It is times like this that I am reminded of one famous line from a short chapter of Ray Bradbury’s “Something Wicked this Way Comes.” I think it captures the essence of my past few weeks in Tchad. It goes something like this:

Nothing much happened the rest of the night.

Now, to you North-Americaners, this may be an untrue statement. I overhauled my bicycle, passed out at the doctor’s office when he took blood (and was caught before I hit the floor by a certain Canadian bystander), recieved visitors from the capitol city, experienced a sun-blotting dust storm, and bought a giant sack of fried bean pastries from a woman by the bike repair man.

I assure you, all of this seems mere habit by now and no one should be excited or concerned by it. Or maybe you should. One of the headlines on BBC news is “Math genius urged to take prize.” Really, if he does not want the prize, don’t force him to take it. It’s not like he’ll have contributed any more or less to mathematics without it.

We have been giving final exams at school this week. I’m thinking about nominating one of my students for an English prize to see if she will accept it.