The first yoga session went great, with five enthusiastic participants and one nervous spectator. Only one yogi speaks English as a first language, which meant I had to be a better model, since I typically rely on verbal cues. But it went great and we had Italian coffee and apple tart afterwards and bonded about how awkward it is to live in a place where even development workers employ maids, gardeners and guards.
The power and water are still out, which gives me a good excuse to avoid running (no shower!) but also means the milk went bad and we had to make breakfast on the camp stove. The garbanzos I've been soaking for hummus since yesterday morning are both sprouting and getting smelly. This is an extra tragedy since I brought them specially from Lusaka, the only place you can buy them in Zambia. Wah!
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