As I sit here to write, I am surrounded by small children –some nephews, a little orphaned girl, and a great-nephew, plus some of my own children coming and going. I came to the church building to write, because the internet reception is better, the heat is not as intense, and I thought I would be alone – if I could speak the language I might ask them to leave for a little while, but I think that choosing love, and bearing the noise of all the “emotokars” (cars made of pieces of wood –that don’t resemble cars, but with an imagination and some good sound effects, they become perfect cars!)…in the time that it took to write that, they realized that I wasn’t looking at pictures or doing anything interesting, so they took their cars outside –but left a baby behind to play on the dirt floor. Actually, the floor is not dirt, it is made of cow dung. Here is Benjamin’s description of the [making of the] cow-dung floor: “I watched one of my cousins make a cow-poop-floor. First, they coll...