
Our family went to a service for the catholic students. They went through their service in a very methodical way, and had a 15 minute window for me to share.
I spoke about Joseph finally confronting his brothers, telling them who he really was. And that because of his forgiveness, God's chosen people were saved.
I don't know if it was understood or how it was taken. All the students sat very rigidly and were quite formal.

Actually, the students really wanted to hear from Olivia, Grace, and Isaiah. Grace was the only one who wanted to say anything. She said a few things very quietly, but everyone came alive, almost like the ice was momentarily broken. They laughed and giggled when she spoke.
When I asked Isaiah to say "Jambo" to them, he shook his head and ran to me, burying his head in my lap. The students laughed again.

On the matatu (bus) ride home to our dorm, the conductor banged the side panel loudly to tell the driver to stop. One of the passengers exclaimed something, and all the passengers (except for us Americans) laughed.
When the matatu started up again, I asked what had happened.
The lady from the college told me, quietly, that the man had gone past his intended stop. She said he was looking at us and was distracted. She paused, then clarified, gracefully, because of how your skin looks different. Poor guy!
