Sunday, August 10, 2008

I'm sure you haven't been asked that, yet...

"How was Africa?"


People keep asking how it was, and to sum up everything in a 2-minute speech has been very difficult. It was everything that I expected, and nothing that I expected. After a year of getting submersed in Africa education by two good friends obsessed with Africa, I knew of some things to expect. I knew it would be dusty. I knew there would be abandoned and broken down buildings. I knew that being white, I would stick out like a sore thumb.


But nothing could have truly prepared me for what I would see. In ways, none of it was huge to me because a lot of it I knew what to expect. Like when I went to New York, I realized that I worried way too much beforehand about safety. We got there, and while it was very difficult to put my trust in people I didn't know, I also never felt unsafe that I recall. OK, never mind, scratch that... maneuvering around spikes in the road at 10PM after just getting off the plane was slightly scary. Particularly since we had been warned that there would be guards everywhere that we went (for the record, I saw 3 the entire week.)


When we got to the orphanage, I have to say nothing really surprised me. The kids were just like kids here. Except quiet, and very well-behaved. Oh, and they spoke in adorable accents that almost always led me to have to ask about 4 times what they said. I am first and foremost a musician, so hearing them sing and worship was just indescribable and amazing. And then, like kids here, they just wanted time with us. Any time that we could spend talking and listening was amazing.


The first few days there, I spent really missing people back home. I left the walking Africa encyclopedia here, so I had a hard time not being able to pick up the phone and ask him what was going on. But as the week wore on, I gained more comfort with the children, and even asked their thoughts on the war. I wish instead of reading the newspaper or checking out the aol.com blurbs, I always could be lucky enough to hear the stories directly from the source.


I asked about their tribes, and how that effected them within the center. She said that as soon as they get to the center, they learn that they are now a new tribe. They are all one. Many of them do not speak their tribal language anymore. They are there to help out each other.


We were really shocked by that. In America, we explained, kids are doing anything they can to form tribes. Whether it's through a clique or through gangs, kids want anything to belong and feel as if they are a part of something bigger.
So, the obvious questions. Was it hot? No. It was freezing the entire week. And I'm not being sarcastic. The picture below is of Derek's feet. He was walking around in the mud and rain with these socks and boots on. It made us very sad.



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