The world didn't end Friday, all my preparations notwithstanding. I went up (in elevation) to Njombe town for a doomsday party armed with wine, cookies, and glitter (just in case we have time for a final fabulous musical number before the lights go out). We the volunteers of the southern highlands had a lot of free time that day, since by our assumption, the Mayans would have assumed the world would be ending at sunset in their own time. After an internet-less fact check (we guessed), we decided that the Yucatan peninsula is probably in the same time zone as Texas, and in December in Texas the sun probably sets around 6:30pm, which would be our 3:30am. So we went to the waterfall at the end of the world to pass the time.
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Above the boulders
Slick from roaring waterfall,
A patient spider. |
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| Sure sign of the impending apocalypse: man in a skirt playing a ukelele. |
Waiting for the end of the world was very omen-y--the power kept going in and out--but we went to bed rather than wait for the end of days in the very early morning. We're wimps that way. We awoke to find that the apocalypse was still bado, a useful Kiswahili word meaning later, where later is in the range from an hour from the current time to never. Such the disappointment!
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