Lucy was a young, bubbly, tall and sufficiently built Kenyan woman.

She walked tall, with her chest puffed out, shoulders back and her head pulled back even further, somehow oozing a cool nonchalance, even with such a rigid physical stance.

If she had something to say, she said it and she said it loudly, often with a laugh; an infectious laugh, but with a twist of an evil cackle under the surface.  Sometimes it was hard to tell whether her laugh was at us or with us.  Continue reading Part 11 – Not the Western Way →