As I sat down for dinner tonight, I looked at the back of my plate. It had writing on it. That was very usual, since most of the plates at Congolese homes are the hard plastic variety.
Therefore, this plate was very different. It was an old antique. The host was Mr. Joseph, Bulape Hospital's Administrator. He said the plate was given to him by a former missionary.
He had only one of the plate while the others at the table were the typical plastic ones. Somehow, I chose the seat closest to me versus walking around to the other side of the table.
Before serving up my food, I had to take a picture of it. What a strange thing to do? After dinner, I decided to take some more pictures. I told Mr. Joseph that I would see if his plate was worth anything of value.
On the way back to the Bulape Cultural Center after dinner, I ran into Mama Rose and Mama Sylvie again. I tried to explain in French that I had been to Mr. Joseph's house for dinner. Another day without helping them build the mud wall for their guest house.
from my HTC PocketPC!
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