The broken record

(You can re-read this as often as we have heard it).

For weeks, the news (or lack of) from the Immigration office has been along the lines of "your paperwork is not yet processed", "we are missing this", "black ink not blue", "this needs to be stamped" (notarizing everything is a very big business here) and so on. I don't even think this is particularly because we are in Africa, rather more just standard government bureaucracy found anywhere in the world. I guess since my blog is public, I should probably not talk much more about our status, except to say that if you are a Police (music group) fan, you can figure it out by the name of one of their songs. This past week in particular has been an intense roller coaster of going to the police, central immigration office, universal immigration office, and getting more passport photos. Stop the ride, I want to get off!

But in the words of Al Michaels from the 1980 US vs USSR hockey game, "DO YOU BELIEVE IN MIRACLES?" (the alternative and more optimistic title for this blog). We did have something truly incredible happen to us this week. One of the complications we have faced in the whole immigration debacle is that without residency and work permits, we cannot receive our shipping without paying a huge import duty (more than the contents' actual worth). Up until Thursday, we had no idea where it even was after leaving New York in October. But I contacted the shipping company and asked if we could go ahead with the papers we did have. We made a copy of every receipt and anything that looked halfway official. Magdeline took us to the customs office and we were not terribly optimistic because we did not have ANY of the right paperwork. I anticipated needing to explain a lot. After winding through a labyrinth of generic gray cubicles piled with extraordinarily massive stacks of papers, we found the woman with whom we needed to talk. She looked completely disinterested with her job and more so when we arrived; she did not look up when we stood at her desk and continued to stamp away. Well, when she finally looked through our papers, she did not ask questions and gave us the go-ahead. The woman from the shipping company was shocked because she also did not expect us to clear. So when our boxes actually do arrive, it will be free and clear and according to Magdeline, this is nothing short of a miracle. Now we are praying that the inspection goes well. I did not pack anything on the restricted list (like a cd player) but we are told that everything is at the discretion of the officer on duty (maybe I did pack too much Splenda). We are definitely getting quite an education and have learned a tremendous amount about the process of living overseas.

This whole situation has consumed a lot of our time this week, and that has made us a bit weary. But I have been baking (and subsequently eating) and that is relaxing. We had Shelley and Pete over for dinner with their kids Caleb and Malea earlier in the week. Shelley is the other American teacher at school (from Seattle but has lived in LA) and she is someone with whom Russ and I have both talked to quite openly about life the States. She shares my love for In-n-out,fish tacos, real salsa, and has a great sense of humor. Pete is a pilot here for medical rescue flights. Russ and I put together a taco dinner, using Indian roti for shells. The guacamole was great and I found some halfway decent tortilla chips. Also had a bean,corn, and cilantro salad, a big pitcher of sangria, and pineapple. The kids reminisced about Taco Bell and it was an enjoyable evening

Last night after Russ spent another four hours at immigration, we went out to the Mountain Valley Inn in Gabane with Zane. A collection of thatched huts situated fifteen kilometers from Gaborone, this bar also served food. For P20 (about $3.50), we were given a cardboard box with marinated beef which we then proceeded to grill ourselves. Then the same box served as a plate as we were given a hearty serving of pap (mielie meal) to eat with the meat (with our fingers of course). It was absolutely delicious. The downside to eating pap is that it sinks like a rock in your stomach. Had a few beers and ciders under the clear sky and listened to some kwaza kwaza music. Russ even came out on the dance floor for quite a while (which for those who know, may be miracle number two of the week). We had a great time.

Now we are at school (as I am for any blog). There is a farmer's market going on and I am hoping to pick up some eggs and lettuce. Christmas music is blaring and I think there might be some crafts as well. Russ tried his hand as a cricket batter in the annual Dads vs Lads cricket game, and I am starting to understand the rules of this seemingly BORING game. Taraz and his oldest son played exceptionally well. Thankfully it was only a 20-over match, which meant it only went on for two hours compared to the all-day matches or even the one or five day test matches. I am pretty convinced I will not love this game, but I can appreciate it a tiny bit more.