<![CDATA[What time?]]>Last night I was feeling cozy in my bed with a book, and I decided to have a glass of local wine. Gouder, it’s called. Sometimes it can be almost pleasant, and sometimes it’s sort of like a purple acid. Not the hallucinating kind. The kind that makes you wake up at 1 in the morning with a burning stomach ache and a strong desire to take it all back.

I laid there awhile listening to the chants of the local mosque. 2 a.m… 3 a.m… it’s still going.  Who is praying right now?

I put in my earplugs, which only slightly muffles the sound. At some point I fall back asleep, and wake up again at 8. The mosque is still going. Something in me today does not feel like getting up. Two years feels like an eternity.

In a few days I’ll be leaving to Addis for our mid-service conference. Our group of health volunteers are getting together to reflect on the year of service already behind us. All of the training, teaching, traveling, holidays… We’ve been here for over a year now.

Two years will be over so fast.

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