RIP Agnes
Rodrigue and I had finished our first day together training the Kammengo kids, and we were exhausted. The Sun had turned the tilted concrete court into a baking pan, and our feet and our heads had melted just a little throughout the course of the day. I'm sure the black Big Bangs shirts added somewhat to the heat. We hadn't thought far enough to even consider what we would be eating that night, which is not altogether surprising for us, as we seem to get caught up in the rush of every camp, no matter where we are. As we sat on the plastic chairs in the courtyard, a tall, black, short-haired woman walks in through a side door, strides over to where we're sitting, and announces that dinner is ready... some women seem so perfect for motherhood, and dear Agnes was a mother to all she encountered. Fresh avocado, pineapple, even sweet bananas, all were laid out for us. Like the doting mother she was, Agnes made sure we both had our full share, and continued to...