Special K, Special Day

I never realized how much I loved cereal until I went a year without it.

      I was be-bopping around my banking town, Singida, the other day when I noticed once again, how swiftly it is developing.  Roads are being paved, new shops are being opened- it’s almost unrecognizable from when I arrived last August.  Let me just say, I’m a big fan of development.  For all the obvious reasons, of course, but also because along with a higher quality of life for locals, Singida’s development has miraculously brought me cereal (refer to the first sentence of this entry).

      I was on my way to the Posta to check my mail when I passed by a small duka and noticed a lone, dusty box of Special K on one of the shelves.  Grossly overpriced as it was, I made the purchase without hesitation.  God only knows where the duka owner acquired the rarity.  I didn’t ask questions. 

      These days I enjoy waking up, making a cup of ginger chai and indulging in a bowl of cereal and some of the fresh cow’s milk that I buy daily from Joseph’s family for about 42 cents a liter.  Eating without having to cook is a novel idea and one that you don’t encounter often in the village.

      That’s it.  That’s all this entry is about.  Cereal.  Here’s to the American breakfast classic.