the nekkid

It’s hot. I thought it was hot before, you know, when I came. I was wrong. Those were the balmy days of spring. The rain moderates the temperature, etc. Now summer has arrived, with a vengeance, and it’s very hard to do anything but sit sprawled in front of a fan. Naked.

I’m not in any way an expert on South Sudan, but I have a suspicion that clothes are a relatively new introduction. It’s too hot for clothes. I wouldn’t wear clothes if I could help it. Most people wear clothes now, but it doesn’t seem to be even worth remarking on when a man walks naked along the road after fishing or a woman bathes in the ditch next to the road in a skirt but nothing else. I am no one to talk. I grew up in Liberia, in a place where women didn’t wear shirts. (THEN they didn’t wear shirts; they do now. Times have changed.) So I’m not particularly shocked by women nekkid from the waist up. The totally nekkid men is new to me.

(By the way, somewhat or not at all on topic, there are four hens tied up behind me (dinner, anyone?). They are alive. There is also one, loose rooster, who is somewhat forcefully breeding with the tied hens. It seems all wrong to me. And who BLOGS about this? It's life, people.)