Tears in the Darkness.

Last night Happy and I were alone in our home for the night. As I lay in my bed I was startled by sudden desperate cries drifting through the darkness. I quickly ran into Happy’s room and scooped the little tear stained girl up into my arms, rocking her and assuring her that she was safe and that it was only a dream (looks like I’m not the only one with nightmares here). Her little face buried into my chest as I carried her to my bed and let her crawl under the covers with me. I put on part of a Disney movie in hopes that it would replace any dark scary thoughts with light and giggles. I then put on some calming piano music in hopes that she would fall asleep…

Here I lay on my back with this precious child in my arms, her head nestled into my chest and one of her little hands wrapped tightly around my finger. I could feel the soft steady rise and fall of her breathing as her other hand searched for mine under the covers. Once she found it she held on tightly stroking my thumb with her tiny little fingers... 

This was the moment.

The moment when the tears came.

Silent. Steady. They slid down my face into the darkness.

My thoughts were simple, my emotion helpless as I realized this shouldn’t be me. I shouldn’t be the one holding this little girl in the middle of the night. Her hands shouldn’t be wrapped around mine, they should be wrapped around her mothers.

But Happy doesn’t have a mother…or a father…she has lost all of her family.

Happy is an orphan.

I have always known this, knew this months before coming here, knew it the day I arrived. And yet…

Sometimes we know something but it doesn’t truly become realized, it doesn’t truly become a reality until…a moment. A precious and powerful moment.

This was my moment. 

I knew Happy was an orphan...

I placed her back into her crib for the night and crawled back into my bed alone.  Here I longed for someone to scoop me up, wipe away my tears, hold my head to their chest and tell me that this was all just a bad dream…

But I knew it wasn't.   

So I let the tears come.

Today I...

Today I...

-Did Yoga on my porch
-Prayed
-Drank Tea
-Woke up Happy
-Made Happy tea
-Gave Happy a sticker for peeing in her little toilet
-Changed Happy 
-Made breakfast with Happy
-Did dishes
-Swept the house
-Did laundry outside while Happy played in the dirt
-Changed Happy 
-Danced with Happy
-Danced with Onesmo, Amy, and Happy
-Laughed with Mama Onesmo about all the dancing
-Made Lunch for Happy
-Gave Onesmo and Amy cookies and milk
-Did more dishes
-Changed another diaper
-Put Happy down for a nap
-Put in a Disney movie for Onesmo
-Read Velvet Elvis
-Played guitar
-Sat on my porch
-Sang
-Visited with Juma
-Played more guitar
-Woke up Happy
-Went on a walk with Happy and Onesmo
-Picked oranges
-Had a sword fight with Onesmo
-Beat Onesmo at a sword fight
-Made Happy and Onesmo dinner
-Played soccer with an orange in the house while cooking Happy and Onesmo dinner
-Did more dishes
-Welcomed the rest of my African family into my home
-Cut up water melon and made popcorn for my family
-Sat in front of the fire with my family eating watermelon and popcorn
-Showed Gabriel our dance videos from earlier that day
-Laughed with my family
-Said goodnight to my family
-Did more dishes
-Sat down
-Was encouraged by my friends at home
-Got goodnight kisses from a giggly Happy through my mosquito net
-Was thankful
-Was loved

Today has been...hard.

Right now I am sitting on my mosquito netted bed writing this blog while hyenas howl off in the distance and the beating of an African drum drifts through my house.

Today has been...hard.

So far this week we have already had to go into Arusha twice, take Happy to the doctors, and visit markets close by. And well...I was hit with a harsh realization. A lot of the Africans do not want me here. I am white. I am from America. And well...Some people here will never forgive me for that.

At one of the smaller markets closer to our house, Ksusha and I tried to buy some eggs (there was an entire crate of them sitting in front of our face) and the lady simply waved us away and said they weren't for sale. They weren't for sale...because we were white. Walking with Happy in town stirs mixed emotions as well.  While an American may sigh at the sight of two white girls carrying around a black orphan baby, an African may give us a dirty look letting us know that they don't "need" or "want" our help. It is amazing how easily the words "why don't you go back from where you came from, you don't belong here" can be communicated in just about any culture without the use of words at all (how often do we communicate, "You are welcome, you are loved, come and stay a while" without a language?). It has been made clear to me that the people still carry a lot of hurt and painful memories here.

Should this upset me? How should I feel about this? Is this the part where I pack up my bags say, "Ok fine, I will leave. Thanks for the hospitality, I'll go love on someone else.", or is this when i just love harder, love more, love deeper, and try to show these people that love transcends negative comments, hurtful looks, skin color, and painful memories? That love stays no matter what?

...

I don't know.

Today has been...hard.

A Deliciously Repulsive Breakfast.

It's amazing how a delicious morning breakfast of tea, whole milk, biscuits, and fresh mango can become repulsive in 0.2 seconds. The 0.2 seconds that it takes you to realize (once you've finished eating almost an entire mango) that you just ate worms. Little white squirming and very alive worms. I swear I can feel them crawling around my stomach. For some reason Ksusha finds this whole situation much more humorous than I do. Oh well, when in Africa.

A Trip In The Night.

It's official. Melarome and I are NOT friends (my malaria medication). I write this with heavy eye lids and fluttering anxiety inside my chest.

Last night I laid in bed for hours alternating between praying, thinking, and reading. Eventually I must have drifted off into some type of sleep (not sure if you can call it that since sleep is supposed to be a restful state) because I would toss and turn coming to from some sort of twisted dream.  This happens all night long, a dream like state filled with anxiety and sadness that leads to confusion when I suddenly realize I am awake staring into the darkness of my mosquito net wondering if I ever was asleep at all. I found myself longing to see the glow of morning light and to taste the comfort I know it will bring for the 3rd night in a row now.  In the middle of one of these seemingly endless cycles, Tangawezi (our dog) began barking. I became convinced that someone was trying to break into our house. "Ksusha" I whispered to the bunk below me, "Tangawezi is barking, I think someone is outside". Surprisingly she coherently responded assuring me that this was normal, that he was probably just barking at the moon, and that even if there was someone outside, that all the doors were locked and we were safe. While her argument made complete logical sense, I was adamantly convinced that she was wrong and had no idea what she was talking about.

My mind raced trying to keep up with my imagination (which was now in a full out sprint). I was absolutely convinced that as I lay frozen in my little top bunk, that someone had walked through our front door (obviously Ksusha must have thought she locked it but forgotten), and was currently stealing everything I owned. My computer was what filled me with the most anxiety (how was I going to keep in touch with everyone back home?). I was certain the thief already had it in his grasp as he searched through all my belongings in the other room. I could almost hear him rummaging through my medicine box (thanks to my "be prepared for anything" Harold of a father). "Great" I thought, "He's probably stealing my malaria medicine to sell because it's so flippin expensive!" (maybe that would be for the best come to think of it...) "I'm sure he's found my wallet by now and is taking all my money and my debit card..Great. Wait, where is my wallet anyway? Oh yes, in my back packing backpack...OH NO!!!" Now pure panic truly strikes, "That's where my chocolate is!!!" The thought of this midnight criminal eating my precious chocolate bars sends me into desperate hopelessness and a feeling of unavoidable defeat.

Somewhere in the midst of this ridiculous thought process my mind must have switched to it's dream like "sleep" state, because I am now alternating between trying to convince my brother not to murder someone, illegally making espresso (why making espresso is suddenly illegal and making normal crappy coffee is legal is beyond me, but then again why in the world is Zac trying to shoot someone?), and avoiding rapid gunfire by diving behind giant army made tortuous (teenage mutant ninja turtles on steroids perhaps? ...didn't see any nun chucks though...bummer. Come on Melarome!).

Although i write this now in a much more coherent state of mind (making espresso is obviously not illegal), I was just about 98% certain I was HIV positive this morning. In the fog of this realization (accompanied by a rapid heart beat I couldn't seem to calm down), I was clearly left with no other option but to open a 60% Ghirardelli dark chocolate bar (which surprisingly was untouched by last night's perpetrator...huh) and eat it while staring blankly off into the distance thinking of how I would now never be able to have children of my own, and that I could now never get married...

For those of you confused reading this, let me answer a few questions in case any clarification is needed:

-Did someone break into my house last night? No. 
 -Am I HIV positive? No.
-Is our government currently creating real life teenage mutant ninja turtles? Possibly.
-Am I seriously considering stopping my Malaria medication ASAP before I have a mental breakdown or do something completely ridiculous in the middle of the night? Yes. 

Town.

Today I went into town for the first time. My eyes were glued outside our window as I frantically tried to take in everything around me when suddenly "SWOOSH!" my heart just about stopped as our taxi zipped in between 2 cars as our driver maneuvered our car through the middle of the road. Let me stop for a moment. That's right, the middle of the road. As soon as my heart rate returns to a normal tempo my eyes go back to the ever difficult task of trying to take in all the sights around me. The culture, the people, the trees, mountains, buildings, um is that a goat on a leash? When suddenly my thought process is abruptly interrupted once again, "Bleeeeep!" as a piki piki (motorcycle) cuts in front of us with three people on it, none of which are wearing helmets (Harold would have had a heart attack right then and there, if he hadn't already when he discovered the people don't refridgerate their milk, eggs, or butter here).

As we moved closer and closer into Arusha, my mind felt more and more overwhelmed while the smile inside me grew bigger and bigger. I wish I could somehow put into words the textures, colors, smells, people, buildings, feelings, and sights I experienced through my little car window, but the truth is I can't. It was simply too much for me to take in all at once, too much for my mind to process. All I can say is that I have never been anywhere like this before and...I love it. :) Maybe next time we go in for groceries I won't be so frozen in time and space and I will be able to come to my senses long enough to take some pictures. Until then...let your imagination wonder...we don't use it enough. :)

Chickens and Chocolate.

As of right now I am writing by candle light. The power has been out all day, but Gabriel (he is literally our guardian angel) has come over and made a kubwa moto (big fire) that lights up our kidogo numbani (little home) and is currently warming my heart. today Ksusha and I took Happy for a walk. Africa is simply beautiful. There are children everywhere and I wanted to stop to play with them all. When we got back we heard Mama Numesmo and Gabriel calling us from the chicken coop. We have so many baby chickens! Ksusha and I made Gabriel run around and catch the baby chicks for us so we could hold them, we couldn't stop giggling.

When we walked into our house we found eggs on our counter and realized we had no idea how long they had been there for. We were so scared that we would crack them and there would be a baby chicken inside, so we tried to get Onesmo (Mamma Onesmo and Gabriel's little boy) to crack the egg...but he wouldn't. So I proposed a game so that no one would "kill" the chicken, if it indeed was a chicken at all. Outside our little home Ksusha, Happy (well she just kind of stood there), Onesmo, and I played catch with one of the eggs until someone accidentally dropped it. The suspense was building when Onesmo's little hands slipped followed by a "splat!" and three screams...we all crowded around and...Behold it was a normal egg yolk and all! We all fell into a fit of giggles once again.

I snuck inside and broke off some of the chocolate I brought with me to share with Onesmo and Happy. There we sat on our front steps while the sun silently slipped behind Mt Meru with two little squares of chocolate, breaking them into little pieces with huge smiles on our faces. I know I am a chocolate snob, but I can honestly say that was some of the best chocolate I have ever eaten.

When our squares of chocolate had disappeared, Ksusha and I prepared dinner for the kids by candle light as Onesmo sang in Swahili in between bites of mandarin oranges I would sneak him. I love it here. My soul is at peace and my heart is full with joy, thanks, and anticipation. I have been learning Swahili poley poley (slowly slowly), and have a little journal that I scribble new words in whenever I hear them. We will all be talking when I will hear a new word and suddenly spring across the house for my journal and pencil which is almost always followed by everyone laughing at me. Gabriel told me with a big smile that I will learn in 1 month instead of 4-5 months like everyone else. I'm praying that he is right. As for now I am about to go boil some water for tea, strap my head lamp on, and continue to try and teach myself guitar (dedicated? I think yes.) until the fire dissipates to burning embers and sleep clouds my mind...Usikumwema (Goodnight).

Things I didn't do today...

 I didn’t feed a starving child today, bring together a community, or bring medicine to a sick family. No, I didn’t come close to doing any of those things today. But tonight as the sun was beginning to lower itself behind the thickness of the trees, I found myself giggling uncontrollably with a little two year old who was trying to do yoga with me and found it to be just about the funniest thing she had ever seen. And well for today…that’s good enough for me. : )

And The Adventure Begins.

Shikamo from Tanzania! I apologize in advance if my words are hard to follow, I am currently rather jet lagged and my mind feels like it is a million places. I’ll do my best to give you a glimpse of my current situation however. Right now I am sitting on my back porch as I write, drinking tea and watching the sun fall behind Mount Meru. The sound of Veggie tales plays behind me while Ksusha and Happy watch an episode on her laptop, birds sing all around me, chickens from our coop cluck, cows moo from our neighbors, just down the road I hear children playing, and near by African music is blaring at some sort of celebration. Out of all the noises the children playing is what excites me the most. 

Last night I arrived at the airport, rather exhausted and confused as to what day and time it was, to be picked up by Ksusha and one of the German volunteers named Sara (the two German girls will be leaving in the next couple of weeks). As soon as we got in our taxi I realized that Tanzanian driving is all together different to American driving in the sense that the lines in the road mean just about nothing ha. The power was out when we got home so Ksusha boiled water and put it in a bucket for me to shower with.  Surprisingly enough it’s rather cold right now, so the warm water felt amazing after all of my traveling.

When I woke up this morning I had to remember where I was, I could hear Happy cooing in the crib right below me (we have a full house right now with the 2 German girls and a few friends visiting them, so for now I am sleeping in Ksusha and Happy’s room) as she tossed and turned. After eating breakfast I finally was able to spend some time with Happy. She is seriously the most precious little 2 year old girl on the face of the planet, my heart melted instantly.  She is the tiniest little thing with the biggest smile in the world. Her name is rather fitting. :) After breakfast I started to feel sick so laid down for a while. I am rather certain that the culprit is the malaria medication.  My stomach has been all sorts of crazy ever since I started taking it.  The girls here think I should just stop taking it, but then just last night I got like 5 mosquito bites so I’m not entirely sure what to do…Also I think my stomach is just adjusting to the food here. I’m going to try to stick it out a week and see if my body starts to acclimate to everything before making any big changes like stopping the medication.

Ksusha, Happy, and I just got back from a walk down the road. I was really excited to finally get a glimpse of the culture.  I quickly realized how much I need to learn Swayhili, and fast.  Everyone tried to talk to us but I had no clue what they were saying. As we rounded our first corner a whole herd of little goats ran past us with a little boy, approximately 9 years old, chasing after them with a stick.  Ksusha explained that many of the children herd the animals instead of going to school because their families can not afford it. The second corner we rounded brought an African woman balancing a huge bag of rice on her head as she walked, and the third brought a small cluster of children very excited about seeing two white girls.  They were very shy but had huge smiles spread across their faces.  I tried to communicate with them, but failed rather miserably so put out my hand for a high five. They just looked at me like I was a crazy white girl and started giggling. I had to show them what I meant, and then eventually a little boy stepped forward bravely, hit my hand with his, and retreated as quickly as possible. Children are the easiest to communicate with across language barriers. I’m hoping to walk down the road and try to play soccer with some of them later this week, they don’t use a normal soccer ball though, instead they make these little balls, about 1/3 the size of a soccer ball, out of trash bags.

        I have started to ask myself what I have gotten myself into, and the answer that I keep hearing is an adventure. So here’s to adventure and some much needed sleep.