Sunday 7/19/2009

Maybe I should not have had the girls do my makeup. I woke up today with a minor eye irritation...

I then headed deep into the slums, because I had a friend of a friend who was willing to braid my hair. She did an awesome job. In the meantime, 15 children saw a Mzungu in the hood and flooded in. The kids were hysterical. When one wanted to hold my hand, they all ran up and tried to grab it. There is another hand, but none of them want that one. At one point, one kid handed me a baby. Just handed it to me. And then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, I was getting my hair braided with a 4 month old child in my arms (I can not emphasize enough how warmly Kenyans dress in the 75 degree weather; the baby was wearing flannel footies, a fleece onesie, and a winter hat). I admit, I did look in the mirror and pretend it was mine... just for a few minutes. I spent the rest of the time wondering: Should I adopt a baby or an older child? How stringent are Kenyan's adoption laws? What would happen if I just took this baby? What should I name it? ...and so on.

No later than 5 hours later, voila! I was camouflaged. On the 20 minute walk back to the orphanage, not one person shouted "Mzungu." I noted a statistically significant reduction in the amount of stares. Despite how ridiculous I felt, I was beaming with pride when the girls told me how great I looked, and even the boys (especially the one with a big crush on yours truly) commented that I looked "smart." On the way home from the orphanage, one guy who normally shouts Mzungu at me even said "Wa, your hair looks smart!"

Enoch and I couldn't help ourselves...


One of the girls ran her finger across my forehead and asked whether I had pimples or a rash. When I told her they were pimples, she said I was becoming a woman. Yes, I said, I am 15 years old. She laughed and said, no, you are 17, right? If you are white and feel like your age is showing, rather than plastic surgery or expensive lotions, I recommend coming to Africa. I guarantee results that will make you appear 10 years younger, instantly.

I had a meeting with Salome today. I have feared her since day 1. She started By Grace in 2002 and has since had to worry that 250 children are adequately fed and schooled on a daily basis. She has had to dodge the Mungiki, kick delinquent kids out on the street to fend for themselves (only after giving them enough chances to continue to take advantage of her), and manage any other impossible tasks that present themselves. I have heard stories about some of the worse days she's had, and have been tiptoeing around her for 4 weeks. Today in her office, I teared up when she told me how much she thanked God for me in her prayers, and how I was sent to this earth from God to do his work; how I've been one of the best volunteers she's ever had because of how unique I am (I long ago gave up anyone appreciating my bizarre personality). She said when I'm around she hears laughter for the first time from the teacher's lounge, and she's even seen a positive change in Joel, and that she prays to God to send me a husband as a reward for all the good things I do.

Here I stopped crying and started laughing. I told her none of this would be possible without her truly blessed heart. And that thanks, but she didn't need to waste any prayers on a husband for me. She closed her eyes, reached up to the sky, and insisted that she would continue to pray for a husband who would share my values, be my partner in doing what we felt was right by people, and maybe even come to By Grace. For the next 10 seconds I felt myself float up to the ceiling, helpless, as I watched myself say "may God hear your prayers, Amen."

A new housegirl has materialized. Her name is Priscilla. She seems nice. I don't really know, because she sits in the kitchen all day, just sitting, staring, sometimes cooking, and then eating her food, and then disappears behind the curtain in the living room to go to bed.