my friend, fatima

I had no real agenda when I went to see her on Tuesday. And maybe in some countries that would be considered 'inefficient' or 'wasting time.' But not here. One of the highest honors one can give in this generous and hospitable culture (where everyone has more time than money) is a personal visit.

And so I showed up at Fatima's doorstep Tuesday morning with nothing but a copy of our latest magazine, which featured a story about our work in her community and some beautiful photos of Fatima in front of her house---and some apples for us and her two boys to snack on. We talked about all kinds of things--the incredible amount of rain we have been getting lately and its effect on her community (all the roads are dirt and the majority have become small rivers in the last week), the fungus-like thing on her son's ear (they were headed to the clinic later this week to get it checked out), her patio garden (the compost for which was soaked by the rain and she will have to start the process again), her attempts to keep the peace with another group of leaders recently elected in the community, the merits of fruit beverages over soda, my trip to the States, the difference in the pace of life one finds in the two cultures,her older son's aversion to his shoes, and of course the magazine. She was excited to see her friend Rosa on the cover, but with typical self-depreciation, took one look at her photo and said, "que gordita".

Eventually it was time for me to go, and even though it was drizzling out and her kids were no doubt ready for lunch, she insisted on walking me out to a safe place to catch a cab (about a 20 minute walk from where she lives). Along the way her younger son entertained us with small playdough creations and jumping over puddles (which made his mom just a little nervous--"que no te caigas!').

And when we finally reached the calle pavimentada, we hugged, she thanked me for my visit, and I got into the cab.

And I thought, this is friendship.