We took part in the Friday ritual last night. Though it is a dinner and it takes place in a restaurant, the food is only part of the ritual. We take up the largest table in the corner under a shelf with a model train and next to the sign advertising "Tezerra", one of the few hints that Deegs serves Mexican food. Smoke sneaks its way around the corner, but goes unnoticed until we go out into the misty chill after filling up on fish, french fries, and rye bread. The server, whom most people at the table know by first name, gets our drink orders hurries back to the kitchen. Last night we were 6 adults and two children. The children spoke as if we were on the sidewalk outside, not sitting right next to them. This ritual, rooted in the Catholic practice of abstaining from meat of Fridays, is repeated in nearly every restaurant in Wisconsin. Our crowd of Moravians and Lutherans fit right in, and has, for as long as I can remember.

At some point we got on the topic of just what I was doing in Asia and when were you there again? The boys being sedated mildly by then with french fries and katchup, I was able to describe some of the courses I took on Term in Asia and how I ended up going back to Thailand to teach. My parents told of their 41 hour flight to visit me when I was teaching, and the kind attentiveness of their flight attendants. The exchange rate was favorable to my U.S. visitors and my parents treated 6 of my co-volunteers to dinner, all for about $40, what we were making in 2 weeks! I said that I'd lived through another economic downturn in 1997 -- difference being that I could leave that recession whenever I wanted to.

Tonight we watched a movie about a group of students and their teacher who together crossed boundaries others thought were impossible to cross. And the thing that brought them all together, at least initially? Writing every day, about their lives, honestly.