Coming Together

Today I was looking forward to a time I had set with my friend "the bleacher" (who washes and irons clothes) to walk around the neighborhood and learn some new things.  Well, of course, the never-ending checklist of truck errands needed my attention at the same time I had set with my friend, so I asked if he wanted to come along for a taxi ride and then return in our truck.  

Here is a picture of my friend, our taxi driver who is Rastafarian, and me.  Yes, that is a seashell at the end of one of his dreads.  No, we are not in Jamaica.  No, despite the look on my friend's face we are not about to have an accident.  Yes, I did learn a lot on that short drive!

After we picked up the truck, my friend wanted to take me to his home to meet his wife and daughter before our walk.  I was excited to do this since we've been so curious about where all these people live.  We drove into his neighborhood and had to back up once because the "road" (I use that term lightly) was too narrow for the truck to fit between the mud-brick walls.  We finally made it to his courtyard where he, his wife, daughter, and mother live.  The girl next to him in the picture is his niece whom he cares for since her mother died and her father cannot get a job.  All the bricks in the pile behind them he made by hand for the new house he is about to build for his little family.  It will feature one bedroom and a living room, which will be an upgrade from the one room structure in which they currently live.

This is millet hanging from the tree in their courtyard.  They grind the millet by hand and the resulting powder is on the tarp in the background.

 Inside his mother's house more millet and corn hang from the roof for future meals:

His wife was busy preparing their dinner, a portion of which she sent home with me for Sara and the kids.

By the time we visited with one of his brother's family, some of his friends, and headed back to our neighborhood it was already getting dark.  We postponed our walk so he could get back home, rest, and get ready to work his second job.  I am humbled by this hard working man, and his family's generosity toward us. 

Our truck paperwork is almost complete and, in the meantime, we are making friends.  It feels like things are coming together.

"My whole life I have been complaining that my work was constantly interrupted, 

until I discovered the interruptions were my work." 

 Henry Nouwen