Dinner at the Mabuse’s tableThe hand over in the parking lot of the Choppies grocery that sits on the edge of Gaborone, Botswana’s capital city, is complete. My possessions and I leave the Mothers’ Union officers, with whom I’ve spent the past week, and join five representatives of the Anglican Women’s Fellowship. As we drive toward the center of Gaborone and the home of Cyril and Magdeline Mabuse, I make small talk with my fellow backseat passengers. It’s 8 o’clock when we arrive at our destination and the evening air has turned cold, reminding me that August in the Southern Hemisphere is indeed a winter month. Cyril, who’s just returned from a tiring trip to South Africa, welcomes me with graciousness and warmth, and then excuses himself for the evening. After depositing my suitcase in the guest bedroom, I join Magdeline, a long-time AWF member, at a table set for two. We clasp hands, offering thanks for the food we’re about to receive; Magdeline also says a prayer of gratitude for my safe journey from the Kalahari Desert town of Tsabong. Over a dinner of roasted chicken, potato salad and vegetables we talk about the events of the prior week and the week to come. After we wash and dry the dishes, and say our good-nights, I take a shower to rinse off the dust of the road. By 10 p.m. I’m in bed and the last thought before falling asleep is, “things are about to get even busier.”