A true celebration

During the course of each week, we spend a good amount of time with our drivers. There are two in particular -- Alfred and Bill -- who we see most regularly, because they staff the day and night shifts for our jeep. They have already earned a special place in our hearts -- they're the people that navigate the city for us, carry us around at night, and the ones we trust to tell us if the area we're going to is particularly safe.

Last week we learned that Bill's father had passed away. He mentioned that the wake would be on Friday night, and a group of us decided to go. We were told to arrive around 6:30 or 7, and we got there close to 7:30. We were all dressed pretty conservatively, and were a little unsure of what the experience would be like. As we pulled up to the house, we saw people milling around outside, and heard music playing. We thought that we must be in the wrong place, but it turned that the wake wasn't going to start for a couple of hours.

So we headed back down the dirt road and into Monrovia. We all changed into more casual clothes and grabbed dinner. We made our way outside of the city once again, and when we arrived at 10:30, there was a party going on.

Bill was thrilled to see us, and introduced us to his sisters and brothers. The front yard was full of people, at least 75 I think. There were a few guys playing DJ, and nearly everyone was on the dance floor. We jumped right in, and didn't stop dancing for 2 1/2 hours. The majority of time I had five girls in my dance circle, the youngest was 6 and the oldest was 11. Let me tell you, they knew every word to every song that was played, and the youngest had moves that I've never dared try.

I had a blast dancing with these girls. They had a real presence and a pure joy about them. They were still young enough to be unselfconscious and were very affectionate at times. And let me tell you one more time, they were dancing machines.

When it was time to go, Bill got on the microphone explaining that we had to leave because we have a curfew. His family was going to keep at it for another few hours. We got some applause, and one of his sisters shouted out that we did well on the dance floor. They thanked us endlessly for coming, and we thanked them right back. Bill's family welcomed us into their home and their celebration of his father's life. I think each of us drove away feeling grateful and peaceful, and that we had helped in some small way to honor Bill's father's memory.