The crickets are chirping in Kinyarwanda; the moon hangs kaddy wompus; the radio is blaring in some unrecognizable language; a foreign bug is creeping across my computer screen; the night is very quiet such that any noise carries. I suppose if I breathe heavy, the neighbors might hear–nah. They’d have to hear me over the radio next door. Everyone’s up around 5 a.m., so 8:30 feels like 10:30 p.m., so most the team has headed to bed . . . More