We said goodbye to Baba who headed up to the stage to perform his DCM duties and we took our seats in the front row.
This woman received the first loan. I wish I had the chance to ask her what she was going to do with the money.
We had just settled into a nice nose-picking iPhone playing routine, when we heard Booker's name called out over the microphone. Mr. Sadat wanted Booker to come onstage... in front of lots of big-wigs and hundreds of villagers. So up he went.
Booker kept nervously lifting his shirt up, exposing his chest and belly. As his mother, I wanted to crawl under a rock and die.
But everything Booker does, Teichert must do also. So he wandered up to the stage and my embarrassment doubled... tripled even.
Eventually he settled onto Baba's lap, mostly out of sight thankfully.
The village was small enough that when they announced the name of the winner, someone would shout, "He's not here, pick another one!"
Normally you see the women carrying water or bread on their heads, not televisions!