end of the road

The road literally ends at the hospital -- this is one of those times I
wish I could show you a picture -- and about 100 yards from my door.
The amount of witty phrases this brings to mind seems to have no end,
but its primary impact (other than cutting the commute to the nearest
airport down to about 10 hours) is that my front yard essentially
becomes the bus stop, market, and main thoroughfare for the surrounding
towns. Every day there's a group of about 15-20 people hanging out
waiting for the bus to come, some of whom I've gotten to know a bit. It
makes the rural area seem less rural, as there's a fair amount of
traffic with the buses and trucks and vans picking up people or dropping
them off here at the end of the road.
I've been hanging out with some of these passers-through when I get a
chance, but finding out people's stories is a little more difficult than
I'd hoped given the language barrier -- it's hard to make small talk
through an interpreter, or even broken English. But I've been trying to
make sure I get out and do at least one authentic cultural event a week,
if not more. So I've been to weddings and funerals, eaten caterpillars,
visited a friend preaching at a local church (seeing them dance the
Bible and him up to the altar was one of the funnier things I've seen in
a church), and this week I went to a local soccer game that my neighbor
was playing in. Actually, that wasn't so much a cultural shock,
although a few things were a bit unusual -- having to slash the grass on
the field down before you can play, the dog running out in the middle of
the players, the fans rushing the field several times during the play of
the game to celebrate a point or argue about a call (the game was
delayed for 30 minutes while they argued about whether a goal counted
that went off the goalpost and barely crossed the line of the goal), and
yours truly as the 'big man' being entrusted with the prize money to
award at the end, all with a dramatic lightning-filled backdrop and the
wind and rain. It was the first time I have actually been cold in
Africa (the top of Kilimanjaro doesn't count). The home team (my
neighbor's team) won by the margin of the disputed goal, and as the
visiting official, I got to award the cash money, about $20. Perhaps
they will be able to purchase a real soccer ball with the winnings, I'm
not sure if they have a plan.
Culture shock is hitting with a bit of a vengeance, as I find myself
getting frustrated with things that I probably wouldn't have cared about
a few weeks ago. I'm still learning sensitivity as to what I should
work to change and what I should accept. I'm right on schedule with
what most books I've read seem to mention, and knowing that makes it a
bit easier and more manageable -- not just me being a miserable person,
but a normal reaction to a stressful situation. Keep praying for me for
that.