Thursday, October 7, 2010

This is actually the saddest I’ve been in Rwanda

In every single room, we have international extension cords, which magically turn crazy Rwandan outlets into everything else. There are so many holes in these extension cords that I really don’t know what to do with them. I guess at one point, I heard something about voltage or surge or something, but these magical extension cords seem to work with everything even hairdryers…so I guess I assumed that this whole voltage thing didn’t really matter. I don’t understand what it means anyways. (Two years in a row, I consciously decided that I didn’t have to learn the electrical unit in physics because my other grades were high enough to make up for it.)

…onto the part where I cry:

I don’t really know why I asked for an iPod blaster for my birthday. 99% of the time I’m too embarrassed to show anybody else my music selection, and the 1% of the time that I’m not embarrassed, the other person usually has more country than I do. In fact, I recently came across the flash drive of all flash drives…it was loaded with music! To cover up my embarrassment of having a 12 year old’s maturity and iTunes library size, I quickly copied every single song on the hard-drive onto my computer. The next time I looked at my iTunes, I had more songs that had never been played than songs that had. In about 10 minutes, I more than doubled the size of my iTunes library.

…I’m really putting off this crying thing:

But for whatever reason, I did ask for an iTunes blaster. And then I was embarrassed when I brought it, still in its box, to my birthday party in Giseyni. Max showed up with a speaker that is larger than I am and with two computers of music selections. I hid my iPod blaster. Compared to the 2xme sized speakers, it was more embarrassing than my music collection.

And then it mostly just sat in the corner of my room, still in its box, for about 2 weeks, as I had the harsh realization that I had no reason to have an iPod blaster because I don’t really want to share my music with anybody and I’m perfectly happy listening to 5 songs on repeat for 2 weeks straight.

But tonight I couldn’t find my iPod charger. (Turns out Zack borrowed/stole it…so we can blame all of this on Zack.) I had an ingenious idea: I’d actually USE the iPod blaster and charge my iPod at the same time! So I plugged it into the magic outlet. And plugged in my iPod. And sat down to clean-up my desk while enjoying some smooth country music.

I had about 30 seconds to think about how wonderful this was, and to start thinking about how maybe I could start spending my nights doing GMAT study problems while listening to some soft music on my iPod blaster…when…pop. It just…stopped. It was such a soft pop that I didn’t really understand.

And the room started to smell funny.

And no matter what I did, it wouldn’t turn back on.

But I wouldn’t admit it to myself, until I complained to 4 other people. And finally one of them told me to check the back of it, and if it said a number less than 240V, then it just blew it out.


I guiltily looked at Amber, and thanked her for lugging the iPod blaster over here. And thank you Mommy and Poppy. I’ve never felt like less of a true ex-pat that understands all these things. This is hopefully my last/only story about not understanding voltage. But still…I’m not so happy I learned about it. I might have preferred to have learned it in school. Okay…off to cry at my stupidity now.

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