One day off

The four of us sit in the gathering darkness at the shawarma place in town. The sky is still light in the west, and I get a seat at our outdoor table that faces that direction. The remaining light in the sky shines through the mosque's minaret, and there is a cement building closer to us, with two stories and rows of small square windows, glowing many different jewel tones: red, pink, blue, green.

I order a chocolate milkshake and the trainees and volunteer I am with order shawarma. The breeze is almost chilly when it is dark, and the smoke of cooking meat wafts up and over our table from inside.

We have come so far in this week in distance and visions of the future - if not in our Swahili capabilities, as much of my time has been spent in English conversation with other Americans. 

I'm rested and I'm ready for training to be over, now that I've caught a glimpse of my future home.