In music class today the different teams started making up their own team dances for a competition on Friday. Since I’m not precisely talented in the dance department, they designated me temporary camp photographer - much to my delight! I got to watch the children make and fly simple kites, play a game of human tug-of-war that usually ended with everyone falling over, giggling, and all sorts of other things. I loved to simply wander about, camera in hand, and see the brilliant grins on the faces of the children. Oh, my God, how You have blessed me.
There is one child here in particular who has captured my heart. His name is Karim - I would guess him to be around 12, although I really don’t know - and he makes me laugh. He is extremely outgoing, hilariously dramatic, completely uninhibited - and he took it upon himself to escort me nearly everywhere today. His English is broken - though, I must admit, it’s much better than my Kinyarwandan! - but then again we didn’t really need to talk much. One example: As my self-appointed escort, it was Karim’s solemn duty to take me to wash my hands before lunch. He did this very seriously, grabbing my hands and leading me to the dribbling pump with its soapy bucket of water. He then pushed my hands into the bucket, scrubbing ferociously - and the whole while he was most adamantly trying to tell me something that I did not understand at all. Well, instead of going for a translator or asking him to repeat his words in English, I simply took my hands out of the water and splashed him. You should have seen the look he gave me! His eyes got really wide on his now open-mouthed face, he stuttered for a few seconds, then declared quite distinctly, “You are crazy!” Then he ran away, laughing. It was hilarious.
After our much-enjoyed day at the orphanage, we walked down the road back to our hotel. On the way we heard the oft-repeated phrase, “Mzungu! Mzungu!” It means, “White person! White person!” - and it might as well be our names here. Everyone - most especially the children - yell it out to us. But one boy was, well, you could say inspired. He began with the typical “Mzungu! Mzungu!” and when he was satisfied that he had our full attention, he held up by the tail his very unique surprise. It was a rat. A very large, very dead rat. Oh, and how proud he was of it - that and our horrified faces! While we all gasped and stared, he started chattering off something in his language. Couldn’t tell you if he was trying to sell the poor carcass to us or if he was explaining exactly how he’d kill it. But his completely incomprehensible speech soon dissolved into a hysterical fit of laughter - and that’s how we left him - doubled over from giggling, his dead little prize still proudly grasped by the tail.
Safely back at our hotel, we made the desperate decision to venture out one more time on the offer of coffee. Better-than-Starbucks coffee, said Alex, one of our rather Americanized translators (he is currently attending college in the States). So, Chelsea, Lindsay, Charity, Alex, and I bravely trekked downtown and had ourselves some absolutely delicious, very-Western-tasting frappuchinos. After dinner on the hotel balcony, we sat around with Abraham and Barnett, discussing Western and African cultures. And Amy taught us a table clap. I enjoy this group of people You’ve put me with here, Lord - as if Africa itself was not enough! You pour down Your blessings on me. Open me up that I might pour as generously into the lives of others. Amen.
Human tug-of-war.
The children and the kites.
Abraham with his ever-present, necessary? ipod headphones. It's not just an American teenager thing.
Karim.
