Jesus offers hope: you see it plastered about, yet when hard times come, I’m told it’s back to the old ancestor worship.
I’ve met some lovely people: Jane, who always has a joke and story; Prity, who’s name describes her person and personality; Peter, a video-editor dating her; Harry & Joke, my Dutch hosts who are so warm and welcoming; “Jukes” who tells me he chases away ghosts and ancestral spirits with his hammer (I showed him a picture of Dad building our igloo home to pay back that yarn,) and little Anna who took my hand and pulled me to the table.
Yet the dangers one can’t see are spoken of and people do not leave their homes at night. And here, in the midst of a community-smothering village, I feel a little isolated within this electric-fenced compound. In this land of contrasts and fiercely national pride, first meets third world, progress leaves poverty, and it’s not all black and white.