August 25th

Thursday August 25th, 1977
Limuru, Kenya
Tonight was the night for the mission banquet.  I fixed the green beans.  They were good except for being a bit soupy.  Ken was dressed like an Arab coffee vender and sat outside the banquet hall.  We made him a Muslim cap at 5:00pm.  We used an old pillow case to make it from.

Mom, like most great cooks was her own worst critic.  I don’t remember any complaints about the quality of the beans that night.

I am sure that I got to enjoy the leftovers from the banquet as payment for my part in the production.  I remember greeting the guests as they ascended the stairs to the dining room.  My role was to sound like a street vendor hawking his wares.  I was supposed to help set the mood for the evening.  I am sure that upon seeing a boy dressed in a flowing gown proclaiming “Kahawa!” (Swahili for coffee) at the top of his lungs with a pillow case on his head moods were deeply rooted for the evening.  I remember the Africans unmitigated glee at watching me make a fool of myself for 1-2 hours that evening.  Long into the evening they would mimic my plaintive cry and then break into gales of laughter.

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