It's very quiet. And very dark.

The drive to Project Mercy is indeed beautiful. City turns to countryside that turns into mountains. Not purple mountains majesty, but rather the gentle, green covered kind that remind me of the Ozarks. Well, except for the acacia and eucalyptus trees, wild donkeys, and lack of human presence. The luggage is piled onto the top of the ancient yellow bus, and we stop halfway to cover with a tarp as the rain moves in. The road turns from asphalt to mud and volcanic rock, and soon we are at the compound that is Project Mercy. A school, hospital, cafeteria, gardens, and housing -- it looks like a big summer camp. After a short tour, we head to our housing. Concrete floors, sparse rooms, toilets that we're only to flush when we really need to, and water for two hours a day. Apparently, the electricity is on the same schedule. Just as I finish drying my hair, the power goes off, and stays that way until morning. I don't believe there is much as quiet and dark as rural Africa when the juice is off. Just as well; I sleep the restless sleep of someone on anti-malarials. We work tomorrow; stay tuned.