Hotter Than Africa Hot

As I noted before, we spent the weekend in Charlottesville, Virginia, for Mike's ten-year college reunion. It was all sorts of reuniony. The first person he saw was his first-year roommate and we mostly hung out with those dorm buddies for the weekend.

It was so hot. It was 100 degrees and high humidity. It was a good opportunity to try out some of the light, loose clothing we've been buying for Africa. But the high in Burundi is generally in the 80s or low 90s. It was hotter in Charlottesville and Washington, D.C., than it usually is in Bujumbura. (Check out my new weather stamp to the right. It shows the pleasant Bujumbura temperatures.)

It was too hot to drink alcohol or eat anything. On Friday night after two glasses of wine and not enough to eat I was sick to my stomach. It was all water and fruit salad for the rest of the weekend. We walked as much as we could but spent a lot of time Saturday afternoon in the air-conditioned buildings looking at exhibits. This weekend I'm sure the old maps collection had more visitors than all other weekends combined since the school opened.

And speaking of the school, what was Thomas Jefferson and his crew thinking? Let's relocate to the hottest, most humid swampy area we can find, and continue wearing our fashionable wigs and wool clothing. The founding fathers were insane.

Mike's a smarty pants and all his college pals are too. It was refreshing to say, "We're moving to Burundi in August," and not be met with the blank "What the hell is Burundi?" look. People actually had heard of it and knew where it was! People had visited neighboring countries and could tell us all about the region. It was amazing. We could converse without our prepared "Burundi intro" speeches.

By 10 pm Saturday we were done. We'd caught up with everyone Mike wanted to catch up with. We weren't interested in an all-night drinak-a-thon. The band kind of sucked. We decided to leave the festivities and get some ice cream in town, then turn in early so we could actually have a relaxing drive home on Sunday. (We are so old!) As we walked across the grounds, the band started playing "Don't You (Forget About Me)," the Simple Minds' song from the end of The Breakfast Club, and we wished there was a goal post to walk past, but there wasn't and we just did John Bender fist pumps into the air. It was a pretty awesome way to end the evening.

And it may be hot, but at least there are no lions in the metro area.


(Picture from Snopes.com)