On earlier years, I think I got the name of the village incorrect, but I do have it correct now. We got started a little late to Atanga SS on Monday, first there was the usual delay (of course), but then when we all packed and ready to leave, we realized that the bicycles we were tieing to the top of the mutatu (van) were locked in a shed, and the only man with the key had gone into town for some errands. I would love to spend one of these delays with Mike Barry or Tom Magee, not that anything would happen, of course, I would just like to be a fly on the wall. We embarked on our journey with 5 people and all of our stuff in the back of a Land Rover. I had two empty jerry cans on my leg, had one leg on top of a case of water and balanced a kerosene lamp in a bucket made from a water bottle in the other. Isaac and I took turns pushing the shelves back on to the top of the other case of water. The seats had very little padding and the bumps were brutal, but I was headed back to Atanga SS. All was good. Unfortunately, none of us thought to check if the kerosene lamp ( which I did not want, and have yet to use) had kerosene in it. It leaked into the bucket. I also noticed the bucket was leaking a little and we stopped to empty the kerosene. The driver did not like throwing away any kerosene (it is too valuable) and hollered at a young boy to come get, my homemade trash can at the kerosene that was in it. Skip ahead, I was talking about living in the concrete room that is Lacekocot, and I tried really hard not to get the same room as 2009, but guess who is back in the room with a metal window that catches all of the afternoon sun. I had cautioned Isaac about sitting very broad on the bed as all of our weight focused on our seat, might be too much for these beds to hold. As I was telling him this tale, I pulled up the mattress on the bed I was going to sleep on, and saw my bright green duct tape repair job and lashing that I had made on this bed 3 years ago. Luckily there was a non-fat ass damaged bed in the same room. Finally, the story about the killer pig. To use the outhouse at night, you have to go out the room, to the courtyard and open up a heavy metal door. Then walk around back to outhouse # 6 and open up the lock. In the middle of the night, I thought I heard someone messing with the door, there is no noise politeness in Uganda, loud noises, people talking, and loud music are frequent. But seriously, could this person not know how to operate the door. After not being able to sleep, I finally dozed for 25 minutes or so, and then work up really having to use the latrine. I woke up, pulled on some pants, and was ready. Just when I got to the door, I made out the outline of a pig in front of me. I decided not to cross an angry pig at 2 am, but then realized I had no choice. It was me or the pig. But then again, I thought it out and decided maybe the pig was a livelihood for one of my roommates in this place. What if the pig escaped, and it was detrimental to some poor soul.