First Hiccups in Africa

So today (err, last Saturday, I guess), I had what I believe were my first set of hiccups in Africa, or at least I’m pretty sure of it. How am I so sure of it, since 6 months is such a freakin’ long time to go without hiccups? Well, because it was so awkward and I don’t know/remember the Serere word for hiccups, or the French word for that matter. Anyway, here’s a slightly humorous story…or at least I hope so.

It had rained from 5:30-7:15ish AM, so there was a lot of water in the road as I walked barefoot with my 50 year old bro Ibou to town, holding my Chaco flipflops, an Entertainment Weekly magazine (thanks Jodi!), and my long skirt to my knees to that it didn’t get totally soaked in water. I had sneezed a few times and Ibou commented on it (though I had forgotten the word “to have a cold,” ie “kaa gourfeel” or “you have a cold”), we chatted briefly, and then stayed mostly silent as we weaved our way through the water-filled dirt road, avoiding puddles as best we could. The whole time I was thinking about how once I got to town, a delicious bean sandwich and fake coffee would be waiting for me (as well as a fellow PCV before we went to the last day of summer school). All of the sudden, hiccup! It was quiet and then again! Hiccup! Ibou kind of looked back, but I didn’t say anything as I tried to recall the word for hiccup, wondering if he would soon comment on it. He didn’t, leaving me hoping the hiccups would stop, but knowing it would be rude to use water to stop them since Ibou can’t drink water as it was still Ramadan. As I was thinking about how awkward my hiccupping was, but also about the cool-ishness in the air (post rain, I was almost “chilled,” so it was probably 85 or 90 degrees, let’s be honest…), I started thinking about how I’ll miss the changing seasons, especially winter in DC. Then my head automatically went to Peppermint Mochas. Yes, Peppermint Mochas. I LOVE them! They are by far my favorite seasonal drink (when properly done, of course), and I suddenly realized that I won’t be able to get one this year. It made me sad and then I thought about my proposed Euro vacay this winter and how London and Paris both have (the dreaded) Starbucks, which could (God forbid!) fill my Peppermint Mocha need this Christmas (because traditional Parisian cafés do not offer such treats). At once, I was filled with a mixture of excitement and dread, caving in to my desire for a yummy treat as to bring myself to go to Starbucks, which successfully got my mind off my hiccups. How silly is that? Anyway, when I met up with Jaime for our bean sandwich breakfast, I shared my silliness and she just thought that the connection between hiccups and Peppermint Mochas was too funny and that I definitely needed to turn it into a blog post.

So I did. The End.