This type of project either made people fast friends or made you sick of each other pretty quick. After all, we were usually together almost 24/7 except for sleeping and a few hours here and there. We ate meals together, travelled in the field together, and at the end of the day reconvened for a debriefing and dinner. Typically after a few days I found myself desperate for some alone time, no matter how much I liked the team. But so far I’d been eager for the times with the group. I wasn’t going to give a certain logistics coordinator all the credit either. Almost everyone so far had been awesome.

“Do we need to eat at this place again?” Sam’s voice got my positive thoughts from the last week on a decidedly different track as I took my seat next to Tsehay.

When I opened my mouth, I took a page from Elias’s book, whose entire approach to life seemed to be kill them with kindness. “This is the only place for miles and miles that serves non-Ethiopian food, and yesterday you complained about not wanting more injera.”

Sam pulled up a chair and slumped into it like the petulant asshole he was, scoffing at my words. “Whatever, man.”

He was such a jerk.

I turned my attention to the conversation happening on my right side and proceeded to ignore Sam, who was in the midst of asking his usual thousand questions to the server. Every meal required at least two bouts with an interpreter because he had to ask about every ingredient the food was made with, and had various specifications. I got that sometimes people had food allergies or special diets, but he didn’t have to be so fucking rude.

I was blessedly distracted by Tsehay, who brought her head closer to mine to ask a question. “How did it go this morning? Other than the clinic.” The when Sam acted like a jerk and almost got us in trouble with the town officials was implied.

I nodded as I took a drink from my Ambo/Coca. “It went well. I was impressed by the clinic staff—they are doing really great work with the families. I like that they’re doing some counseling with the mothers too.”

Tsehay smiled at my comment. “They do a nice job there, and it’s our biggest one in the program. They see almost five thousand families a month.”

I whistled at the impressive number. It was a huge setup, with nearly a few dozen workers.

Soon we were talking data, and when our food came everyone tucked in, hungry after a long morning in the field. I was so distracted enjoying my delicious lunch that I didn’t notice the situation happening at a table on the other side of the terrace—until I saw Elias push his chair back loudly to walk over there.