Conflagration

Post-team-meeting-and-pizza, sitting outside on our little bougainvillea-covered veranda, dim moonlight and stars, cool breeze. About half the team drifted home for early bedtimes, and half stayed chatting. I brought out candles and a new game sent in a care package: BeRhymed, a combination of catch-phrase, charades, and pictionary. We laughed at Jack's drawing of "shocked" and my acting out of "vampire", listened in amazement as Ashley took her team's score far into the lead. Then it was Caleb's turn, and as he drew clues I leaned closer to get a better look by candle-light as we raced the timer. Suddenly the night got brighter, much brighter. At the same moment I heard crackling near my right ear, smelled the acrid odor of burning hair, and saw everyone else's face register the same little "shock" drawing that Jack had penciled a few minutes prior. My hair was on fire. It only lasted a few seconds, by the time I jumped up beating on it with my hands it was out, I never even got to STOP, DROP, and ROLL. It seems the cheap local Ugandan hair goop I buy here, Venus Hair Food, to dampen down the frizz, is a petroleum based product, and quite flammable. Thankfully I don't use much, so it burned off in about three seconds. And thankfully I have a LOT of hair, so the loss is not even hardly noticeable. But for the rest of the team and family it was quite a sight, Jennifer in flames.