all in Setswana) because every single person knelt at the altar, was anointed with holy water and was healed by the pastor. This process took 1.5 hours and for the entire time we all stood, sang, and clapped rapidly. I could not feel my hands by the end of the service! The holy water was stored in a 2L coca cola bottle, which alarmed me as I am pretty sure cocacola is about 20 shares away from owning the third world. Instead of vestments (which I suspect were too expensive) the pastor and his helpers wore white lab coats......awesome trend which everyone should adopt. finally, the women, men, unmarried women, the boys, and the girls all had their own seating section with separate doors. It was a trip, at one point all of the lekgoas (white people) had to stand up and the congregation prayed for us (I got the sense it was positive...not "god please smite these invaders") Ultimately a good experience but not one I think I could repeat.....Jambalaya: One night I decided to cook for my host family and in order to share a little bit of southern culture I decided to make Jambalaya-oops. Ingredients used in LA are not necessarily available in Mochudi so I ended up sans garlic, celery and bellpepper (which I am pretty sure includes at least 2 of the trinity of cajun cooking). Furthermore, the sausage I bought did not actually brown, it rather dissolved into a pink paste which the mother insisted was normal and meant it was cooked (what did they DO to it!?) Finally, the rice has a different texture in Botswana and does not absord water quite the same way. In addition, the stove was gas (which I have never used) without a pilot light and it would randomly go out with only the eventual smell of gas to give it away five minutes later. Altho tears were shed, it turned out reasonably edible, altho not very jambalayaish; but everything tastes okay with enough tabasco, I think (which I DID find, thankyou god). I am pretty sure that my host mother put the fear of God into the family; if she is anything like my mother she said something along the lines of "You will eat anything she puts in front of you and you will like it! I don't care if it is a plate of boiled dirt!" After dinner the mother put on a bright smile and said "see! everybody finished, they liked it!" FML. I did also make an apple pie, however, and that went over very well. (so did pancakes a few days later) in any case, this is what the kitchen looked like about 20 minutes into cooking.

The mother walked in to the kitchen at about this point and I think she was concerned......

Ultimately, Mochudi was pretty spiffy and I will probably go back next weekend so I can see the cattle post which every family purportedly has..... until then, Peace out yo!