The moments that are memorable, the stuff that I live for, keeps happening on what seems to be a daily experience. Yesterday was one of the days that I will remember for the rest of my life. Travelling through the countryside on the back of a motorbike, going through dirt roads, hard red clay that reminds me of being a kid in Georgia, sweltering hot, humid, sticky, sweaty afternoon walking around the countryside next to free ducklings, chickens, red roosters, pigs and wild dogs. A meal spent with a family that had never seen a white man. The Mayor of the town arrives by taxi as he hears that a westerner has arrived in town. When he verifies this information, he phones the country magistrate, who arrives just after dinner to see such a site. They have never seen a westerner out here before--and I am only one hour from the University.
So yeah, it was a grand weekend.
I will post more later, but these three pictures have the most meaning to them for me. This last one represents five generations of family heritage....
More later.
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