Ryan Cooper

Hello All- RJA is currently unable to post because the power button on his cell phone is broken. He thus has no way to connect to the internet. It is being fixed and he should return to fill his rightful place on the blogosphere in about a week. RJA's lil' sis'

I'm on my way back home again. This bit of South Africa is exceptionally hot and humid.

So we're here in Mpumalanga about an hour from the old training site of Marapyane. Today we went and visited our old families but unfortunately mine was not there. I picked up a cold here, just like old times. Sickness is part of the mix.

We're here at a Peace Corps training in Mpumalanga. I'll have some more stuff tomorrow. -- Sent from my mobile device

Sure, Republicans are terrible. George Bush started two wars, one of them for no reason at all. Yet somehow I can't muster as much scathing disgust at him than I can at the Democratic Party. They somehow managed to nominate some lazy elitist douche who was a terrible prosecutor, a lousy campaigner, and who insulted Red Sox fans for Ted Kennedy's old seat, and she lost. The Democrats choked away Ted Kennedy's seat. In Massachusetts . Of course, it's only one vote in the Senate, which has already passed health care legislation, but you know Democrats are going to take that belt they've wrapped around their neck, breathe deep, and tighten it ten or eleven more notches. The House won't pass the Senate bill, and no one will even mention the filibuster. Health care reform, Ted Kennedy's signature issue, is done in America for a generation. That's some sick irony. See here for more. ( h/t Village Voice for the title)

It was raining fiercely all afternoon here, sheeting soak-through-your-shirt kind of rain. An Afrikaner fellow is building a new classroom for the Grade Rs (kindergarten), and a big pile of pre-mixed concrete got thoroughly soaked. But the thing that most excited me--so much that I ran down to the bridge to get a look--was that the the river was running. I imagine it was going 75 cfs or so, not a savage flood or anything, but my heart was gladdened. In fact, I was almost giddy. I watched a rusty 55-gallon drum float under the bridge whistling to myself like a fool. I've talked a lot about culture on this blog, often describing the relative lack of it in American society. But standing on that bridge, watching the thick, dirty, chocolate milk water feeding waves off half-submerged acacia bushes, I knew where I come from. River folk.

  This little guy is in Grade 1 now. He stays here with his grandma (my host mom), and mostly hangs out with my host brother Tebogo (his malome, or uncle). He's always got a big smile, but he's got a bit of a kitten-torturing habit. I'm trying to break him of that.