The count down begins

A quiet day which is nice every once and a while. To stay close to home where we are known and greeted warmly as friends and not stared at as oddities. (OK I have to say that just this moment I am experiencing a charming, uniquely Burundian moment. I hear coming down the street the unmistakable sound of Burundi drummers probably accompanying a wedding procession and sure enough as it passes the opening of the compound I see them in their red, green and white traditional dress, banging away in the back of a pick up truck as it speeds down the street).

Vanessa wrangled herself a trip up country to the dowry ceremony of Fiston who will be married next Saturday. I'll miss that wedding since I leave that very day to return home. It's very strange to think of my time here winding down. Pastor Elie invited John and I over to his house for lunch this afternoon and asked us if we have plans to come back. And I don't know how to answer. It's bizarre to think that I might not come back, I feel such a sense of investment in these people and the work they are doing. Plus I always want to know, what happens next? So for the moment I set aside practical thoughts about mustering the time and resources to return and simply believe that somehow, some day I will.

Elie and Marcelline have prepared a little surprise for us and when we arrive at their home they unveil a cake, a real, frosted and decorated with our names, cake which they must have ordered at a bakery days ago. Clearly they were still feeling the need to make up for not being able to find a real cake for my birthday. And having seen our disappointment in failing in our own efforts to provide cake for our 4th of July celebration they determined that cake is important to us, so cake we must have. It was quite delicious though I think that some of their family members found it too sweet for their taste. How people who drink Fanta every day could ever find anything too sweet is a mystery of the Burundian taste buds I've yet to solve.

We talked a bit about Barak Obama and Elie asked what I thought his chances were. Being a True Believer from his hometown I of course went into rhapsodies of hope. We also talked about the possibilities for Burundi's next election in 2 years. Elie believes that if things continue to improve Pierre Nkurunziza will remain the president for another term. His government is making efforts toward improving public health and education and Elie say that even if the FNL does walk away from negotiations- which they've been threatening for the last week or so- that they no longer have enough support or large enough numbers to have much impact on the president's standing.

Driving up the hill a bit to Elie's neighborhood it strikes me that there is little middle ground when it comes to housing. If you have any means at all, enough say to build a house, it seems to be just part of the plan, de rigeur that you build a high wall around it as well often topped with jags of broken bottle pushed into the cement. The intent is clearly for security but the side effect is also the creation of privacy. In Kamenge the walled house is the exception (and as likely to be topped with razor wire as glass) and privacy non-existent. All of life it seems happens outside on the patches of earth in front of and behind the houses. We see children getting baths or make shift showers poured from a cup. Hair is braided, laundry washed, meals cooked, a thousand romping children play their games.

I keep darting over to my email account to see if there's news from my friend Jennie who went into labor last night (my last night, her yesterday afternoon). And for the thousandth time since my arrival I bless the technology which has let me stay connected to friends at home.

And now Vanessa's back so I'll go eat dinner and hear her tales of up country.