The funniest things are on TV over here. Right now, Mr. Holland's Opus is on in the other room, and I am being serenaded with "Someone to Watch Over Me." Love it. Encountering things from home is such a thrill.

Fridays are holy days here, but Friday nights are still Friday nights for my American counterparts. Of course we couldn't just stay in. There was a group of seven headed to a bar, and multiples of four are best for catching cabs. This was the detail that finally convinced me not to spend the evening at home. And so Friday night found me at a bar at the end of Kairaba avenue, sipping tap water (with ice!) and stealing fries from my friends. Several beers later, the group decided to head to the beach. And so Friday night found me in the Atlantic in my underwear with my drunk friends. (We were the only people on the beach, and none of us had worn swimsuits to the bar.) All in all, a good night. Catching a cab back was problematic, but we managed it eventually.

Today, we continued to play tourist and headed to Cape Point for some sun on the beach. I bought a batik from a very reasonable man and promised to recommend his shop to all of my friends. I think I got a little sunburned from sitting and reading on a towel, but just enough to give me a tan by the morning. I am devouring books here. Things move slowly, but my mind doesn't like idling. I am currently reading some trashy vampire novel that half the St Mary's group has read and loved. Twilight. It's a chick flick in written form. I feel so manipulated, but I can't stop reading it. I feel like I should read something important after I finish it to balance myself out.

I used my Mandinka today on a bush taxi to greet an elderly woman who sat next to me. It was pretty exciting. She seemed impressed. I also used it to ask a girl on the street in Bakau where I could buy an egg sandwich. Beaches make me hungry.

"Where can I buy an egg sandwich?"
"Where is... what?"
"Where can I buy... mbuuroo ning sisekiloo?"
"Ahhh! Mbuuroo! Haa!"

Haa means yes. Anyway. She pointed us toward a shop, and lunch was a smashing success. Even in the tourist areas, if you can find a shop, you can find a sandwich for 10 dalasi. That's about 50 cents in American currency. Can you believe they give us 750 dalasi a week for food?