After a series of zany misadventures (who knew that a receipt was not a ticket, that a ticket was not a boarding pass, and that askari/guards would challenge our anxious comings and goings?), we boarded at 6 PM for our 7 PM departure. Miracle of miracles, the train actually departed on time. We settled in to enjoy the ride -- and soon the dining car, where the starched white tablecloths and mismatched silver and stainless tableware provided an elegant counterpoint to the hot and rumpled passengers (just like us).
It is now a quiet evening in a quiet place. The calls to prayer from the mosques of Mombasa are somehow soothing. They remind me to pray, too. Even as I remember the faces that I so foolishly tried to forget in Maseno (and all along the Way), I am remembering again to breathe and to pray. Thank you, dear friends, for the reminders! I'll be homeward bound tomorrow -- by plane to Kisumu, then car to Maseno this time. And I will be ready, once again, to see the face of God, as well as the faces of pain, in Pamela and Susan. Please pray for us all at Maseno Mission Hospital?