It's a small, small, small, small, small world. Over the weekend I met Patricia, who's from Kenya. Long story short, it turns out that not only is Patricia from Kenya, she's from western Kenya, from a village near Kakamega. I said, "Um, I stayed in Eregi" and Patricia screamed. Yep. Here in the eastern Congo I've just met someone from the random little village we stayed in for the first week of our study abroad program in Kenya in 1998. Here is a photo of the house I lived in in Eregi. It's not exactly the kind of place you'd just stumble onto while traipsing about the countryside. We talked about the church there (her church, the place where I attended the first Catholic mass I'd ever heard, in Kiluhya), the dispensary medical center, and the girls' primary school we visited. We know it's the same primary school because we talked about the uniforms, and Patricia solved the lingering mystery of why some of the uniforms were solid green and some had green checks (something to do with the difference between day students and boarding students). Needless to say, we've become fast friends.What are the odds? For those of you not familiar with the intricacies of village life in western Kenya, the chances of meeting someone from Eregi anywhere else in the world are approximately the same as meeting someone whose friends from high school were exchange students in Abilene and Lubbock. Except that happened too. What are the chances? Sure enough, met this guy Roger, from Spain, at a meeting on Friday and he says, "Oh, I know some towns in Texas." Too bizarre. This was all topped off Sunday afternoon on the way back down from the mountain when we were stuck behind a moto passenger wearing an Aikman jersey. The world is too small.