So it goes...

This morning work has been murder. It would’ve been alright if I had food to eat at 10 or 11. Normally I always have a bowl of peanuts on my desk or a bag of chips. Jens Schierbecker, the manager of our Community Development team, always waltzes in my office around 11:15 each morning asking for the “snack of the day?”. Just recently I’ve had to tell him there is none. I have to stop snacking. I’m not satisfied by this habit of mine. It runs in my family though. I laugh. I am aware that this trait isn’t an odd one. It’s actually quite common among the human race. But the last thing I want to do is have an office job where I eat all the time. It’s really easy to do that. I so look forward to food. My body sways back and forth, in dance when I make my way to the dining room. The morning is the worst. I count down the minutes until 11:45. Steven comes by around that time and picks me up. Today I was a bit anxious and grabbed the phone to ring his office when I heard behind me, “You ready?”. I slammed down the phone. Oh I amuse myself. Lunch was quite good today though. Macaroni and cheese - it has no equal.

Lunch conversation consisted of our anxiety and depression in the 5th season of 24 going on with out us, the new liberian children being adopted by our executive directed, Warrie Blackburn and her husband Brian, and Marilyn Riechert landing safely in New York and visiting the two high points; the Statue of Liberty and Startbucks. She sent photos of each.

On Sunday afternoons Corinna and I walked down the gangway and into town for about an hour to visit our two friends, Koolah and Blessing. Corinna met these girls last March, when the Anastasis had been here before. Koolah is 17 and Blessing is her niece. She’s 4 years old. We walked the dirt road to the home where Koolah and Blessing live. Every time they see us coming, Koolah will open the door as little Blessing pushes her way out. I’ll kneel down, a smile consumes me, and let Blessing run into me. She’s in my arms and Koolah, not far behind. Koolah offers few words but her eyes light up when she sees us. I know it sounds cliché but they do. She welcomes Corinna and I each time with open arms and this smile that’s so obvisouly displaying gratitude and love. She loves. Even if it not be in many words, I see it in her.

Corinna and I took the girls to the ship on Thursday evening. They had dinner with us and later we attended, together, the Community Meeting. When the offering was taking place, they asked all African crew to come up front and announced we were going to do offering African style tonight. When you go to church in West Africa, the offering plate isn’t just passed around. They’re set upfront, near where the preacher stands and the congregation dances their way to plates. This Thursday evening the plates were set on the floor and as the African Crew began their song and dance, the rest of us, non-africans, made our way towards the front. All I remember was how excited I was to have Blessing in my arms. Immediately, as the music started, her head began moving back and forth. Then came her shoulders. Then her waste moved (exactly in synce with the music). This girl had it going on. She was all of 4 years old and this music, this rhythm, was in her bones. I smiled down at her as I stepped away from my chair, following Blessing’s lead, and made my way to the front.