It the day before the day before I leave and I can feel my heart beginning to sense the loss and the separation. There is little time for that as Janet is so in tuned with the Lord's purpose, that she keeps us up and moving. Today was no different, though when she brought me back to the hotel about 3:30 and told me to rest for at least 2 hours before we met for dinner, I realized we may both be getting weary...the mirror testifies to that very thing.
But today was a day to go to the place where Brenda's family is from. She wasn't living there when she came to Chayah, but was instead sent to work the rice fields for an aunt near Kakira. We drove 2+ hours...partly because of this kind of traffic jam...
Partly because, I had a bag of candy left and we stopped along the road every time we saw a group of kids. We gained some notoriety on the way in and heard the familiar sing-song of "Muzungu" calling after us on the way back out the same dirt road.
Partly because an older woman was walking alone in the heat with her hand all bandaged up. When Janet confirmed that there was a hospital somewhere in the distance, I ask her to stop on the one lane dirt road and back the van up...all the way to the old woman. It seemed like such an easy and good idea. Backing the van that far back up the road turned into a fiasco accompanied by laughter...until finally we decided she should just look ahead and trust me to tell her which way to turn the wheel. We zig-zagged until most likely the passenger caught up to us, rather than our making much headway in her direction. Regardless, once she was in, it was at least 15 minutes driving, so who knows how long she could have walked.
Once we finally made it to our destination, the remote fishing area came alive with children. It is not likely that this area gets visitors very often...and it would be rare to see a white person. Children began yelling and coming from every direction as the van pulled up. We quickly moved through the crowd and entered the 10' diameter round mud hut. The smell of charcoal from the cooker in the corner was strong and we soon learned that the single mattress and tattered blanket was the bedding for 7. The story is a familiar one, but for the first time this trip, Janet says I failed to be "strong" as the tears began leaking through my conviction to hold it together. Its fun to both of us, when she can turn to me and make a bold statement in English, giving me direction, when not another person understands. 
A man accompanied us inside...he was called an "uncle" which I think just means older man, but not a father. We talked for a good long time about his Muslim faith. If I survive the night, it is only God's protection, as I have never in my life spoken so boldly and I am sure there was a mighty war going on in the unseen. There is a great difference between his laying his head down at night and hoping he has been good enough and following the rules that will grant him favor with Allah...and my KNOWING that I have never in my life had a day good enough to earn anything, yet being positive that my salvation is absolute. It was such a peaceful conversation and we talked back and forth with Janet translating.
We were served Casava...a root that is boiled with water to drink. I cannot tell you how difficult it is to eat, knowing that it might really be taking the food from someone elses mouth. But to refuse would have been a greater disservice.
But then in the midst of all of the signs of suffering there was this sweet gift...that came to visit.
The only way it really worked was to hold him facing away from me...because...well this.
As much as I love the babies...surely I have also traumatized more than one!
We had about 100 tiny toys left to hand out, a few last pieces of candy and a few cookies. It changes no lives, but maybe today there was a different kind of fun. And visitors alone, make for something to talk about.
It was an equally long drive back and the rain started in. We stopped for a grandmother along the road, carrying a toddler and loaded them up and stopped for chicken on a stick.
I know nothing about this particular boy...Judith had the camera today...and chose him for a special picture.
Tomorrow will be the last official day of this trip. Church at Chayah, lunch and then packing up for Monday's trip to the airport. I suppose the inevitable will be easier this time since I'll be back again in less than a month for our trip with EMI but saying goodbye is never easy.
But for Saturday...that's a wrap!
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