Going out with di Utes

We'd planned the day and time and were only
hour or two late. The youths were waiting patiently
as only African Utes can wait patiently, looking
down from the upstairs balcony of the old building,
standing on one leg, the boys not the building.

We gathered in the chapel and started planning how
we were going to tackle all the sinners. Mainly I had to send Joseph to get the cold drinks. Sister Neves was asking Idrissa if he'd ever played Banjo Tui. He hadn't but she explained her strategy.  







Joseph or "Joe", as we affectionately, and if I
might modestly say so, quite creatively call the little feller, asked, "what?" I thought seriously about slapping the little sweetheart right there in the chapel but thought better of the idea.






                                                                                   We sang a little hymn, said a humble
prayer to begin our day and then
I suggested that we put on our hat and
pull our trousers up around our chest
bones with the exception of Sister Neves
and get on the road. We did.

Once again Samuel or "Sam", as we affectionately,
and if I might say so, creatively call him once more
took charge of Sister Neves and made sure she
didn't fall or get lost or swept off her feet. Once I
heard her say, "I almost got swept of my feet", so I
know it was a concern of hers. She also said, "Oh youuu" once.

I'll do a little series of photos to show our walk
through the streets of Kissie Town.

Are you sure the street is that rough, Mom? Wait, where are you going?

Would you please just stay with the
group from now on? Something is lost
when you go off on your own like
that?

After we spent the afternoon visiting Mom
thought she'd like some Mexican food so we
stopped by the Amigo's cafe to some good
old African hamburgers and chicken and a
little something to drink.

For her hamburger Mom found a piece of chicken, she thinks, spagetti, beans, and a little ketchup inside a big old bun, yum.

I wisely chose a piece of spicy chicken and politely
ate around the bone with a fork while my Utes
looked on in amazement. I thought they were
amazed at how polite I was and well mannered but they were simply amazed at how stupid I was for picking around the good bone.

Sam, as I affectionately call Samuel Kanu, asked
reasonably if I'd be messing around any more with
 the bone.

I assured him that I were purty well done with it and handed the thing over to him with a grin.

My good little old twenty two year old friend
Samuel, proceeded to eat all of that big double jointed chicken thigh bone clear down to the nubbins until all that was left was nothing but
a little grease when it had earlier resided.

What a day!

I'm thinking to myself, "what a perfect end
to a perfect day. I can go to bed happy tonight."

My Utes all gathered around me, Sister Neves
and I, the only white people in the
center of the whole east side of Freetown, and
I just watched Sam eat an entire quarter of a
chicken, bones and all.

As we went home to the other side of the city, the old West side I took a little snap of this scene looking  across the Atlantic ocean and a thousand miles inland where you just finished a little lunch at Wendy's a few minutes ago.

I'm sorry you couldn't be here in this little bit of perfection. We'd love to be able to show you around sometime but I'd have to show you the door after three or four days.

We've got too much to do.

Elder and Sister Neves