You wear sandals in the snow & a smile that won't wash away.

What has been happening the past couple days. 

Professor and I started the children’s program this week.  It started out difficult because of the language barrier... however, I’m pretty impressed with what I have picked up the past couple of days.  


Day 1, Monday.... Monday, monday....

          The kids were very shy at first, because Professor and I are both from different countries.  However, once we started the activities, it didn’t take them very long to be crawling all over me and nesting in my weave on my head.  This day was one of the most memorable days of my life I think.  All of the children attending our program are foster children, except for one.  Granted, their foster mothers love them like they are their own.... but they know and understand that they are foster kids for a reason.  Before the day was half over, the kids were all making me cards, saying they want to come with me after work and that they love me.  It was overwhelming.  I have a heart time with affection (as we noted before with the hugging jamboree) and especially with the words “I love you.”  These kids were telling me how much they love me even though English language was not present, and they meant it.... and you could tell.  There was one little girl that stood out the most to me.  Her name is Nolwethu.  She is a beautiful... beautiful girl.  With all of her heart and soul.  She rode to our program with one of the ladies that works here and her child (who is the only non-foster child attending our program).  She was the only child that would look out for all the other kids, even when they were pushing for my attention.  And by pushing, I mean shoving, plowing and trampling each other over.  She’d pick the little ones back up, and made sure everyone was ok.  I shared my crackers for lunch with her, and she shared her crackers with all of the other kids. She was the most selfless and beautiful young lady I have ever met.  She is also only 9 years old.  At the end of the day, all of the other kids ran home with their older foster brothers and sisters, and she had no one.  No one to run home with.  So I stayed with her.  I taught her how to use my camera and she braided my hair with flowers and love.  She never clung onto me like the little kids did, but she showed me all of her heart and soul with her gestures.  My bus driver came late, and suddenly it was time for me to go home without her.  My heart sank... but I couldn’t wait to get back to work the following day to see her.  

My children.  They love to play with my hair.  :) 

Nolwethu and I and the picture she made me :)

The most beautiful child I have ever met.

Tuesday-Schmoozday & the Wednesday of America’s birth.    

I got to work very early actually.  For once.  I almost beat everyone there even.  The young children started showing up one by one, hours before our lessons were supposed to start.  So I gathered them and taught them how to draw.  I drew a flower with a rainbow and pretty soon all of the kids were copying me.  At first I tried to tell them to do something that they want to do.  I realized that most of these kids don’t get the opportunity to draw with crayons... ever.  I sat back and watched as they all tried to replicate the picture I had made, and I was more impressed than I have been yet.  The kids were quiet... concentrating... and learning.  Learning how to draw, and they were awesome at it.  Soon, it was time to start our sessions... but I realized that Nolwethu was nowhere to be found.  I was hoping that she’d show up later... but she never did.  The day went on, I learned how to sing and dance Xhosa style with the children... even though I was completely out of my element... it was probably the most fun I’ve had yet.  My newest companion and one of my closest friends yet, Professor... and myself, had to somehow teach these children all about HIV/AIDS.  Miraculously... we did it, and the children were so great with letting the material we were teaching them sink in. Although the kids can’t speak English, and I know very few words in Xhosa... it hasn’t been a problem yet.  When the day ends and it’s time for me to go home, the children all clung to me and kissed me all over the place.  They did not want me to leave them.  It’s hard for me to leave them.  I told them I would see them tomorrow, and they seemed okay with that.  There’s nothing I can say that would explain the looks on their faces when I have to leave them at the end of the day.  

Coloring in the morning with the children :) 

The end of the day when I had to leave.

The next morning, I brought cup cakes for everyone... I figured it was kind of ‘American’ seeing how it’s America’s birthday.  Everyone was sooooo thankful that I brought in that many cup cakes for everyone.  They couldn’t believe it, and everyone was actually hesitant to eat them at first.  There were two children that showed up early and immediately they were in my lap...playing with my hair... and making me pictures.  This is the last day I get to see the young children until Monday.. and it was kind of hard for them to gather this concept.. and knowing that I won’t be around for them forever.  Again, no sign of Nolwethu.  My heart sank knowing she wasn’t there again, and no one knew why.  Professor and I had to teach the children a skit ‘drama’ on something that had to do with HIV/AIDS. It was tough at first.  The kids would get shy and not want to participate... but as soon as I encouraged them that they can do it by giving them the good ol’ “thumbs up”... they were fighting over who got to participate.  Profy and I decided to ask the kids if they would like to preform their skit and a dance that we have taught them to the older kids at the end of the day.  They weren’t so sure at first, but all they needed was a little encouragement and telling them that I would be sitting right there with them in case they needed me.  When it was time for them to preform... Patrick and the bus showed up early.  I was in a panic... if the kids knew I had to leave, I’m not sure that they would participate.  I ran outside to Patrick and everyone on the bus and told them that they have to come into the building and watch my kids... because I am so proud of them and I have to be there to see it.  They all agreed with no argument.  I was shocked and soooooooo happy.  The kids did their skit, and even though it was all in Xhosa... I’m sure everyone got what was going on because their acting was beyond excellent.  Soon.. it was time for the finally dance.  Since we had to teach the children all about their bodies and how they work, we decided there was nothing better than the good old “cha cha slide”.  Profy and I did the dance with them, and they had a ball.  I think the older kids had a better time watching them, so when it was over... I had this bizarre idea that we should do the dance again, except include everyone in the room.  I put the music on again, and invited everyone to dance.  All the ladies I work with... Lindi, Sis Viv, all the teenagers in the older group.... myself... even Patrick and everyone on my bus.  We all did the Cha Cha slide... in this little cafeteria area, and it was like being in a dream.  Everyone was so happy... everyone was dancing and laughing... the clicks between the teens had been forgotten and everyone just danced.  and smiled.  I had the ultimate high afterwards...and still kind of do.  

doing the Cha Cha slide with everyone :) 

After work, it was time to get home and get dressed up for the big American party we were having at our house... it started off well.  Ended terribly.  I don’t know what it is about the 4th of July and me, but we never seem to get along.  I have had terrible things happen every year.  Maybe it’s a sign that I’m just not supposed to celebrate it.  Anyway....

Thursday... a day of tears. 

Thursday was my day to teach the older kids.  It was their career day, and I had 4.5 hours to somehow... keep them busy and interested in what I had to teach them.  I was having a bit of a rough morning, considering the night I had the night before.  My emotions were at an all time high.. which is pretty unusual for me.  I toughed it out and reminded myself that I can’t be selfish and saddened when I need to be strong for these kids.  I started off the morning by walking into the room of the teens... all segregated and in their little posse of clicks.  I was a little disappointed to see that, but it was not something that I could sit and focus on during that moment.  I talked for about an hour about Art Therapy, Dance Therapy, Counseling, Music Therapy... and Trauma.  The kids asked me millions of questions, and it was amazing to see their interest in this because it’s a complete foreign subject to them.  They have no opportunities for counseling here.  It’s unfortunate, but they don’t have the resources.. or funding.  After the kids got the idea of Art Therapy and what it entails, I told them that I had an art activity for them to do.  I had the kids take a sheet of computer paper and divide it into 3 sections so they could draw a ‘past, present and future’ drawing.  Surprisingly, they worked extremely hard... and quiet on this.  They took it very seriously.  I was completely in my element watching these kids get so involved in their work.  Soon, it was time to clean up.  I had the kids sit in a circle in the middle of the room, and whoever wanted to share their art... the room was open for discussion.  The room was entirely quiet for about 5 minutes, and just as I was about to loose hope for this part of the session... a young girl stood up and walked to the front of the circle.  This young girl was not in the popular click, and had obviously been bullied by the other kids at some point.  She stood brave, and held her ground... and talked about her past.  Her awful... heartbreaking past.  She was speaking in Xhosa... but I knew exactly what she was saying.  Tears rolled down her face... and I could see how much pain had been held inside this young girl. I looked around the room and I could tell by all of these kids facial expressions.. that they were relating to her and her experiences.  After she finished, I hugged her and she sat down.  Soon, another girl stood up and talked, again... tears were falling, and the kids started holding each others hands.  Then another shared their experiences, and another... and another.  All of them, had tears flowing... even the boys.  It was so heartbreaking to hear their stories... and how these children have never experienced love by their biological parents, or never even knew them.  I suddenly felt selfish for the way I had been feeling today.  Before I knew it, we were out of time and all the kids couldn’t share their pictures.  I told the kids that we needed to pray for each other before we left for lunch, and the room was suddenly filled with unison... love... and passion.  The kids all had their arms around each other, myself included. And prayed... a very passionate prayer.  We said ‘Amen’ and the kids immediately started all hugging each other and telling each other how brave they are.  The kids who normally didn’t get along, were.  The love that was in the room was almost overwhelming for me.  I felt tears start to fill my eyes, but reminded myself that I needed to keep my composure for them.  They all went and got their lunches, and ate outside... in a circle.  And they were all included.  All I could do was smile.  These kids, who have experienced some horrible things in their past, were now coming together.. because they realized they all have something in common.  Lindi even mentioned that art therapy needs to be apart of their lives.  These kids have never been able to talk about these sort of things with each other.  And now it’s creating unison that was once nearly impossible.  

working on their art :)

The first to talk about their art. 

Thursday sent me through an emotional roller coaster.  It was a big reminder that I need to be fortunate of what I have.  Who I am as a person.  And who I have back home.  I decided to take a moment... actually, a couple of days... to reflect on myself... remind myself that I am one lucky brat sometimes, and I need to be more grateful for everything. These kids wake up everyday, often wearing the same clothes they did the day before... and the day before that.  They have to sleep on the floors in their homes because there isn’t enough room.  The don’t have the love of their biological parents... yet they are so unbelievably thankful for the littlest things in life.  They can see the true beauty of life when they are so young.. and yet, I’m going to be 25 shortly and I still struggle finding that out for myself. Seeing these kids look at the world the way they do...it is by far the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced.  

I’ve taken the entire weekend off from my adventuring... partying.. and getting into my troublesome shennanigans.  There is nothing wrong with having fun, but I have to remind myself why I am here.  I need to reflect on my life.  Not taking things for granted.. people for granted... especially the people that love me the most. Experiencing the past couple days are something that happen once in a lifetime.  I have been touched by an angel.  I need to let it sink in for a little bit.  

Cheers.  

I can't wait until monday morning. 

you're in the arms of an angel; may you find some comfort here.