Living Paranoid

Life under the mosquito net.

I don't know why I let her get to me this time. I've lived in Asia. I've been bitten by mosquitos all over the world. I'm not saying that I'll never contract anything but do I need to live in fear?

Just before I left on this trip, my mom started telling me about Malaria. Malaria kills about 150 people a year in the United States. It kills many more elsewhere. A couple of days prior, I went to get my Yellow Fever shots. There the nurse started weaving a web of disease and incontinence designed to scare the bejeezus out of me and spent hundreds, if not thousands on immunizations.

I vowed not to let it get to me yet I've been here for two weeks and the paranoia of mosquitoes and malaria lingers. Could that dirty, nasty buzzing creature hold my demise? I must run. I must hide. I must get real.

Yes, the threat of death from Malaria is real. I hope I don't get it. I've been spraying my clothes and creaming my body with all the repellants and DEET this and DEET that. I've even started to convince myself that maybe I feel feverish.

The Beausejour has no air conditioning. This means either suffer in the heat of a closed room or leave the patio doors wide open, allowing the millions of Rwandan mosquitoes access to my ample bosom (body) filled with tasty blood.

In retaliation, I've taken to hiding under the mosquito net at night during my fitful slumbers. Sure I'm donning shorts, t-shirt and slippers as I smoke my Cuban cigars on the patio with a Diet Coke at night, but I've slathered on insect repellant and the cigar smoke should act as a sufficient enough smokescreen.

But at night, it's the mosquito net. I've never slept under a mosquito net but it's not too bad - so long as you blast that fan on high and point it at the net. The combined breeze and net should keep them at bay, but then you have to secure the net down around the bed so it doesn't blow away leaving you exposed to disease and certain death.

Here in Rwanda, I've fought the good fight. But I've tired of watching American Mzungus walking around in their skirts, shorts and Birkenstocks. If they're not living in fear of Malaria, then neither shall I.

If I stop blogging within six months, you'll know what happened.

A Thousand Tweets

One Thousand Tweets - say it isn't so!

Eating Beausejour

Macadamia Nuts and a Coke.

The highlight of the Beasejour has been it's restaurant. My first few meals here were just great. Perfectly cooked, tender beef and just the right accompaniments. I loved it. Even the breakfasts were nice. Though the last couple of days have been a bit disappointing. The pork bleu cheese was small and disappointing and then tonights final meal, a reprise of the Steak Farci was nothing like the other day. Lame.

Maybe it's just a different cook today and yesterday. At least, that's what I'm hoping because these French classics are pretty darn good!



Steak Farci - stuffed beef steak with mushrooms, bacon, bread crumbs and cheese cream, with rice.




Inside the Steak Farci.




Coke, peanuts and banana Fritter.




Inside the Banana Fritter.




Escalope de Beouf Vienneoise - pan fried beef escalope with lemon and anchovies.




Morning breakfast with samosa, onion soup, gorilla tea and fruit juice.




Inside the vegetable samosa.



Coke and Potato Crisps.




Roti de Porc au Bleu d'Auverge - roasted pork with blue veined cheese.




Morning breakfast - beef gizzards, french toast, yogurt, potatoes and gorilla tea.



Last Dinner: Steak Farci - not as good or the same as the first time.






Last Breakfast: some sort of pate, some sort of fried thing, hard boiled eggs, cereal and gorilla tea.

Training Baristas

The baristas gather at Bourbon Coffee.




Betty hides from the air conditioner.




The Gaggia three group and Mahlkonig K30 stepped grinder.




Blaise talks cappuccino.




Blaise talks steaming milk with my terrible illustration.




Faith's first latte art.




Ibrahim pours some art.


Inyange Milk: Official Sponsor of the Barista Training.




Perpetue and some capps.




Ibrahim pretty.




Ibrahim considers espresso.




Gaggia!




The Boys discuss tamping.



Our table.




Mongolian Beef for Lunch




And Chips.




And a Diet Coke.




Lunchtime camaraderie.




Could be a "3.5"




Blaise and his capp.




Betty loves Iced Mochas.




Dissecting the cappuccino latte art.




Reopold and Benjamin debate the finer points of latte art.




Faith and Betty carry my bag.




Perpetue and Betty watch the shots.




Faith distributes.




Watching Coffee Porn on their phone.




Rwandan Barista Champion Bosco illustrates.




Curry Chicken Indiana




Reopold and Sonia.




Signing certificates.




Perpetue's drink makes the news.




Iced Caramel Macchiato - oh, well...




Wrapping it up.




The Bike For Rwanda...




Endcap: Chocolate croissant and Diet Coke.