Gift Horses

While we were in Basse I was lucky to receive three huge boxes from my mom, my dad, and cousin Megan. Normally, I would either have to come down to the city to pick them up, or every other month they will get delivered by a vehicle on whats called mail run. While we were in training though, our Dr. (Dr. Dziwa Blessing) decided to take a trip through the country to see where everybody lived. He brought all the packages for people that lived past Basse, and so when he pulled over for the day in Basse he gave me all of the packages. I took them out into the garden with my headlight so that I could open them away from the group. The first box I opened was from my mom, it was full of the stuff that mere mortals would refuse to put in the mail, but not my mom. She sent me two huge jars of Nutella chocolate spread, girl scout cookies, tons of peanut butter crackers that were smashed in transit but proved to be just as good when poured as crumbs into my mouth. I asked for toothbrushes, and toothpaste, and got enough to last me and a handful of villagers until Christmas of 2015.  I also asked for something about El Paso to remind me of home, and my mom gave me the finest hardcover books ever published on the city, but just to have something to compare it to she also sent a magazine on New Mexico, the West in general and five or so National Geogrpahic's, just so I would have a sense of place. The box was heavy, expensive to send, and full of luxury items that only my mom would ever send and I can never say thanks enough for. My dads box was economically packed full of good(i.e.)s centered around a new pair of shoes. He included a million instant coffee packs, which are actually the kind of thing that is really popular here and works good for me. He also included one fine bag of real ground coffee, which I will probably keep in Basse and drink only when I am on a mini vacation there and have nothing to interrupt my coffee drinking. To fill in space between coffee and shoes, he also sent a lot of packs of tuna and pink salmon, and some beef jerky. One plastic bag of beef jerky was compromised by rats in the mail room, but not compromised enough to keep me from eating it right away, and then finishing it up with girl scout cookies. For everyone who knows Megan, or Judy, or if you know anyone cool, a description of her box will come as no surprise. Its a retro green hardcover box, and my address is printed on graph paper. Inside the box is no regard for economical packing, or sense of desperation that space is running out. There are items, and they speak for themselves. A bag of beef jerky, a pack of salmon, a bar of dark chocolate, and perhaps the coolest thing ever sent across the ocean… a bag of kettle cooked barbecue potato chips. My moms box is a 4x4 pickup truck blaring country music with the windows down on a lift and huge tires, my dads box is a Prius bringing home 50 pounds of oatmeal and tri-tip from the Costco, and Megan's box is James Dean cruising his motorcycle down the alley. No matter what comes or doesn't come, whoever is checking up on me means so much and makes me a pretty lucky guy. Thanks So Much!