Motos and Hospitals

Only one more day in Fatick.  Then we go to Saly for the weekend retreat, and then the trip is over.  While I could definitely stay here another 200 days, I also feel very peaceful about my life.  I'm going back to Peoria.  Someday I will live overseas again, but where is anyone's guess.  The future is wide open, and I'm okay with that.

It's nice to hang out with single young women who are smiling at the future (that's a Bible reference I learned from Wendy).  I miss hanging out with single girls.  It's so fun to crush on actors/real people (which is confusingly melded in the person(s) of Jesse Eisenberg/Mark Zuckerberg) while also discussing how annoying it is to be told that marriage and childbirth are beautiful things when it is also beautiful to devote your life to God for a season or forever.  It's nice to be with people who are in my boat.

We worked at the hospital again today.  We're clearing out an area to be used for cooking, which involves shoveling and raking the sand to get out any rocks, then wheelbarrowing clean sand to pour over.  It's ridiculous work that should have been finished quickly, but we kept getting worn out every five seconds.  Still, it looks a lot better.

Nate and I had a lovely afternoon arguing, although Sally and Cheryl told us to stop several times.  And I got to have some quality time with a lot of the Woodland ladies, and also I feel like I've rebonded with Travis.  Cheryl and he and I were the only ones working at the hospital this afternoon (and mostly we just passed tools to Travis as he climbed ladders and did electrical work).  Kim had dropped me off, so we were a bit at an impasse when quitting time came.

Turns out the three of us rode on a moto.  Yeah, that's right!  Three grown adults crammed onto a moto, putting down the Fatick streets.  Every once in a while people on the sidewalks would die laughing at the crazy toubabs acting all Senegalese, and it was wonderful!  Cheryl is ballin'.  First time on a moto, and she did it big.  I'm so proud of her.

Also, I love Liz.  I wish she would move to Peoria.  I wish she would read my blog and feel guilty and move to Peoria.  Hey, Liz.  Are you reading this?  Move to Peoria!