My “A” Letter

I earned my “A” for this trip because I learned how to love unconditionally.

I have always known love, how to give it and how to receive it. But never have I known unconditional love. Even though it be around me, I didn’t know it. I finally earn my “A” by recognizing, giving, and feeling it. I earn my “A” thanks to my 47 children, and especially thanks to Cannisia, the one who proved it all to me.

Cannisia is the most beautiful child I ever had the pleasure and opportunity to know. After three weeks I had already singled her out as a child who would open doors of my heart that had not yet been opened. She didn’t just open those doors, she filled them, stretched them, made my heart fuller than it’s ever been before. Now that her physical presence is gone, her love can only remain in my heart, stretched to the limit, a testament to how I have loved.

The stretch, like an unconditioned muscle, is painful. But the result is so much healthier in the long run. I sometimes wished that I wouldn’t have had to stretch as much as I did, that I wouldn’t have let a child so far into my heart, because then I wouldn’t have this pain. I could have left Africa only with the satisfaction of 8.5 months of service done, culture experienced, and pats on the back received. But no. I loved, I learned, I stretched, and now I suffer. And I wouldn’t go back for anything in the world. “I could have missed the pain, but I’d have had to miss the dance.” –Garth Brooks

But I can’t forget the other children who needed me just as much as I needed them. Yusta. Godi. Grace. Nesto. Arnold. Ernesty. Martha. Getrude. Leah. Deo. Abenego. Kanisius. Kasian. Aggrey. All of them gave me unconditional love, I didn’t deserve it, but they gave it to me anyway. And through their unfailing, persistent, unconditional example, I learned to give it back to them.

This unconditional, unfailing, unreserved, unparalleled love from the children I met in Africa would be wasted if I didn’t try to pay it forward to everyone I met, especially the children I will somehow have in my life. The jewels of my African orphans must be shared. I earn my “A” because I do just that.

Africa is funny. It splits you right down the middle. You love it, you hate it, you beg to stay, you can’t wait to leave, you feel safe, you’re always wary. Africa split another part of me—it broke my heart. It gave me eight months of twisted emotions, only to leave me with one—love. Love evokes beauty along with pain, and though I feel mostly pain, I know there is beauty there somewhere. The pain, the fear, the emptiness of leaving my children behind is only rivaled by the love both given and received because of them.

Though the road be long, winding, rough, and wearing, I will be able to keep going because I carry with me the strength brought by the unconditional love I have been given and can now give in return. I have been loved, I do love, and I will love.

And that is how I earned my “A.”

Cheat Sheet

Some Swahili words and phrases have been burned into my brain. So much so, that I’ll probably be using them frequently even upon my return home. I give you a cheat sheet now so you can study and understand what I’m saying later:

Karibu (kah-REE-boo) – welcome/come in

Asante (ah-SAHN-tay) – thank you

Pole sana (POH-lay SAH-na) – bummer!

Tayari (ta-YAH-ree) – ready

Nini? (NEE-nee) – What?

Twende (TWEN-day) – Let’s go.

Njoo (nn-JOH) – come

Acha! (AH-cha) – Stop it!

Hamna shida (HAHM-na SHEE-da) – No problem.

Unafanya nini? (oo-na-FAHN-yah NEE-nee) – What are you doing?

Unaenda wapi? (oo-na-EN-da WAH-pee) – Where are you going?

Subiri kidogo (soo-BEE-ree kee-DOH-goh) – Wait a little.

Happy studying!

Lugarawa Orphanage shopping

Lake Nyasa 1

[caption id="attachment_170" align="alignnone" width="112" caption="My Girl"][/caption]

Baptism

The worm in my toe - for Ryan

The Countdown Begins

Under 3 weeks remain of our 8 ½ month adventure, and only 9 more days in Imiliwaha. Sara and I are continuing work as normal, but there’s a strange feeling about it, at least for me. Yes, it’s time to come home, that fact is made evident to me every day. But those children, especially Cannisia, are the only threads tempting me to stay here forever. I’m ready to go back to civilization, to entertainment and technology, to meals that aren’t the same every day, and to ice cold Coca-cola in a can. But there is one thing that I will NEVER be ready for, and that’s leaving my 47 children and the one love of my life.

In case blog opportunities come to a standstill in these last weeks (and the typically limited internet only allows me time check e-mail and job search), here’s what’s in store:

• Claudio of the Italian organization Pangea comes on Sunday to check up on the orphanage
• Sara and I head to Lugarawa on Thursday with plans to sleep in on Friday (on purpose for only the 2nd time this whole trip) and climb the mountain on Saturday for the 4th and final time (and hopefully without getting lost)
• Monday morning we return to Imiliwaha, resume work, and begin preparations for our departure
• Thursday afternoon, there will be a little party at the orphanage for my departure, where I will be crying buckets and clinging to Cannisia the whole time; afterwards we will enjoy a nice meal with Coke in our dining room, where I will still be crying buckets
• Friday morning we leave for Njombe
• Saturday we hop a bus at 5:30am, depart for Dar at 6am with Elisa; arrive in Dar approx. 6pm, taxi it to the YMCA, take a cold shower, and hunt down our choice Lebanese restaurant
• Sunday we’ll hike to a ferry which will take us to our Masai hut on stilts; beach bum the rest of the day
• Monday we continue to beach bum, eating fruit and drinking out of coconuts
• Tuesday we leave our hut, get ourselves to the airport, say goodbye to Elisa, where once again I will be crying buckets, and hopefully have safe, excruciatingly boring flights to Nairobi, and then Amsterdam
• Wednesday we have a 5-hour layover in Amsterdam where I will write my “A” Letter (you’ll see what I mean), hopefully have another safe, excruciatingly boring flight to Minneapolis, get thru customs, run crying into my parents’ arms telling them all about their granddaughter-from-afar, and finally go home to fitted sheets, cold cereal, and season 5 of The Office.

Easter and such

Major Holiday #2 is down…Easter was a nice celebration, though not nearly as big as I thought it would be. We only had 6 servers, and I counted a mere 53 doilies hung up in the church. However, Easter Vigil was 3.5 hours long, and Father’s first sermon was a whopping 39 minutes. We were hoping he’d break an hour with his combined sermons, but he only got up to 47. Darn.

Our dining room, on the other hand, has 76 doilies. I can’t decide if it’s cute or disturbing.

Vigil was absolutely fantastic. Not because of the music, not because of the candlelight, but because I got to hold my baby girl Cannisia all the way up to communion. She and 8 other orphans were being baptized, and they let me be her “godmother”. It was magical. She was conked out most of the service (she had been running a fever that morning), but she did wake up suddenly just as the sermon started. She started bawling, so I had to get up and take her out. Naturally she stopped before I even reached the back of the church. Then she conked out again. Twerp

After the sign of peace, I went to take my place in the choir. I danced and sang, and tried desperately to save the altos during the Hallelujah Chorus…to no avail. Ah well, we started together, and we ended together. That’s all the counts, right?

Monday I gave the orphans some green Jello, courtesy of Nick Kleespie. They were a little weirded out at first, and the looks on some of the babies’ faces were priceless, but they enjoyed it.

Sugar is back on the menu! I admit, I don’t need as much sweet stuff as I did before Lent. And it feels a little strange to eat the candy I’ve been saving. But let me tell you—nothing beats a Coke after 47 days without it!