I thought I was skinny, but having spent the past few days with a friend of mine named Peter, I've realized that in comparison I look like a sumo wrestler. Peter is somewhere in his mid 20's and lives in Kipsongo, a local slum. He first came to Kitale, as part of a group of close to 10 young boys whose parents were killed in tribal conflicts. Pokot raiders came to steal their cattle and the ensuing fight left Peter an orphan. For years Peter and his group of friends lived on the streets of Kitale. Nearly 10 years ago, Peter was arrested for being a street boy and sent to a detention center for 6 months. While in the detention center, Peter was brutally beaten by one of the guards, leaving him with a fractured spine among other injuries. Ever since that day Peter has been unable to lift his arms above his waist or get himself up out of bed or out of a chair without help. He relies on his group of friends to care for him in nearly every task, from showering to eating. In addition to this, the spinal injury has prevented him from gaining any weight. He is so skinny that he looks as if he is a holocaust survivor.
I have been spending a lot of my time ministering to a group of guys in Kipsongo, which is where I have gotten to become close to Peter. A few days ago I decided to take Peter to the district hospital to get x-rays on his spinal cord. Unfortunately the hospital did not have the right x-ray equipment for spinal x-rays but the doctors worried that he might also have Tuberculosis. So instead of a spinal x-ray, Peter got a chest x-ray in an attempt to diagnose the TB. This morning we went to the hospital again for Peter to get his blood tested for TB. Because he was so malnourished, his veins were very hard to find and it was nearly impossible for the doctors to draw his blood. It took close to 3 hours for 5 different doctors to attempt a total of 25 tries to draw his blood before they were able to successfully fill the vial. We are told that we will know the results tomorrow morning so any prayers would be greatly appreciated.
Despite all of this Peter has the most amazing faith and courage. He does not view any of his physical ailments as a burden and is constantly thinking of others. He owns a very small outdoor shop in the slums in which he is able to sell a few items to help pay his rent and buy any food he can afford. He prays that his shop will grow so that he can earn more money to help out his friends who have taken care of him for the past 10 years. This man of God is marked by his unshakable faith and perseverance, something that I will hope to learn from him.
This is baby Anne who is being treated at Sister Freda's hospital. The above picture is of the first time we saw her. She was 7 months old, but looked like a newborn. She came in with TB and severe malnutrition. She had such a bad cough that came out of her tiny body. This is Anne with her grandmother back in May. In June, Anne's mother was admitted to the hospital, also with TB, malnutrition, and jiggers. Anne's mother looked like she weighed fifty pounds. Unfortunately, Anne's family asked her mom to return home to work and she hasn't been back since. This is Anne today at 9 months. She is still very small for her age and is a bit behind developmentally, but she is doing great! She has more than doubled her weight and is finally getting her baby fat. She is such a happy baby now with the cutest smile. Anne will most likely end up living with the other orphans at Freda's. Anne is just one of the many people Sister Freda has nursed back to health.
This summer is flying by and I can't believe it is already the end of July. I have so many great memories and experiences, but I would like to share one of my favorites. I have been teaching at Purpose Driven Academy and one of the students in the seventh grade class, where I teach science, was in the office crying. We were told that she was often sad, upset and crying during the day and not as happy as the other kids. Her name is Protenciana, she is twelve years old and was taken from her home by a pastor so that she could have the opportunity to attend school. She lives at the school, except for during the holidays, when she goes home and stays with her mother, who is very sick. After hearing her story, we decided to go to visit her mother and see if there was anything that we could do to help. We drove to a town about twenty minutes away from Kitale, called Endebess. Her house was very small and made of mud. We could tell that her mother, Pamela, had worked hard to prepare the house for us to come. Pamela was grateful to see that there were people that cared for her daughter. She is HIV+ and her biggest fear is leaving her children behind with no one to care for them. She has two children, Protenciana, and a six year old boy named Allan. They have different fathers who have both passed away. Allan is not in school because Pamela cannot afford to pay the school fees. She works as a farm hand and is hired to help various people around her town help work their land. The only problem is that she is getting sicker and is now on medicine to help boost her immune system. This medicine should be taken with a good meal, but she often has no money to buy food so the medicine makes her too sick to work. Pamela's sister also lives in the same house with her three children, Harriet who is one year old, Junior who is six years old and Stella who is nine years old. The father left the mother alone to care for the children and her health is poor, but she refuses to get tested. None of her children are in school because she can't pay the fees either. It is sad the type of things that poor twelve year old Protenciana has on her mind. The head master assured the mother that she would be able to continue in school without fees. Pamela has to travel to Kitale every two weeks to get more medicine from the district hospital and will get to visit her daughter and get some counseling from the headmaster of the school. Despite the burden that she carries Protenciana has a love for Christ. Her teacher told us that she often tells Bible stories to the younger children that board at the school and that she loves preaching to others and learning more about Christ. It is inspiring to hear that in spite of all that she has to deal with, that even at such a young age she is able to trust Christ.
One of the highlights of my trip was when we picked up Allan and his cousin Junior from their house to bring them to school. We told the mother that we were going to bring them to school and she gave the boys baths and then gave us everything they had, which consisted of one outfit each. Allan and Junior are both six years old and had never been to school before. So we loaded them in the car and began the twenty minute drive back to town. These boys had never ridden in the car and were just wide eyed the entire time taking in everything as we drove. We also found out that they had never been outside of their village and were also experiencing seeing Kitale town for the first time. We stopped in town to buy them new school uniforms and shoes. Both of the boys didn't have shoes and we bought them their first pair. It was funny watching them figuring out how to walk in shoes. Then we took them to eat at a restaurant in town. We ordered them chicken and french fries. They didn't know how to use forks and had never had french fries before that. It was a day of firsts. They were very quiet and probably overwhelmed for the first part of the day, but as it wore on they began to warm up and their personalities shown through. After lunch we took the kids to Sister Freda's hospital to get a check-up and make sure that they were fit for school and get themHIV tested. We tested Allan, Junior and Protenciana and they ended up all being negative. So we took the kids to their new home at school and it was great to see how excited the boys were. We talked to Margaret, the head teacher of the school, and she told us about the talk that she had with Protenciana the night before. She had been worried about her mother dying and what would happen to her and Allan after that because they have no relatives that have the means to care for them. Margaret told Protenciana that she had nothing to worry about and when her mother dies that she would take care of her and Allan. It is great to see someone with such a great heart for children. It is encouraging to see someone dedicate their life to making sure that these kids have the life that they deserve. A few days later we Junior's sister, Stella, who is nine years old was brought to the school by her mother. We were planning on picking her up when we went, but she was not at home. So we took her to get a new uniform, shoes and took her to Sister Freda's as well. Again, God had his hand of protection on her and she also tested negative for HIV. It is great to visit the school and see how quickly they have adjusted to their new surroundings and how truly happy they are.
From left to right Junior, Stella and Allan.
Thank you for taking the time to read a little about my trip!
After spending a number of weeks in Kitale I have met a number of people who have impacted my life and changed my heart forever. One ministry site that I love spending time at is a place called Discover to Recover.Discover to Recover is a not only a school but it is also a home for around 45 children who have or are affected by HIV and AIDS. These children are anywhere from the ages of two to sixteen and they have all formed a family from living together. So many of the children that live at this home have stolen pieces of my heart in separate ways but one boy who has stolen a huge chuck of my heart is named Lamic.
Where do I even begin with this boy. Lamic is one of the most gentle and kindhearted kids I have met here. There is something so different about this kid than the other kids and I can't quite put my finger on it. We have had some fun moments together and we have also had some great talks that I would have never dreamt of having with a twelve year old boy. We talked about God and His plan for Lamic's life and the proof of the Lord is clearly present in his life. This is not an easy thing to talk about with the kids here because of the great poverty they are all in, but Lamic made it easy. He was so transparent with his past and his hurts because of how he has learned from them and because they have brought him to where he is today.
After this conversation with Lamic God encouraged me and completely reaffirmed why I am spending my summer here. I'm not here to assist in medical work and I'm not here to teach a classroom full of kids but I am positive that the Lord has me here for relationships. Sitting down and talking with kids about the Lord. Lamic has been such a blessing in my life and when I return home in a few weeks time a piece of my heart will be at Discover to Recover with Lamic.
Thank you such much for taking an interest our journeys.
During my time in Kitale, I have been spending a large amount of time at a place called Deliverance Church. Deliverance is a church that serves the surrounding community and includes a school on the compound that has all classes from baby class all the way through high school. After about two weeks in Kitale I had the privilege of teaching an English class to form two students (sophmores in high school). I was given a class of around 35 students. The students range in age from 16 to 20. When I first walked in the classroom on the first day, I was scared to death. I had never expected to find myself in front of 30 some Kenyan students that I didn’t know at all.
It has been two months now since I started teaching at Deliverance and it has been two of the most rewarding months of my life. I cant wait to run through the door of my classroom and see the smiling faces of these students that have become some of my greatest friends. Monday through Friday I go to school and teach English for forty minutes with these students and we have such a great time. I have grown to love them each individually as I have sat down with many of them and heard their stories.
One day after class I told my students that I was going to be praying for them and if they wanted me to pray for anything to please let me know. No one made any requests, then later in the week a student named Sauliemon came to me after class and told me his story. He is an 18-year-old orphan that is from a refugee camp in Sudan. He lost his parents and 3 other siblings during warfare in his village and he still to this day, has never been able to find them. He came to Deliverance with other boys from his camp and boards at the school. He has been such a wonderful student in class, and has taught me so much about perseverance and humility in the little amount of time that I have known him. Sauliemon in the hardest working student I have and on our last exam he earned an A of 98% only missing one question.
Sauliemon has continued to amaze me with his heart and his kindness. He is from some of the worst circumstances and continues to be a light to the class that he is in. He helps other students that are in need and he would never refuse to do anything I asked of him. He is always respectful towards me and helps translate things I am trying to say to the class (apparently Americans talk too fast...who knew?!) When the others don’t understand. I always enjoy seeing him in class with a smile on his face and an open hand to greet me. He has been such a joy and encouragement to me. I have been so honored to meet him and I know that no words can do him justice. I am so thankful for the opportunity to serve at Deliverance Church and to meet students like Sauliemon.
Please pray for Sauliemon as he is on the journey to finding his family and pursuing an education. Thank you, Delia Baltierra
At Sister Freda’s Cottage Hospital there is a nurse named Alice. She seems to be in her mid-40’s and has 6 children ranging from the ages of 20 to 9. Every shift this woman offers kind words and encouraging smiles to her patients and her co-workers. Alice treats each patient as though they are her one and only patient and with every action and word, you can tell she really does care about every one of her patients.
Even though she is responsible for many tasks at the hospital she never ceases to offer me advice or a word of encouragement. Being in Alice’s presence is always a joy and I feel so honored to spend time learning from her this summer.
In the medical field, I hear it’s easy to treat symptoms and forget to treat the patient as a person. Nurse Alice is the perfect example of excellent patient care and showing love to others, just as Matthew 7:12 says “So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you…”(NIV).
Okay okay, I know that this post is long overdue. Perhaps, many of you (hopefully not just my parents, though you guys are also included in this) who have been checking this blog regularly have been wondering what could be causing such a delay in my posting on this page. Let me begin by offering my sincerest apologies. Secondly, well, I’ll just take this opportunity to attempt to explain myself.
See, for one, the Internet that we receive here in Kenya isn’t nearly as reliable as say, Cox Telecommunication Services (a local ISP back home). Actually, to use words like “isn’t nearly as reliable as Cox...” is being way too generous to the Orange Telecomm Company, self proclaimed as Kenya’s premier high-speed Internet provider (to be honest, the only parts of that proclamation that aren’t blatant lies are “Kenya’s” and “internet”). There are myriad causes for the loss of Internet we experience almost hourly in this house, and I’ll give you a few of the million (literally one million) in order to provide some perspective.
1. Orange Telecomm satellite failure 2. Severe rainstorms/ hailstorms (apparently yesterdays was the worst one in years) 3. Power outages 4. The single phone line that provides telephone/internet service to the entire city gets pulled down by a Lori (Semi Trailer) at any number of random locations. 5. The aforementioned phone line gets stolen from the phone-poles right outside our house. 6. The replacement for the aforementioned line gets pulled down or stolen the very next day.
I think you guys may get the idea.
But all that aside, as the Internet is (at least temporarily) functioning, there is another reason for my absence from the School of Blog. Last week us guys traveled up to Turkana, the northernmost portion of the Kenyan Rift Valley Province, to the towns of Lodwar and Kakuma. The trip really was life changing, and I am not using that term lightly; and, as life changing trips usually go, it has taken me this long to process the voyage enough to even start talking about it. In all actuality the five days spent up there will be the subject of probably a decades worth of processing. Yet, without further ado, I’ll attempt (feebly) to give you all a brief rundown of our experiences*.
*Despite my choice (poor) of words like “brief” this post will most likely get pretty lengthy. I’ll try to break up the monotony (I mean totally exciting and riveting journalism) with things like pictures and videos, but that can only do so much and go so far. And, let’s be honest for a sec here, brevity isn’t really my forte. That being said, please bear with me.
So on Wednesday morning at 5:00 am we (Matt, Chris, Pat, Nick, and myself) loaded into Pastor Ben Tanguli’s van and departed for Lodwar, a mere 450 kilometers away. The first hour was smooth sailing and we caught the sunrise right as we were transitioning from mountain forests to the desert basin of Turkana Land. It looked like this:
Beautiful right? Well whatever joyous feelings were felt after that sight were quickly snuffed out by the 8.5 hour, road lacking, hemorrhoid causing, trek through a desert heating up in the midday sun. We survived however, barely, and landed in Lodwar at just about dusk and settled in for the night. I was told that the long hot drive would be worth it, and I trusted Matt and Chris' assurances. However, I never in a million years anticipated just how worth it the inconveniences actually were going to be. I can honestly say that I would take that drive 10 times in a row, maybe even while actually on fire, to see the things we saw and meet the people we met.
The next day was filled with our helping to orchestrate a Purpose Driven conference for the pastors of the region. Hands were shook, hugs were given, prayers were lifted up, and emails were exchanged (by the hundreds, Kenyans love to trade emails, in fact my inbox is filling up with them by the second). It was so inspiring to see over a hundred pastors sweating through the blistering heat in order to learn how they may become better shepherds to their respective flocks. We said our goodbyes to the Lodwarians (real term?) and left for Kakuma, a mere 120 Kilometers north. The Lord shined on us (through the UN’s maintenance of the road between the towns) and the hour drive through the Turkana Sunset eased our weary hearts. Then I almost died, and we caught it on video!
We arrived just after nightfall and quickly settled into bed and sleep...
WHO’S DOWN FOR SOME 4:30 AM ISLAMIC CALLS TO PRAYER?
NO? WHAT ABOUT 5:30 AM ISLAMIC CALLS TO PRAYER?
COME ON! REALLY? WELL, HOW ABOUT 6:30 AM ISLAMIC CALLS TO PRAYER?
“The Lord rises early!” as they say and so we wasted no time getting our days going. The bulk of which were spent visiting schools, and engaging with the Turkana people in their desert villages. My explanations of what went on would take several blogs worth of space and so I’ll try and let this picture and video sum up the experience.
I don’t know what it is about Kenyans voices uniting in songs to God that hits so deep, but what I do know is that at the close I am always doing the same thing, wiping tears from my face. There’s just something so primal about the sound, so human, so raw, something that transcends all culture, all language, and really all time. This is a once in a lifetime feeling that I’ve got to have several times since being here.
We met with villagers, prayed with them in their churches, and were welcomed into their homes (which were made of sticks and cardboard boxes). They look like this, both the people and their homes:
As we left one such home we were lead to a boy suffering from what we thought was Trachoma (basically a flys invading the eye and laying its eggs there) a sure means to blindness. We brought to the boy to the nearby Mission Hospital where we soon learned that the boy was suffering from Corneal Ulcers (basically a laceration to the eye that grows in size due to a lack of treatment), which would have caused just as much blindness as Trachoma. So we got the boy treated and were assured of his recovery and were offered a tour of the hospital, which was incredible.
We then spent a good amount of time in the UN Refugee Camp, built to house those who fled their homelands (Sudan, Democratic Republic of Congo, Ethiopia, and Somalia) due to genocide and unrest.
Upon returning to the guesthouse where we were staying we became fast friends with James, who we would soon learn was a Sudanese Lost Boy now living in America, who was returning to Sudan for the first time since 1987 to see the mother he left behind at the age of 7. We stayed up till the wee hours of the morning as he regaled us with his nearly unimaginable tale of faith and survival, of which I could hardly do justice on this page, but trust me James is not a friend I will ever forget.
Of course that's not it, countless people were met and a billion other events took place, but seeing as you’ve probable already spent the better part of an hour reading this near novel, I’ll save them for when I see all of you in person. Also, I'm not sure reading about them here can really do them justice. I mean, this post is obviously the opposite of short, but I'm not sure I could truly express my feelings even if I had infinite letters, words, and parentheses to use. It's one of those things you struggle your whole life to fully comprehend. Talking about it, I feel like a total moron, as can be seen in this final video.
But you know, I think I'll get there as more time sets in. As revelation illuminates meaning, the adequate words will follow. But I will say this, God really moved on this trip, and it wasn't through charismatic healings (though healings did occur) or speaking in tongues (though different languages were spoken). It was through hearing a call and following, it was through being in the right place at the right time (which I truly believe is due to divine providence). You don't need to be some prophet or a perfect moral example, you can just be yourself! And attempt to follow where Christ leads you to the best of your ability. That is that. Thanks again for taking the time to read this (seriously I know it must have been like a marathon, and I hope you had the endurance of a Kenyan). I ask that you keep all of us and those we met in Turkana in your constant thoughts and prayers, as we do them and you.
As my time in Kenya comes to a close, it's unreal how fast my trip went. At the same time, I feel as if I've been here longer than I really have, as I am completely settled in here. Over the past three weeks, I have visited many ministry sites and met with the people who run them, listening to the stories of how their ministry began, and their vision for it. Talking with and holding the hands of the children at these centers never ceases to bring a smile to my face. I have also enjoyed walking through town, interacting with and waving to the people on the street and in the stores. Everyone pronounces my name wrong, but they have the right idea, and the fact that they remember at all inspires me to try to memorize every one of the precious names and faces I meet.
I love hearing individual stories and talking with the people here. However, I have to confess that my favorite moment in Kenya thus far has not been a conversation, great as those have been, but a song. In church one Sunday, the boys and girls who used to stay at the Mercy House got up to sing for the congregation. They praised God with such jubilation that I did not know whether to beam or bawl, so I did a little bit of both. The night before, those boys and girls had spent the night with us, and I was able to hear their trial-filled stories. For them to then praise God with the joy that they had was overwhelming, and incredibly contagious. The Christ-followers that I have met during my short stay in Kenya truly "get it." They recognize the role that God has played in their lives and they give God everything they have, with faith vastly uncommon in America. There is so much that can be learned from being with these amazing people, and I am truly thankful to have been able to spend part of my summer here in Kenya with them.
Today is the three week mark from when I left LAX to Kitale and so much has happened. I have hit some speed bumps along the way during this trip; however, when I reflect on God's calling to me to come here and the obstacles Gabby and I have tackled together, those bumps get smaller and smaller and, eventually, become minor side effects of international travel.
My favorite adventure we've had so far was going back up to Mt. Elgon for the second time last Thursday to give a cow, sheep, and other supplies to a woman named Alice who lost her husband to the post-election violence last summer. She lives in a mud house no bigger than a kitchen with her 11 children. Blessing this woman and helping her out was the greatest part of my trip so far. The community gathered around to witness the muzungues visiting their village and I hope some of their lives were impacted by seeing our love for Alice and her children. Pastor Steve stressed that all of the material items we gave her will not last forever, but God's love and our love for her will last forever.
Two weeks ago we finished our tour with Chris and began venturing into Kitale on our own. This is a totally new experience for me and almost feels like an initiation into being an adult and having my own independence after just graduating high school. We've walked around town, ridden the boda-bodas and the piki-pikis, and been to...interesting places. Last week, Gabby and I taught for the very first time at Purpose Driven Academy. We taught a Bible class to Class 8 and gave them a lesson about Zacchaeus the tax collector and how to live in unity with God and others. Ironically, this is an area in my life that I need to work on as well. However, living in community with other Christians my age has been such a blessing.
When I remember visiting the slums of Kipsongoh and the torn village on Mt. Elgon last week, I see the hope and love of the Holy Spirit that lives there in the midst of despair. I know that the Lord has great plans for this city, this nation, and this world. The last leg of my trip is nearing as we only have 1 day until we go back to the United States and I could go on and on about the many things I have seen. To my supporters, thank you so much for your prayers and love. To my family, I love you and miss you all! Please continue to pray for the Lord's guidance on the rest of my journey.
Having Steve around is a huge bonus, as well as a priceless asset to all of us that are serving in Kitale this summer. Over the past couple weeks we have been going over some of the purposes of our church, and trying to unpack those ideas in a place like Kitale. Tonight we hit something that I feel like a lot of students struggle with, Serving.
I know that college is one of the more selfish times in a persons life, in fact in my experience it is a time when we get a free card to be stupid, "hey, it's college" is usually the justification. Because of this, serving sort of takes a back seat to the more "important" things; school, networking, dating, and friends. I have heard it said that college is where you really discover yourself, and I think that is true, but I also feel like there is two ways that can happen, you can either discover your life in Christ, or in the world. Everyone has a personality, everyone has a passion, but unless those things are rooted in the person of God what use are they in serving Him?
I have been so impressed by everyone here, wrestling with where God wants them to serve. Sometimes you come to serve thinking that God has shaped you for a specific task, but as you pray and spend time with him things change, and God opens a whole new world to you.
Thanks to everyone who is supporting what we are doing here. we are discovering more about ourselves, and what it means to serve God the we ever imagined.
Chris
P.S. I know this picture has nothing to do with the content of this blog, I just enjoyed his smile.
So, here we are, almost at the two week mark. What can I say? Well, a lot of things actually! So much has taken place, as you all can imagine. However, for the purposes of this post I'll be speaking (typing) on what I've learned about living in close community with other people.
First things first. This trip has seriously been so awesome thus far, and living at the Compound is a real blessing. It has been kind of crazy around here I must say, people coming and going, stopping by, saying hello, waving goodbye. Yet, there exists a central core of people who remain, and living with them has been a great experience in and of itself. Don't get me wrong, it ain't all peaches and cream. As with most living situations there are minor anomalies and disturbances. Like for instance when a certain someone (I won't name any names) let's call her Delia (O.K. sorry, I lied, and I will most definitely name names) sits on the couch with her knees up and gets in the way of my arm recoiling with a scolding hot cup of tea, knocking said cup of scolding hot tea onto my knee causing near 3rd degree burns, and then having the nerve to resign all responsibility for the incident and get mad at me for jerking back and disturbing her sitting. "It's all your fault," she says. Ha!
Well, I guess in short what I'm trying to say that of course everything can't be perfect, and we are all weird and slightly annoying (okay mostly I'm talking about Chris, Matt, and myself here.) We (the aforementioned three) are constantly wondering what the people (mostly of the female persuasion) must be thinking about living in the same house as us. In the words of Matt pretending to be Anne, "We raised and paid thousands of dollars to come to Africa on a missions trip and we got these guys?" But that's the thing, the Lord is always good and faithful, and he's really shown me (and I'll dare to speak for everyone here) that it's that weirdness that make things fun and interesting. The body of Christ (or the whole world for that matter) isn't composed of one type of person, it's not boring or mundane. It runs the gamut. It's eccentric. Sure, like I said, things get rough sometimes but I think that's maybe just a matter of perspective. It's all about what you make of it. It's easy and normal to let small things get the best of you, in fact it's human. But I (and I'm willing to wager that most people are in the same boat) am not in the business of being normal. So, I'll weirdly make the best of every situation. And I'll say thank you to everyone who lives here in Kitale with me, thank you for being exactly what you are. Let us pray that God continues to grow us together as a community, and that we don't eventually kill each other (I'm expecting a sharp knife to enter my stomach soon from the girls, due to a little incident with water pistols and Chris' and my destroying them. Pray for us.) And as for the rest of you reading this, I miss your weirdness and as much as I love this place I can't wait to share my own weirdness with you again. You should all start preparing now.
Well, that's all I have for today. The heavens are restless now as a fierce thunderstorm blows outside. The best (worst) one since our arrival. This place frigg'n rules.
It seems like were always racing a storm. Here's a nice view of what that looks like:
Ok so that's all I'll say for now... D.P. Spain, over and out.
As my time in Kenya comes to a close, it's unreal how fast my trip went. At the same time, I feel as if I've been here longer than I really have, as I am completely settled in here. Over the past three weeks, I have visited many ministry sites and met with the people who run them, listening to the stories of how their ministry began, and their vision for it. Talking with and holding the hands of the children at these centers never ceases to bring a smile to my face. I have also enjoyed walking through town, interacting with and waving to the people on the street and in the stores. Everyone pronounces my name wrong, but they have the right idea, and the fact that they remember at all inspires me to try to memorize every one of the precious names and faces I meet.
