I have three topics that I would like share with you today. None are connected in any sort of way, so here is just a list of the random happenings around Hewa (and in my head).
1. Most importantly, I checked on the baby and he is doing very well this morning. He is eating well, breathing easier and had a most of his color back. I jumped up and down, shouted, and clapped while a lot of people just stared at me. It was awkward, but I totally worth it.
2. A ten year old kid brought us another baby tree kangaroo. He shot the mom with his bow and arrow and ate it, then gave us the baby. The girls are thrilled to be getting a second chance at having such a cool pet, and so are their parents. I am mostly glad for the second chance at naming the creature. The first one was given to us by some people from another language group who said the name of the thing was "wattis" which to us sounded like, "Wallis" so that is what we named him. It wasn't until the next day that considering our last name, having a pet named Wallis might make people think we are racist, so I was completely paranoid about sharing his name with anyone from the deep south. I planned on explaining the whole thing and telling everyone it was spelled differently than the former governor of Alabama and avid proponent of segregation, but that seemed entirely too exhausting. I'd hoped that moving into a country and culture of an entirely different race and making myself a minority would squelch any racist rumors that would go around, but you never know. It turns out that it was just best for everyone that Wallis George ran away so we could get a new tree kangaroo named, Lewis. Hopefully, there are no offensive or derogatory people associated with that name. Anyway, I now feel like I am running a zoo. We have two cats, 11 new baby chicks, a baby tree kangaroo, and an agoraphobic guinea pig.
3. On Saturday we had three flights into this village. That's right! Three flights. And four people that do not normally live here came and went in one day. FOUR. I mean, it is like I am not even living in the middle of the jungle anymore. On one of those flights I received a microwave that we bought off another missionary family. A MICROWAVE!! Sure I can only use it on sunny days between the minutes of 11:30 and 12:00, but a MICROWAVE PEOPLE! It means no more cold leftovers for lunch just to save money on gas for our stove! Anyway, four visitors and a microwave! I bet this is what it feels like to live in New York City... if New York City had a lot of men wearing pants made entirely of leaves and women wearing shirts made of nothing.
Ok, now you are fully updated. You're welcome.