A Dying Home (2)
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the first two vans departed, Essie and I went to follow them and found that our van’s back tire had sunk in the mud. After much frustration (not helped by sleep-deprivation), we got the help of two locals to eventually maneuver our van out.

The drive back down Mt. Fyffe road was jaw-dropping. Huge, meters-deep trenches zig-zagged across the road we had just sped up earlier that night. Alternately, uplift acted to create severe speed bumps. Neighboring farmers were already shoveling dirt into the ditches, guiding us off the road onto the grass to pass by. The ride took three times longer than normal. Despite being glasses-less, in the morning light, I could squint and see the devastation that had been nightmarish shadows hours before.

We pulled into the convent’s driveway, power poles leaning aga...

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