I moved to the hospital and like my new room as well as the old one. I am debating on whether to call it St. Somewhere or St. Elsewhere (feel free to vote, i probably wont decide until I get back to Bham). This is a 180 degree change from the International House as I am now living with a bunch of African nuns and an Austrian nurse named Christina who is about my age. She is a good nurse.
Anyway, these nuns know how to party, and I think they are all really cute. Too bad they are nuns. I was pretty arrogant about my ownership of the Fortress of Solitude so maybe it is poetic justice that I am now in a convent. WHatevuh! I like it here. There is also a Moravian church down the street and I suspect that this Sunday my heart will be "strangely warmed" (to my friends schooled in methodism forgive me if this is out of context...I get this and aldersgate confused...or are they the same thing? Sijui-swahili for I don't know).
I walked outside my first night at St. Something. My room is behind the hospital. I looked at all of the homemade bricks for the addition to the building that were drying in rows outside and it reminded me of a place not too far from here not too long ago. I then looked up into the cloudless African night and forgot everything I was thinking about. The hazy glow of the milky way and an infinite number of stars stretched out before me...I quickly focused on the Southern Cross, as I do every chance I get, and thought "O Lord our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth." And I knew that I had made a good move.
-Also, earlier that day a bird pooped on my hat while I was wearing it. That is the 2nd time this year that has happened and I think Pepe Loco is behind it. And I am very thankful for my hat because it obviously loves and protects me.
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