Erika and I go down to the village behind the clinic about three times a week, to have language lessons with our laundry lady, Rose. After our lesson Monday I asked her son Tony to help me get a picture of the tiny baby goat. (Yes, he's named after Tony Curto -- he has a little brother, called Baby Bob even though he's five years old, who's named after missionary Bob Wright)

 Mom, this baby goat picture is for you. It's only a couple days old. SO CUTE.

 This is a picture of our (messy) banda. I'll try to get a better picture soon, but at least this gives you an idea.

 This is the church... nice view, huh? :)

 This is the Wright's dog, Herman. He insists on accompanying Erika and I whenever we go down to the clinic. He's usually fine, although a couple weeks ago he got into a fight with one of the nasty clinic dogs and came home with a huge bloody gash on his neck. Poor Herman.
The Karamojong pronounce his name "Chairman." They call the other dog, Jackal, "Chuckles."

James and Stacey. Way too cute. This much adorableness should be illegal. It helps that on this 80+ degree day their concerned caregivers put them in long pants and that amazing hat. It's chilly here in Karamoja. Today I saw so many guys in puffy down parkas.

In other news, while shopping, they had GARLIC SCENTED SHAMPOO.
There are no words.