One week on!
Friday, Today we plan to visit a market where food produce is sold, some of which has been grown at a school. In the morning we slept in first because it is after all a (work) HOLIDAY. Pastor Israel came over at lunchtime with the message that we had been invited to the funeral of an old man whose grandchildren go to school at the project. So we changed our plan. We arrived at the funeral, where certainly more than 500 people were in attendance. One of the grandchildren talked about his granddad and his life, in the local language. The statistics are as follows: the man was born in 1890 and so was 122 years old. He had 31 children from 3 wives. An MP (Member of Parliament) was also present, who said in his speech that it was easier to get 10 MP’s than 10 white people (us, in other words). White folk are evidently that important. We had put some money in an envelope towards the costs. It wasn’t a sad service, but lots of speeches. Pffffffff…… After the service we had to stay to eat, of course (local food not our favourite). And then off to the market. We were the first white people who had ever been there, and we were quickly surrounded by a crowd of a hundred-odd people everywhere we went. Every now and then, older folk chased the children away from us. With loud shouts and screams they flew off in all directions whenever one of the grown-ups set after them with a stick. We bought some chickens and made a bid on three goats. That last purchase didn’t appear to go ahead, although the seller regretted it afterwards and followed Pastor Israel to agree to our price after all. We went home feeling very pleased with ourselves.
Saturday
Today we went to buy clothes: dresses for the ladies, and the gentlemen were measured up for suits. This took quite some time, of course, and Nathalie will help us out and keep an eye on developments for us over the coming days. After having a bite to eat we did some shopping and let Pastor Israel give the Toyota an oil change. Contented but tired after the drive (which gave the Walibi rollercoasters a run for their money), we arrived back home again.
Martinovic, G priligy en france
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