Just one more blog inspired by traveling with Ema, lest you all think the other boys have disappeared. During our trip to Moshi, I had a chance to meet Ema’s maternal grandmother, the woman who raised him. We got off the bumpy dala dala and Ema went to go get her in the bean fields. When I met her she wore a faded skirt and headwrap that had once been brightly colored. Her hands and feet were caked with black dirt. She put down her hoe to hug me and thank me for being a mother to Ema to replace her daughter, taken by AIDS. It took all I could do to hold back tears which I knew would be so strange to her. She walked far ahead of us on the way to her house. We walked about a half mile, slogging through rich earthy mud, so unlike the sandy soil of Bagamoyo. Each house along the way was made from red brown earth and trees and everywhere there were mango, avocado, and coffee trees and 5 or 6 different kinds of banana trees.