No pictures from this weekend. My camera was left on my bookshelf and so there's no photos of African kids, Ethiopian revivals, the snow on my car this morning, or anything else.
Caught up with Dan Friday night to hear about the great road trip out west. I live vicariously through the travels of others until I can make these adventures myself. Attempted to create art this weekend that ended up looking dismal. I'll get the hang of it sometime.
People I used to know are evidently all messed up now. I guess we all have an endless capacity for self-destruction, but it still breaks me up inside. In between moments of the truly amazing and sublime, I found myself getting full of despair about the state of things. I'm thankful for very good friends who are solid as anything and have much more life experience than me, who chill me out and put everything in perspective.
Burundi kids were good this week. We have another volunteer who's a little better at this whole keeping order in the classroom thing, which is really good. After the chaos of the last time, I wasn't sure what to expect, but I walk in the door and I'm mobbed with hugs from ten little kids who are all ready to play soccer in the hallway and show me what they're learning.
Went straight from there over to church to meet up with my roommate and hang out with the Ethiopians and witness my very first old-school revival service, Ethiopian style. Watched a woman get healed from blindness. Stayed for my very first meal of Ethiopian food, learned how to eat with injera instead of a fork and knife. Heard stories about Detroit that made me want to go back.
Helped with music on Sunday and got completely lost in the first song, as the key was something like D-Sharp and there isn't really a verse-chorus verse formation to slip into. Thankfully my amp wasn't turned up too loud and I found my groove on the second and third. That current obsession with Fela, Ethiopian jazz and African pop in general really paid off.