Things I've managed to avoid while here but others haven't:
painful sunburn
scorpions falling on your head
broken sandals
kanga skirts falling off in public
constapation/diahhrea

Things I haven't managed to avoid here but other's have:
getting an entire congregation to laugh at your miscommunications

My family knows how often I butcher the pronunciation of words, but until now, that's only held for English words:
On Sunday, we piled into and on top of our land-rovers and drove to a pentacostal village church nearby.  I so wish I could upload pictures to show you the landscape of this trip, but my mere words will have to suffice.  The red dirt roads brought us past mud houses that spilled forth children waving and shouting 'Mazungu!', and check out these colors: short vibrant green stalks of maize cut through by rich red dirt paths, contained by pure blue skies (mom...these are the types of skies you've always wanted), surrounded by navy blue mountains in the distance and green, boulder spotted hills in the foreground.  Breathtaking. 
It's amidst this beauty that I prefer to make my blunders.
Walking into the church, I was the last female student and I quickly observed that the left side of benches was quickly filling up, so I bravely and intrepidly thought  I'd start my own row on the right side.  Sitting down by myself, excited for the service and the prospect of sitting by Tanzanians, I eventually clued into the fact that my friends were all motioning to me that I had plopped down in the middle of the men's section...quickly sinking over to the female side, I thought any major blunder had been avoided.
I was in the back, loving listening to my brothers and sisters praise the Lord in Swahili (Dad, you say Methodists used to be known for their singing...you've got to come hear the Africans), loved watching the dancing and the curious children who surrounded us.  Then the pastor announced that we, the Americans...and one Canadian...would stand up and introduce ourselves and say where we were from, in Swahili.  The scenario was perfect - I was the last female and had plenty of time to practice, so as 20 some girls stood up before me, I ran the phrases over and over in my head, feeling super confident...not a trace of nerves.
'Jina langu ni Liz, na nimetoka Ohio'  (My name is Liz and I've just come from Ohio.)
Simple.
Standing up, with all eyes on me, I confidently proclaimed, loudly, to the congregation that 'I come from Liz, and my name is Ohio'
Thinking I had aced it, I started to sit back down.  Halfway down, I caught on to the laughter that errupted from the whole church and, realizing something must have gone wrong, I too began laughing. Once safely sitting down, I realized my mistake and lost it, laughing so had that tears were streaming down my face. 
OH-IO I guess :)
At the end of the service, everyone filed out and shook one anothers' hand as the congregation formed a circle outside.  Making my way through the lines, I shook my friends' hands as they greeted me with 'Hey Ohio' or 'Nice going Ohio', which only threw me into more fits of tearful laughter.
...the joy of the Lord seems to have followed me here in the form of tearful laughter.
As if that wasn't enough of an adventure, a group of us headed out at 2 am this morning, taking a walk through the coffee fields along the river, to a nearby campsite to watch the Super Bowl.  I went for the commercials only to realize they don't air the American commercial here.  So, I fell asleep in the fourth quarter after that bizarre half time show.  But I do know, dad, it was a football game, Giants won, and you all got more sleep than I did, but the walk back to campus in the early morning was worth every touchdown...even the ones they weren't supposed to make.