The bane of my existence

Most of the roads here are not paved. You only get that luxury if you live in the city or only walk on the government-maintained highways.

The roads here are generally what the locals call terre rouge, red earth. I spend most of my time walking on dirt the color of bricks that have been exposed to years of weathering.

I find the stuff everywhere.

The white (hah) keyboard of my MacBook is now a permanent burnt orange no matter how many times I clean it with a baby wipe. Whenever I do laundry, I am afterward left with water that has turned completely brown. I sweep about a half a kilo of the stuff out of my house every morning. After two months of running on terre rouge, the sight of my Nikes caused another volunteer to comment on the state of their cleanliness. This is someone who also checked general hygiene at the gate in JFK.

And I’m sure some of it will make it back through customs on my way home to the world of asphalt and driveways.