We flew into the airport on a Sunday evening. Looking out the window of the plane, there were so few lights that it looked more like flying over North Kenai than a city of almost a million people. We walked down the stairs onto the runway and into warm smoky air. Upon entering the airport, we were met by a U.S. Embassy employee who led us into a separate room with leather couches while he took care of our paperwork. In the airport lobby, we were met by Portia, the Embassy nurse, and her husband John, the director of the Peace Corps in Rwanda, who gave us a ride to our new house. Our house has a seriously steep driveway, so luckily it never gets icy here. There is a security gate and high fencing and
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