Before all hell broke loose with Jenna yesterday I had been helping Imachulet with the dishes. As we did the dishes we talked about her day and my day, and America, and Uganda. Then the news stopped on the radio, and music came on. She started to dance, and I demanded that she teach me. For the rest of the dishes she attempted to teach me to dance, while I taught her to pop-lock-and drop it. She said I was doing better, but I’m not so sure. The 22 year old who lives with us got a good laugh out of it. I may look silly now, but I will be able to dance like a Ugandan by the time I come home. Just watch me.
