Halfway through mixing up a batch of bran muffins this morning, I realized I used the last egg yesterday. I walked next door to see if Marco had any. He didn't. So I grabbed my wallet and headed out the gate and a few doors down to Zambia's version of the convenience store, a little tuck shop in somebody's yard, built from sticks and plastic and stocking sugar, gum, matches, Jiggies (Zam-style cheese puffs), and other necessities. He had eggs; now we have muffins.
On my way back to the house, the bicycling vegetable man was headed up the street singing, "Lepu! Impwa!" I could have done all my shopping for the day within 10 meters of our gate, wearing my pajamas.