I did a ton of laundry yesterday only to have a huge storm come in last night. When it rains that hard you can't really sleep because besides it sounding like there is chainsaw next to your ear, it pretty much vibrates the house. In the morning I went and assessed the damage, and found my clothes all over the yard so I hastily rewashed them before heading off to school which was a miserably muddy walk on the flooded road. Although that was a little bit unpleasant, it was quite typical, and those are the kinds of moments that just come with the territory and fade into the week.
The one moment of the week that stands out in my mind is the mass we had Thursday morning at St. Andrew's. It was a beautiful site, and just so much fun to be at. The kids packed the small church to the brim, and then they filled all the remaining space with jubilant singing, clapping, and dancing. As I half participated, half observed, I was overcome with peace and reflection. It was that gorgeous African morning when I finally felt the real beauty of this place, the spirit, and I took a piece of it for myself. I could have sat there all day in complete euphoria as I was serenaded with the African music through the voices of these children. I love the African hymns, and the boys that play the drums are so good, which in my eyes makes up a little bit for them being the most troublesome group in my class.
It seems like I really prefer hanging out with the kids over here. When it is break or lunch, I just stay in the classroom, and a group of us will hang out in there. Also, I again spent my evenings playing with the boarding students at Holy Cross this week which is just next to where I live. Even though these kids constantly ask me to take them to America and I refuse, I will without a doubt bring a big part of them home with me.