20 THE CEDARVILLE REVIEW could have cried. “Welcome to Senegal!” Jill said, wrapping me in a hug. We collected our bags, and Jill led us through the gate, across the yard, and into the house. She handed us each a cold bottle of water from the fridge and directed us to sit on the couches in the living room. As I sank into the faux-leather cushions, the weight of arriving on the other side of the world settled over me. I could feel panic bubbling in my chest— What was I thinking, coming on this trip!? It’s so hot and I’m so overwhelmed and I’m exhausted and I don’t even speak French! And it’s just so stinking hot! As if reading my thoughts, Jill grabbed a remote from the coffee table and turned on the A/C unit overhead. Delightfully cool air drifted over us weary travelers, and for a second, my fears diminished. “Your rooms all have A/C units, too,” she said with a knowing smile. “Just make sure you turn them off when you leave. We’ve only got a limited amount of electricity available.” That night, as I lay beneath my mosquito net, I thanked God for air conditioning for the first time in my life. As I prayed, the whir of the air conditioner overhead suddenly went silent, and the lights flicked off. Within minutes, the air in my room took on a damp, oppressive heat that made my thin, cotton top sheet feel like a woolen blanket. I heard Jill moving about in the
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