Flattered and disgusted!

5-19-22 Linden Blog

My time in Mwandi was amazing! I am now on a plane to Johannesburg and then to Paris. I was bummed that we had to keep moving but ready to go. In Mwandi, as you probably know, Dad, Asher, and I worked at a what we thought was an orphanage. When we finally arrived in Mwandi, I was surprised on how spread out all of the buildings and everything was because I expected the town to be small and compact. Our first real day there was a rest day. We settled into our amazing house that we would live in for 3 more days. The house was super nice along with Kelvin and Irene who cooked for us and did the housework. The next day, the first day at work, we went late morning to the “orphanage,” while Mom left for the hospital to work. We walked in the big metal gate, but no one was there. It was like a ghost town. The area was set up with many different small buildings, one for each activity or subject. We walked into the main building where a few desks were. One man came out and introduced himself as Giblet. Giblet was in flannel and Harry Potter glasses and supposedly in charge. We told him why we were here, but he had no idea that we were coming! That surprised and kind of offended me because we had had that planned for months. He gave us a “tour” basically just pointing fingers around and mumbling to himself, but he got the message across. One building, the biggest one was where the kids eat, another was a sewing room, one was a game room, one was the kitchen, and one was where the staff did symposium, which I am not accustomed to at all. Giblet was the only one there at the time and told us to come back at 11. Sure enough, at 11:15 we were back and once again, we were sent back again by the feeding manager, Lemi, who was in a tricycle wheelchair with hand pedals. It was quite the contraption. Once again, we came back at 12:30. Finally, there were lots of kids there! There must have been at least 50 of them. Most of them were between the ages of 5 and ten. We walked to the back where the kitchen was and found some of the feeding assistants. As we walked past the playground, all of the kids just stopped and stared at us. I have never felt like that before. Though, that was just one of hundreds of times that happened. Once in the back, I then found out that it was not an orphanage, but just a lunch cafeteria mostly.

5-23-22 (extension)

I should have put that together because it is not advertised as an orphanage. It is called the OVC, standing for orphaned and vulnerable children. Any children that their guardians cannot care for them, could come, and have a big meal there. We walked in and by then the word had spread about us coming, so we were put to work. The food was prepped in a small stand in the back and the kids were in small school chairs in the main room. Most of the kids were sitting there, but some were still out front playing. The feeding routine was the same for all three days. Our first job was to feed all the kids in uniforms for school. Their meal was a big chunk of cornmeal type stuff, some chicken, and a little bit of cabbage. It actually smelled really good. After all the kids in uniforms were fed, we would move on to the rest. The kids that were still out on the playground would migrate in and be given food on their own time. I realized that most of the kids would clap quietly, then be given their bowl of food. This meant thank you. Once all the kids were finished, there was always an activity. First day was drawing, second day was reading, and third day was toys. Drawing day was not much drawing. It started with all the kids grabbing a piece of paper and some colored pencils and starting their drawings. Then, out of habit, I made a cute little paper airplane, which Asher did after me. First there were two. Asher and I started running around the room throwing them while 100 eyes turned and watched. One time, I threw it too far and one of the 10 year old boys picked it up and threw it back to me. After the first kid, there were twenty more, tackling each other for one of the two paper airplanes. I sat down just to be getting papers shoved in my face so I would make paper airplanes out of the drawn on paper. I probably made about 13 more paper airplanes and my hands hurt after that. That was all while Asher and my dad were doing the same thing. Once about 80% of the papers I was supposed to fold were ones that were already made but unfolded, I stood up and started playing with them again. While I was busy making paper airplanes, a few of the younger girls kept going behind me and rubbing their hands on my hair. They are probably not used to blond, thin hair, while all of them had thick brown or black hair. Paper airplanes migrated outside soon but got kind of just thrown all over when they were done. I picked some of those up and threw them inside. Reading day was what it was supposed to be with hundreds of half books, shredded and ruined and ripped. All the kids clamored for the ones that had sides connected. That made me realize how much I had. Some were using the broken off covers as snowboards, sliding across the tile floor on them. Toy day was again like it was supposed to be. A bin of legos and blocks, and other things was placed in the middle of the room and within two seconds tipped over with a loud crash. The kids all rushed to the toppled bin and just grabbed a big armful of plastic building things, not caring if they were the same or not. Not one building block was left when the building part started. All the artworks made did not look like much to me, but apparently did to the kids. On all three days, football was the other activity of the day. You all probably know it as soccer. Always, there was a boy’s field and a girl’s field. The boys got a big, wide open, sandy area, while the girls were in a little corner that had trees in the game and the two goals were about 20 feet away from one another. Asher was with the boys, and of course, I was pulled over to the girl’s field. Choosing teams was hard for us because I did not speak their language, but they all wanted me on their team. On all three days, there was a tug of war of my arms and legs to be on their team. Once the teams were somehow decided, the game began. The game had about 35 girls playing on it, so everyone was running into each other, and passing was a thing of the past. The goals were lines drawn in the sand with sticks in the sand. There were no boundaries, so the soccer ball at one time moved all the way over to the playground. All the girls went straight towards the ball, so the ball really never moved more than six inches freely. Apparently, my team won the first day, lost the second day, and won the third day. Day one and two of football were very similar and typical. In the middle of the game on the third day, a girl came into the game through the big metal gate at the back of the field. She was older, and about once every 30 seconds, would ask me questions about where I was from, my age, and my name. Smack dab in the middle of the game, she introduced herself as Betty, a twelve year old, and told me that she wanted to bring me over to the school to meet her friends. I did not know what to do but say yes, so I got pulled out the metal gate to the school premises, right behind the OVC. It got all quiet getting away from the loud soccer game. About 15 girls and a teacher walked out from behind the small schoolhouse and their eyes caught on me with Betty and they hustled over, and I got surrounded. They were the same age as Betty. I introduced myself while they all nodded. I had to keep turning my head around so I could see all of them, seeing as they were in a circle around me. Each one told me their name. Most of them then left through the trees, but 3 still were with me holding my hands. Betty, Joyce, and Christian walked with me back over to the soccer game and then started playing. Some more of the girls I met slowly joined us. The field got very crowded, so we looked for a new location. Also, while I was over at the school, the soccer ball had gotten punctured by the gate and was completely flat, but we still played with it because there were no other options. We found a much better sandy area behind the boy’s field to play. I drew the lines and set up the sticks for the goals while I don’t know why, everyone stared at me. The game started, but the older girls, about ten at that point would not allow me to play or move. They all crowded around asking questions. Betty also informed me that her friend had a crush on Asher of all people. Betty also informed me that her friend also had a boyfriend, so I shouldn’t tell anybody. Instead of Betty’s friend denying it, she kept saying how handsome Asher was which I was disgusted and flattered by. All the days we were there, the day ended with some gymnastics. I would do something, and all the kids would try to copy it. One thing I noticed was that the boys specifically are VERY athletic. I would do a back walkover and they all would rush to the playground to do aerials off of a brick or backflips off of a springy teeter totter type thing. No training whatsoever. Of the things I did, they could do all of them except for backwalkover. It was very entertaining to see them try though. On the first two days, they would kind of reach back, then fall and pop back up and try again. The third day, they started on the ground, got into a bridge, then their friends would pull their legs over. I would not be surprised if they have that mastered now, a week later. At the very end of the day, one of the feeding assistants would bring all the kids with her probably back to their houses, but all of them had to leave with her. They would not leave if we did not leave though, so that was the end for us too. At that time too, it was picture time. Dad would run backwards out and yell out to the kids to smile, and all the kids would come running to the camara waving their hands. Betty and one of the other girls wanted a picture with me alone on the third day, so we tried but it failed miserably. I signed Betty’s notebook and that was the end. I waved bye to all the kids on the last day. It was sad to leave but I was ready to keep going. Later that night, I had some surprise visitors at my door. It was three of the twelve year olds who had somehow found our house and I gave them my number. That was the last I saw Mwandi kids. Maybe I will be back at some time…