Story time 1: So I went to the store on Tuesday and bought a freshly baked loaf of sandwich bread—it was still hot even. It wasn’t cut though, but when I was checking out I saw this bread cutting machine over to one side, so after I paid, I went over to it to get my bread cut. I put my bread in the ‘in’ side and turn it on and wait for my bread. Nothing comes. At this point I realize there’s this teenage Zulu girl next to me and she’s looking at me like I’m a complete moron. She shows me how it works; you have to open up the back and put your bread into the pusher part for it to work. This whole time she still has that look of contempt on her face.
Story time 2: This afternoon/ evening, the temperature dropped to about 60 degrees. I’m still wearing my long pants and t-shirt from the day and I feel fine. All the locals—all of them—are wearing jackets and knit hats. Apparently this passes for cold here. They did not believe me when I told them this wasn’t cold.