I am over this week and not particularly feeling the love with South Sudan right now. This week/country has claimed three lives near me, including my friend Brian who died of Malaria while on a hunting trip in Canada. Then this place tries to take me down and I end up in the clinic for the first time since I got here. What I thought were just spider bites turned out to be freakin' acid burns from a stupid Nairobi Fly. (For the faint of heart, please do not google.) Who needs tattoos when you can have acid scars on your chest? Woohoo!