We walked back the way we came, only to find that Pastor Peter's truck had a flat tire. And, no spare. Not a great place for a flat. We walked up the hill to where Peter's parents live and got cell phone reception there. Peter called Professor Flomo and told them to come for the tire. They came and got the tire, drove to a town to get it repaired and then drive back to us. This may sound simple but it took hours. God was merciful. We had a good time relaxing after a busy day and just being together. No one complained, not even the pampered Americans. I learned more about farm life in Liberia and realized how much at home I feel at Kpeletayama, much more than in Monrovia. Now, I call myself "the girl from the small village". I used to just think I was the girl from a small town.
Also, very important. The women of the village gave me a Kpele name. I am called Younger (pronounced: youn ga, actually it's really hard to explain the right way to say it, but that's close). Everyone says it's a good name. Now, I am considered part of the village.
We arrived home late and very tired. However, we laughed and joked all the way home. It was much bumpier on the drive home b/c it is so much harder to see the pot holes, which gave me great appreciation for how smooth our drive up was. Anyway, I haven't laughed so much for a long time. My sides hurt. Our team has wonderful humor and friendship. We are family.
Even with some trouble, everyone agreed it was a good, good day. A beautiful day.
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