The girls next door

I met my first garden neighbor. And I think I've found my long lost gardening twin! Someone else who doesn't like to work too hard. Who I overheard gave up at the garden today because the soil was too hard. Who bossed me around last night because I wasn't pulling the weeds correctly. Or at least I think that's what she was saying -- I don't speak an East African dialect.

Meet Fadumo, my garden neighbor (who looks like she's watering her friend)

After we become better friends I'll take an actual photo of her (one where she knows I'm taking it). It'll be a unique friendship we have. One where she talks, I listen, I have no idea what she's saying, I smile, I make up what I think it was she said and then I respond. And she repeats. I learned today that Fadumo doesn't want to learn English. I'm still trying to conquer Spanish so I won't be adding any African language to the mix just yet.

It's a collective group of women that garden the neighboring plot with Fadumo.


It looks like they each take a row or two.



Their neat, organized, well-planned garden.


Mine. No wonder Fadumo was bossing me around about the weeds.



I want to be a part of their gardening club. One because their garden is so orderly. But more so because they cheer, laugh, chat a mile a minute their way through gardening. It's like girls night out at the garden. Today there were cheers all around for the first cucumber plant to sprout.

Fadumo, can I quit my garden and join yours instead? Woo hoo is universal, right?! I'll bring the matching gardening tools.