Sleepover

"Today is a gude day because our friends are coming to our homes," said Fanke in broken English. They told us it was the first time any mzungus (white people) had stayed over night in the dorms at the TCRC. We ate ugali as the sun set and fellowshipped into the night. The big dipper hung upside down above our heads as we sang Swahili praise songs and danced around a humble fire. We made hot dogs and performed a cliche (but good) skit with candles about being a light for Jesus. African boys giggled invisibly as we all scurried off to the dorm, about 45 minutes past curfew. We all disappeared into our respective rooms, six in each--seven tonight, as I lay my mattress on the floor. The lantern-lit conversation that pervaded our room started with "R-nall Sorts negga," and progressed with them teaching me words in the tribal language. "Telehoma Gosha!" (You are welcome!)