Little People. Big Victories

Doors are opening. Everywhere. And blessings are growing and blooming. There's no better way to see them than in my relationship with kids . . . the three on our compound, and all the neighbors surrounding us. Two Sundays ago, Mami said she wanted to come to church with me. But she hadn't planned. I was going on bike, and she would have to walk (since she has no bike). So the next Sunday, she Äpi, and Queen (our neighbor) got themselves bathed and dressed in their Sunday clothes a whole hour early so they could set out on foot and meet me there. And so they did. I beat them despite the 40 minute head start (I have a strong feeling there were more than a few side-tracks along the way ;).
When they arrived, they promptly found me and squeezed themselves (literally) in by my side like a string of goslings, streams of sweat pouring from their heads, and smiling ear to ear. By afternoon they were wrecked - two hours of walking in the hot sun, and sitting for a two hour service with little more than tea and a mandazi for breakfast, and some gulps from my water bottle before they set off home again was probably enough to convince them this excursion might be a one-time thing.  HA!

One afternoon I pulled out my sketch book. Beta and Mami couldn't be more excited. Paper and pencils emerged. They watched as I observed them and started drawing. And they did the same. Giggling at times. But mostly bowed in solemn concentration.

Another afternoon, Dora the Explorer took center stage in our compound. The kids were all at home on their own with nothing to do. I'd gotten a set of cardboard D.T.E. dominos at the dollar store back in the States. And I pulled them out for a debut in game playing, and very importantly - game playing etiquette. Kids are enthralled by anything new here. Unfortunately, they're not good at caring for the things they get. Papers and trinkets and clothes alike are dropped in the mud, chewed on, torn, argued over, smudged with dirty or food-caked fingers and strewn about for the next lucky explorer to find. Go figure, they're kids after all! Coming from the Ukrainian immigrant background of my parents and grandparents, however, this drives me batty. Things you get are not just disposable. They cost money, and money was hard earned with hours of arduous labor. Even more, they are a gift from God to bless us. You treat them with respect and care. And you preserve them for use as long as possible.

I'd originally thought I wanted some language coaching on how to explain these kinds of things, but I hadn't gotten around to it, and, well, why not just jump in and try? So I did. And amazingly enough, it worked! I told them these are good things (the dominos), and white, and we have to be careful with them (challenging since there's no word or concept for being careful, except maybe to say "take it slowly"). First we wash our hands. We always pick them up slowly, and put them down slowly. We don't put them on the ground, or do like this with them (insert hand gestures of bending or peeling) and we make sure that before we play, we wash our little table. When we play, there are four players, and if you are not one of the players, we should never see your hands on the table (everyone wants to play or contribute their superior skills FOR the actual players).

Then came the challenge. Each domino, instead of having dots for numbers, had different pictures. Before we could play, I told each of them they had to learn the names for the pictures (bag, crocodile, cow, girl, etc.) - in Moru AND English! So that became a riotously fun competition in and of itself.

Game playing morphed into song singing. They taught me an Arabic song about carrying Jesus' cross that one of them happened to be singing at the time. How patient they are to sing it over and over until I get it! And then totally excited when I've sang it all on my own! And then I taught them "Deep & Wide."  (Insert challenge: how on earth will I translate this for them so they can actually understand what it's about??) There isn't a word for 'wide' in Moru, and nobody has ever heard of a fountain. But a stroke of brilliance (God) hit, and I said, "this song talks about God's love for us. It is so big like this (insert hand gesture for deep) and so big like this (insert hand gesture for wide), and it pours like a river. They all nodded their heads in obvious understanding.  I couldn't believe it.  I was thrilled!! To be moving into explaining things to people in Moru - and having them get it - HOLY MOLY how exciting!!!

Afternoons are filled with such activities and victories. Reading my little Moru primers to the kids as they sit in rapt attention on my lap or around me. Hardly anyone has books here, let alone children, so it's not like kids get read to at bedtime, or any other time for that matter.  They LOVE it. And they love the personal attention and interaction, that is neither chore-related, nor school-related. I sing the songs I learned as a kid, and teach the hand clapping games that go along with them. 'Cece my playmate', 'Coca Cola', 'My boyfriend took me to the candy store', 'Great green globs . . .' We have our little tickle games, and the funny faces we always make at each other. This week I taught five year old Äpi how to wash the dishes, and gave him the responsibility for breakfast dishes several mornings a week. He was so proud and diligent. I sprinkle them all with water after I wash my hands. And say I'm going to eat them as I pretend to munch on their ears. And all of it makes me think of Jesus, when the disciples were annoyed that the kids were smothering him.  "Let the little children come to me."  I spend a fair amount of time getting annoyed with the smothering myself. But on this home-stay, I'm getting a big and bewitching gulp of being able to move beyond. To welcome, love, and invest in children as Jesus welcomes, loves, and invests in me. And it is beautifully life-giving.