This morning, after breakfast, I determined to go down to the university and find out about my housing. Mr. Sawadogo, the administrator, had shown me a number of houses. The last one was the one without a kitchen, and the landlord had promised to build a kitchen in two weeks to accommodate me. That was two weeks ago. So I went to see Mr. Sawadogo bright and early. When I showed up, he said he had spoken with the landlady of my current house, Mme Tahirou, and they had agreed that I could stay until June. So much for all that angst about moving. I mentioned that if that was so, then there were some repairs to be made to the house. I don’t think he was too enthusiastic about that part of the deal. Mme Tahirou is notoriously unwilling to spend money, he said, and he didn’t think she would pay the repair bills. In the US, if your landlord refuses to make repairs, you make them yourself and take the cost off the rent, but I don’t know if it works that way here. But anyway, I won’t have to move before Wednesday, and that is good news.
In other good news, I managed (at last) to make the projector the embassy loaned me work with my computer. It took an expensive USB-HDMI image processor in order to make it work, but it does now work. Making this happen required riding around town with the projector lashed onto the back of my bicycle, a really scary project. Breaking the projector would not be a good thing – I don’t imagine the government would make me buy them a new one, but it would certainly not help my reputation for efficiency and ability to take care of myself around the embassy. I was also concerned about getting it stolen hauling it around marketplaces and so on. But I got it back in one piece, and with the little device needed to make it work properly. Hurrah!
When I got home, I got to let my neighbors know that moving day has been postponed until June. This is one of the neighbor kids, Jean-Luc, looking somewhat nonplussed:
I told him to work hard in school because he will command a starship some day.
As you can see, he’s what we called in mountainy Virginia when I was a kid a “shirt-tail young-un”. that is, no pants so there’s less to wash after the inevitable accidents. A short while after this photo was taken, I had a practical demonstration of the concept as I got to mop a damp spot on my floor.
But that was the only unfortunate aspect to an otherwise fine day.