Lost in translation...or lack thereof

Quick update:
Thanksgiving - Nate left for Addis Ababa, Ethiopia on the Sunday before Thanksgiving for an EMM conference. It was a blessing for me to be able to fly out to join him for the Wednesday through Monday before returning to Nairobi to teach. Nate will return tomorrow night.

Our second Thanksgiving in Kenya felt even less like Thanksgiving than last year, but in many ways that's not a bad thing. We had a traditional Thanksgiving meal with Jim and Anna Ralph, their son Zach (Current EMM reps in Ethiopia), and Richard and Jewel Showalter who were there to speak at the conference.

This Thanksgiving also marked 6 years of being cancer-free for me! What a great time of year to celebrate that kind of an anniversary.

Baby - 27 weeks now, and all is still going well. I've been blessed with no morning sickness, and even now I continue to teach and feel no lack of energy.

Now, for a short story.

[Background: soon after dark, the Kenyan police set up what they call checkpoints at certain places around the city. These checkpoints consist of two spike strips on the road, a few signs, and policemen with flashlights (sometimes they also have guns slung over their shoulders. I have yet to figure out the exact purpose of these police checkpoints. They stand along the side of the road, and shine/wave their flashlights at you if they want you to pull over. Most of the time I see them only pulling over large trucks and matatus (mini-buses. And it's not always clear as to whether they are flagging you down, or just moving the flashlight. Sometimes they just check the insurance/registration sticker, sometimes your license, sometimes they seem to only be looking for a bribe, but most of the time you can just drive past and everything is just fine, even if it does seem as though they wanted you to stop. The police are all on foot, so it's not like they could forcefully pull you over anyway.]

I was driving home from our small group tonight around 8:30 (not so late, but dark), when I came to the police checkpoint. The cars have to go slowly around the spike strips, especially because it narrows the road to one lane, so I waited in line to pass through. As I got close, the policeman on the side waved his flashlight at me. At least, I thought it was at me. I knew I could keep going and nothing would happen, but my conscience and upbringing I suppose wouldn't let me keep going. Plus, every time I pull over, I think that perhaps THIS time I will finally understand the purpose.

I slowly pulled off to the side of the road, and waited for a little. No one seemed to be approaching my car and I thought I had made a mistake when the police with a gun slung over his shoulder came sauntering slowly beside my car to the window.
"Hello," I said.
"Are you ok?" asked Policeman.
"Uh...yes. I am ok."
"You are ok?"
"Yeah, I thought you had flashed me to pull over."
"Yes I did flash you. But you are fine?"
"Yes."
"Like I am fine."
"Sure."
"Ok, proceed."

Kenyans may use English, but many times I think we are speaking a different language.