Finally & Forever by Robin Jones Gunn

that way. They come out after the rains to mate, and they make these crowds like this.”
    Katie had a feeling he meant “swarms” instead of “crowds,” but she knew what he was referring to. It surprised and humbled her that this man knew English so well. She would never be able to have a complex conversation with someone who spoke only French, German, or Swahili.
    “After the rains, we dig a small hole and beat the ground with sticks. And they come.” He opened his hand and let the tiny marvel go free.
    Katie was fascinated. “You beat the ground, and they come?”
    “Yes.”
    “Why do they do that?”
    “I don’t know.” He grinned, revealing several gaps where teeth once had been. “So we can eat them, I suppose.”
    Katie smiled back at him.
    “We get them together and …” He made a pounding motion by cupping one hand and using his fist to demonstrate the sort of mashing and grinding one would do with a mortar and pestle.
    “You grind them?” Katie asked.
    “Yes, yes. We grind them into something …” He rubbed his thumb and fingers together.
    “Like a flour? Or a paste?”
    “Yes, yes. Like that.”
    “And then what do you do with it?”
    “You can cook it and eat it.”
    Katie wanted to flippantly say, “You might cook it and eat, but you’ll never catch me doing that.” She knew she couldn’t say that. She needed to respect this man’s culture.
    “Shall we go to dinner?” he suggested.
    Somehow Katie wasn’t quite as hungry as she had felt a little while ago.
    “I am Bin.” The man took the first steps away from the flurry of termites and headed toward the dining hall.
    “Bin?”
Like a trash bin? What an odd name
.
    “Yes, Bin.”
    “Hi, Bin. I’m Katie. Where are you from?”
    “The Democratic Republic of the Congo.”
    Katie planned to spend more time studying a map of Africa so she could mentally envision where each country was. She knew that French was the common language in many West African countries in the same way that English was the main communication form in many East African countries. She had picked up that detail the other night around the dinner table when Eli’s dad explained which world power had the most influence on which parts of Africa during the colonization era.
    Venturing a fairly educated guess based on his speaking French, she asked, “And that is located in West Africa, right?”
    “Central Africa.”
    “What brings you here?” Katie asked.
    “I am receiving training at the conference for pastors.”
    “Oh, you’re a pastor. That’s wonderful.”
    “Yes, it is wonderful. I have been in prison only two times for preaching the gospel. Now I am able to move about and come here to attend this training. God has been very good to me. Very good.”
    Katie tried to take in what he had just said — in prison
only
two times — and still he said God had been good to him.
    They walked together silently for a bit. It was nice not to be walking in the rain. All around them the green grass and revived foliage seemed to show off how squeaky clean they were after the showers. Katie loved the fresh fragrance in the air. She felt honored to be with someone who took his role as a pastor so seriously that he would go to prison for his faith.
    How different he was from any pastor she had ever met. And not just because of his gourmet taste for flying termites.
    “What brings you here?” he asked.
    “God, pretty much.”
    He gave her a sideways glance, as if he didn’t understand her comment. Her wit didn’t seem to translate well.
    “What I mean is that I’m here because God opened up an opportunity for me to come and help out. I’ve only been here a few days. I came with a friend of mine, Eli Lorenzo. Do you know him? He grew up in Zambia.”
    “I don’t know him.”
    “I will be sure to introduce you.”
    They entered the dining hall, and the first thing Katie noticed was the abundance of African men wearing suits. Others were dressed in their