(English version) Adventures in Africa - 2

Sasa?
Fit!

It's slang that the children taught us. It means something like "What's up? Cool!"

Now the second part, where we tell more about the orphanage experience.
By the way, because it takes such a looong time to post the pictures on the blog, please see them in the Portuguese versions.

Like we said before, there were 32 children (only 10 boys), from 5 to 15 years old.
Since they are all in school age already, they all spoke English and we had no communication problems, except for the fact that they almost whisper when they talk, in such a low voice it's very hard to hear.

Before we went on safari, the big girls asked us :"have you ever tasted pizza?" They dreamed of eating pizza. Imagine. We can eat pizza all the time... For a moment our heart was broken, but very quickly we thought: this dream is easy to make come true!

Sunday night, when we were returning from safari, we asked the driver to stop at a supermarket and we bought all ingredients to make pizza.
There's a big grocery stores' chain called Nakumatt. They have everything. But it's quite expensive for the locals.
We only were able to get 15 medium pizza doughs, but it was better than nothing.
This "white people" foods are expensive. We spend around US$ 40, which for us is not so bad, but for them, it's unthinkable.

Later the driver agreed to take us close to the orphanage, as long as we paid him extra.
At a certain point he started complaining that it was too far, and we had to give him even more money.
He stopped the car on the main road and the had to walk the remaining dirt (unpaved) part with all the bags, and it was already getting dark.
We were warmly welcomed by the guys at the orphanage.

Every time you meet the kids (after school, in the morning when you wake up, etc), they come and shake your hand.
But with Lu the rule was different. Besides the handshake, they also had to give a hug.
On the first days they didn't know what to do. They were very very shy. But then, always joking and laughing, I would take their little skinny arms and wrap around my waist. After just a few days, they would already come with arms open wide, naturally hugging me.
So, there were a few times when I gave and received about 32 hugs, several times per day. How great is that?

On Monday the school restarted, and their routine is tough. They wake up between 5;00 and 5:30, do some household chores, put on the uniform, eat breakfast and go to school.
For breakfast somtimes they eat a kind of porridge, made with beans, fish and other not-so-attractive ingredients. The children hate it, but the family and the aunties insist is very nutritious.
When they leave, the remaining people (aunties and family) go back to sleep until around 9:00.

We woke up around 9:00, had breakfast (for us it was different, we never had the polemic porridge) and worked on our tasks.
Andre was asked to catalog the books of the “library” and Lu helped in the “kitchen”.
Andre spent several days organizing and listing the books. It was a respectable collection (more than 300), but some were very old and in poor condition.
Lu would be outside, helping the aunties sort beans (several different types), lentils and other grains she'd never seen before; sort out and wash kale and other vegetables; hold the pan while someone else was churning the ugali, etc. Sometimes she would go and do the dishes, even upon the protests of the aunties (this is not something for a visitor to do).

Around noon we would take lunch for the kids at schoold. The rice and beans is put on small individual plastic containers (they eat with their hands), and we would take them to the school (a 20 min walk).
The school offers lunch, but you have to pay extra.
The small children returned to the orphanage with us, and the big ones (8 years and up) stay in school until 5:00 pm.

The new president made primary school free, but forgot that you have this requires investment in resources. So now, classrooms that were buildt for 25 students are crowded with up to 80. Of course the teachers are unable to offer any type of indivudual attention, and the level has fallen.
Even with those actions, there's still shortage of public schools, so there are private ones as well. But do not think private school is better than public. Just take a look at the picture on the Portuguese version part 2, where you'll see a private school which is more like a shack (with some animals painted on the doors).

The uniform was green and yellow (Brazil colors!) , dress for the girls, shorts and shirt for the boys. It's worn out, old. They are repaired and used again and again, for several years, and passed on when they are outgrown.
The socks and shoes are used only to go to school and to church and as soon as they get home, they wash them and put them away.
The backpacks are decades old and in bad condition.

In Kenya most of the people can only afford to buy used (second hand) clothes. New clothes are for rich people only.
So they go to the markets (I'll detail the market later) and buy.
It's forbidden by law to sell used underwear, so you can imagine how difficult it is with that.
We knew that and took with us some packages of briefs and panties, that were very well received.

Even tough Kenya is right on the Equator line, Nairobi and surroundings are at about 2000 meters above sea level, which means is kind of cold. And now it's rain season.
At dusk and dawn it's really cold, specially between 4;00 and 6:00 am.
And the children are barefoot inside the house. They do have flip flops (sandals), but they use them when outside.
They told us in July it can become so cold that they walk around wrapped in blankets, and the fireplace is on as much as possible.
We were lucky that on those weeks we were there, it didn't rain much. When the rain came, it was fast and things became muddy.
Children have no umbrellas (except a few ones that received one from some relatives), so if it rains on the way to/from school, there's no other option but to get wet.

When we returned from school, we would have lunch and then it was time for the afternoon nap (for everybody in the house). After that we would play with the small kids, help with their homework and Andre would go back to the book catalloging and Lu to the kitchen.

With the little ones we would do all sorts of activities. Soap bubbles, ink their hands and stamp them on paper, dance, sing, etc.
Andre played hid and seek and also “jackin’ the ball” (or was it jack in the box?), in which one is in the center, everybody sings a song and then imitates what the center person does.
It was a big laugh generator!

Study time was tough. Some children are very weak.
We have to remember that these children have been through all kinds of difficulties, and I even think some of them might have suffered brain damage.
Ruth (the mom, the lady that established the orphanage) told us that before she rescued the kids, some of them would go on 3 to 5 days without eating, having only a glass of warm water.
One example is Rose. She's 8 years old, but the size and weight of a 5 or 6 year old child.
When Ruth brought her, she was malnourished, loosing hair and at highly at risk. Her parents died of AIDS when she was 3, and the mother, already infected, had breatfed her.
But they ran the tests and fortunately she didn't get the virus.
Obviously kids that have suffered lack of food and everything else cannot have the same learning speed as a regular child. But they are trying and slowly improving.
and there are a few who are very intelligent and really eager to do better.

At night it was time for the famous and awaited pizza.
We had to adapt, because they have no oven. we did the pizza using the chapati pan on the charcoal "grill". We used an upside down pan to cover the pizza, holding the heat and melting the cheese.
The bottom burned a little bit, but it was still a big success.

The children eat A LOT. When I say a lot, you have no idea! The plate is like a mountain of food! A portion that 2 adults would share in Brazil (American portions are huge).
But it's because they only eat 3 times a days. Absolutely nothing between the meals.
And still, they are very thin, skinny arms and legs.
We had to control the amount of food they would serve us, because you have to eat everything.
They couldn't understand how we could eat so "little".
When we told them that the amount of food 32 kids eat there could feed 50 kids in Brazil, they found it very hard to believe.

They have an organized menu for each day of the week.
The base is rice and beans (or other type of grain). Once or twice a week they each ugali (the polenta or tasteless cake), with a very small amount of meat (usually on a stew), and chapati (the flat bread, similar to a pancake), very greasy.
The ugali days were the toughest for us. It was just the ugali with some cooked shredded kale, and you had to eat with your hands. But it was no big deal.

Another day they made some special food for us, a stew with plantains (a big green banana) and some potatoes, with spices. Very good!
They use a lot of cilantro/coriander. I don't think they have parsley, just coriander/cilantro.
It goes very well with lentils!
In very special occasions, they slaughter a hen/chicken. In our honor they slaughtered the rooster and two chickens, against our will (we didn't want them to have this expense). They cook almost everything. They remove the feet, but keep the legs.

They only drink water (fortunately they have a wel (I don't know how to spell it)), and in the morning the "tea", which is British style (water, milk and tea). They have their own cow = milk.
Coffee is too expensive for them. Despite the fact that Kenya plants coffee, everything goes for export.
Once in a while a fruit as dessert (while we were there they had pear and orange).

When there is a very special occasion, there's goat barbecue.
We ate a little bit of goat meat in the first host family, and it's a fat, hard and chewy meat.

After eating the kids "sweep and mop" the floor. The "broom" is a bunch of branches. They bend to do everything, which would be a torture for our backs.
Laundry is washed by hand in a bucket.

Then it was prayer and praise time, and homework.
They are divided in classes are divided and we would go and help.
There's a teacher in the orphanage staff, and she organizes what they will study each day and correct the work.
We did a lot of reading with them, dictation, writing and repetition.

Finally, it's bath time and sleep.
Bath is with a bucket, since there's not shower or tub. They warm the water on the charcoal.
We learned that you need very little water for a bath. Half a bucket is enough already.
Needless to say we forgot the vanity for that period. There wasn't even a mirror, except for a small broken one.

This was our routine.
Every night we gave them something, a chocolate, a pencil, books, stickers, baloons, etc.
They learned to say “obrigado” (thank you in Portuguese) and we to say“karibu” (you're welcome).

Lu became very close to the aunties. They were very interested and always wanted to know how things were in Brazil and USA. Most of them have children of their own, but they leave far away (up to 12 hours by bus). The ladies had to leave home to look for work, and near Nairobi there are better opportunities and better pay. Some only see their kids 3 times a year.
These kind of workers are kind of discriminated. They have to eat outside, separate from the others, and only after everybody has finished. In the first house we stayed the maid was extremely excluded. When I left I gave her a bracelet and some cookies, and she was so happy that the cried and gave me a hug worth a lifetime.

But everybody, absolutely everybody has a cell phone. And there's signal everywhere!
Sometimes we would be in the middle of nowhere, like in the safari reserve, and their phones still work. So, at least everyone communicates.
E-mail and internet are also available in every village. Dial up, veeeery slow, but it exists. 10 minutes cost 10 shillings = US$ 0,15.

One day the cooks assistant invited Lu to go with her to the market, in Ngong town.
It was quite an experience!
There are hundreds of "stands" (in terrible condition, I don't know how they still stand) where all kinds of things are sold. Fruits, vegetables, used clothes, radios, kitchen items, and whatever you can imagine.
There are also butcheries, something even more extraordinary. They don't refrigerate meat there (fridges and freezers are luxury itmes, for few people). So you see those chunks of goat and cow hanging on the window, and the butcher chops the piece you want on a wood log (that only God knows how long has been standing there). I think I don't need to mention the lack of cleanliness...

Everything was very dirty. there are plastic bags and rotten rests of vegetables everywhere, goats walking among people, mud, etc.

Each tribe has its own typical food, specific vegetables, etc.
We bought tomatoes, onions and oranjes, and returned to the orphanage by matatu.
To travel by matatu is almost life threatening. The vans seem to have survided a nuclear bombing.
They are falling apart, there are holes in the floor and ceiling, no seat bealts, I sincerely don't know how the engine is still running. The drivers get paid per number of trips, so they drive like crazy, speeding, passing in any lanes, driving outside the roads, etc.
Some matatus are customized. We saw one painted as a “Ferrari”, another one with a painting of Britney, and some very creative names.

Children have various ambitions. Some of the big girls want to be air hostesses (flight attendants), bank employees. The boys want to be pilots or mechanical engineers. And a lot of the young girls want to be doctors.
If they work hard and do well in school, they might have the opportunity to go to college. The best student (Susan) goes to boarding school, where the education is better.

And they are doing fine. What recovered these children and gives them hope is faith.
They were rescued through a church and they firmly believe and follow a Christian life.
Thanks to God the orphanage was built and now they can have a safe and good life.

It's interesting to obsever that the goal there is not adoption. For them, the resident family and the orphanage is the new family.
They intend to stay together until they graduate, get a jog and get married.

On Friday the "dad' took us for a ride. We went to a shopping complex where there is a “masaai market”.
Masaai is one of the biggest tribes in Kenya. In the countryside, they still live like hundreds of years ago.
The women do all the work, from building the house (made of mud, branches and cow s...), cooking, taking care of the children, etc.
The man might herd the cattle, and that's it. Men can have several wives and the women have no material possessions or right to anything.
When the husband dies, it the woman has no sons, she might starve to death.
The masai are very skinny, do a giant hole in the ears and wear colorful blankets (that they make themselves, I have no idea how).
The houses are surrounded by thorns and branches, to keep lions and leopard away.
We went to buy souvenirs at this masaai market, but it was a brutal wild experience. You have to bargain a lot, because they multiply the prices but 4 or 5 when they see you, and there's a lot of harassment.

In the end, we were very close, the kids and us.
We couldn't cause any major impact in their lives, but we gave a love, made them laugh, gave small gifts, palyed together, exchanged information about our countries and tried to help with their studies.

We are sure we are the ones who learned the most.
Last night was emotional and tearful, and they gave us some notes and letters we didn't have the courage to open yet.

They had received volunteers before (there's a church in Tenessee that heps sponsor them and whose members come visit once a year), but we were the first ones to stay there, sleep there and for that long.

We all reinforced the notion that skin color is as importante as liver or stomach color.
We are all people, and all we want is a good life and love.
And we learned that, when there's a will, one singe person like Ruth can change the world. At least the world of 32 children.
With faith in God, doors open and miracles happen.