The water is finished. The power is finished… In all of Gulu. This means that the central water pumping system is out of service, and the tap I usually get my water from (or any tap for that matter) is dry. The line to get water out of the borehole wraps around the entire mosque it is in front of, and I don’t want to spend the next two hours being stared at. As it is, I have a pounding headache I cannot get rid of, and I’m stressed by every little (catastrophic) thing that each short day is filled with. For example, the day before last, I was unexpectedly involved in a funeral of a ten year old girl who died without known cause, after being sick for only a week (see previous post). The following day, I got told I was going to hell by my coworkers since I came out of the closet as a Jew. The same day, I watched a goat being slaughtered, and stood in the same compound three children were murdered in the night before. (The goat gets to go to heaven by the way). Today, I shifted through the dust storm to visit my girls at school, only to take one to the hospital to find out that she has E-Coli. Beyond that, the heat is killing me, and if I could find a semi “somehow” cold drink in town, I would automatically die and go to heaven. That’s it, I’m going to buy bottled water to “bathe” in (at least I have the option), and will throw the dirty aftermath into the “toilet” so that I don’t have to put on a glove and fish the toilet paper out like I did last night. Peace Corps is awesome!