The foot is on the mend, and I've been cleared medically to go back to my site. Armed with bandages and extra antibiotics, I think I'll be set for the next few weeks. After several trips back to the doctor in Conakry, where they debated casting my foot, they finally decided the inflammation was mostly due to infection, and that rest and drugs were all I needed.

Yesterday I made the trip from Conakry to Labé in a not so fun 13 hour taxi ride. We rode four deep in the back of a tiny sedan, and were victims to multiple breakdowns and other road troubles, like military stops and horrendous traffic jams. (Can't take any detours when there's only one road!). There's quite a bit of activity today here in Labé, as it's the day before the Tabaski "fête," the Muslim holiday where every family slaughters a goat. On a side note, I saw hundreds of goats being sold during the Conakry to Labé trip, and all I could think was, soon-to-be-dead-goat.

I'll end with a little anecdote about bad phone service, bad French, and bad communication in general that abounds in Guinea. During my stay in Conakry, I had to resort to ordering food a good bit because of my inability to walk far. So, with the help of the guards and some of the response volunteers who were in and out of the house, I would get prepared meals most nights. One night, another volunteer and I decided to try and order from a man who comes to the Peace Corps office to sell sandwiches during the day. We had taken his phone number the day before, and assumed he would be a good bet for getting decent food brought to the Peace Corps house. We were wrong.

The phone conversation, as I gathered, went something like this (in French):

PCV (peace corps volunteer): Hello, can I order some food to be delivered?
SG (sandwich guy): What?
PCV: Is the the number for the person who comes and sells sandwiches to the Peace Corps?
SG: Yes
PCV: Good, can I order two sandwiches?
SG: What?
PCV: Sandwiches.
SG: Huh?
PCV: Sandwiches!
SG: What's a sandwich?
PCV: You know, you cut open some bread, put in meat and seasoning, and stuff. SG: What?
PCV: You are the guy who comes to the Peace Corps offices with sandwiches to sell?
SG: Yes...
PCV: Then can you make two sandwiches and bring them here to the office?
SG: What kind of an office is it?
PCV: Peace Corps. The Peace Corps office. You come here and sell sandwiches. That is you, right?
SG: Yes, yes. What did you want?
PCV: Two sandwiches- any kind. Delivered here.
SG: Where is your office located again?

And so the conversation went, as I was cracking up in the background, until the volunteer got too fed up with the supposed sandwich guy. We ended up shelling out a lot of money for something that resembled a pizza from a nicer restaurant nearby.

See you in a month!