A lot of leg in Africa...

...is not a lot of leg. Visible knees equals too much leg.

In the corner of our garden is a pump. In order for a shower to saturate my mass of long, curly hair, the pump must be plugged in. Otherwise, the shower is an unpleasant trickle. My very first day, Tom instructed me to shout "the pump" so that either Ingas or Damacine would plug in the pump for me, creating that magical water pressure. The challenge comes with Grace shouting. I don't specialize in being heard. So, after a futile shout (okay it wasn't a shout. More of a quiet plee...I don't like shouting instructions to people), I tried to sneak out in our walled garden to plug in the pump myself. Well, I wasn't as stealthy as I hoped. Damacine turned the corner and froze - eyes locked on my long white legs, sticking out of the little blue pj shorts. Damacine couldn't look at me normally for days. Very awkward. Now we've developed a system, so that I don't continue to scandalize Damacine and Ingas.

It's funny. Rwandan woman wear tight, strappy, off the shoulder garments. Their pants are often painted on...but said painted paints always cover the knees. Therefore, deemed modest. I totally support feminine modesty - it enhances mystery and, ultimately, enchantment. It's just funny to me that knees are deemed immodest. I always thought knees weren't exactly attractive. Knobby comes to mind.

Prior to my flight, Matt told me "most women choose not to wear shorts or skirts that don't cover their knees due to the extra attention that it draws." Groan. Being tall and thin means that any shorts actually covering my knees would have a waist two or three Graces could fit into. No formless blob cloths for Grace. Particularly in fashion conscience Africa. You laugh. I'm serious. Africa is rampant with great dressers. In fact, staff actually respect their ex-pat manager when that person dresses well,though not obstentatiously. I did go buy a pair of stylish, long, thin shorts that end just above my knees. All my skirts cover my knees and then some. Still, men and woman stare at my lower legs as I walk down the street. They're just so long. And white...comparatively.

To minimize the "comparatively", I love to spend my Saturdays at the pool in Kigali baraqueing, swimming, reading and chatting with Melissa. We had a great conversation about the Christian's call to steadfast disposition and nail polish.

The Novotel is one of the two swanky hotels in Kigali. It boasts the best bakery in all of Kigali, where I always get two loaves for the next week. The pool is laid out in such a way that you don't feel like a spectacle for the pleasure of the Novotel guests. The grounds fell like a park, with tennis courts, crested cranes strutting through the tropical plumage and said pool. The Novotel has the only "healthy club" that you can find in Kigali, so each Saturday has its standard slew of guests. There are the Rwandan children learning how to swim. Lessons are around eleven-ish. . Then French speaking Italian Alexandra and her handsome little son, Samuel, who arrive around 9 am. British Andrea sometimes comes. Young aid workers with their first child. The older Rwandan who swims the butterfly stroke beautifully. The group of hung-over aid workers role in around 13:00 - the 35-year old Chicagoan who still hasn't grown up, the spiky-haired, blonde South African, two nondescript Americans and then someone new this week - swaggering Mr-I'm-handsome-
and-know-it. They love to talk loudly about how drunk they got last night. They plugged their speakers into an outlet on other peoples tables, to the consternation of people who had been there all day. Not very considerate. Not at all classy.

I guess I was showing a bit more than a little leg, cuz Mr I'm-handsome-and-know-it, decided I shouldn't be left to my book. He kept watching me. Twice he tried the "Interesting book. Can I read the back of it?" trick. Something creepy about him. The second time he came over I answered sweetly "of course" and then immediately walked off to talk to someone else. Mr I'm-handsome-and-know- it was totally embarressed in front of is friends. (Katie - that's how you get ride of unwanted men.)