The bags are packed, three of the four children are in a melatonin-induced sleep, the fire is hot, and smoking, and the rains are pouring. Hours away, we will awaken and walk out the door to our ambulance taxi, to hopefully arrive on time for our eight o’clock JetLink flight to Nairobi. Our six week stint is complete.
Sitting in a Chapter’s Starbucks only a day before we left, a friend remarked that it will change your life. I wanted her to explain more, what did that mean? Now I’m beginning to come out the other side and understand. Life expanding, that’s how I’d put it. I heard the stories, I’ve paid attention, I’ve cared what others’ lives are like, and now I can see a little more clearly the enormity of comfort to which I am accustomed. I’ve been taught to be a little more content, a little more capable of extending myself and a little more aware that I can indeed slow the days in my life.
In the afternoon, the girls whipped up a batch of brownies for the station residents. We hosted chai for Pastor Charles and his grandson, Victor. Rispah and her son, Bryan, came for an hour chat. We bought a case of twenty four soda for the neighbourhood children and played with them one last time. We made our faces present at the Sunday evening bible study. We all know that the trip is nearing an end when three year old Zachary asks, please have some malarone. Off to malaria country. Hannah frantically photographed everything knowing that this will be her last time seeing Kapsowar, this year. Kwa herini…good bye, we’ll see you again!