Uncategorized

Mud Butt Strikes Again!

Saturday, February 12, 2005
Mud Butt Strikes Again!

Mud Butt Strikes Again!
Saturday, February 12, 2005Today is the day that we have decided to go on a walking safari in Arusha National Park. Christy, Sonja, Jessica and I have arranged with our new friends John and Anton, to hire a Range Rover for the day. The truck is owned by Hans, a friend of John and Anton, and he picked us up at eight this morning. We rolled down the windows and took turns passing around our Ipods, sharing our different tastes in music and laughing as we danced in our seats. We sped through small villages, where people lined the road selling all manner of things. Saturday is market day in all of the small villages and everyone was out enjoying the day.
The sky was blue and a nice cool breeze was blowing as we pulled into Arusha National Park. The plan was to drive through the park til we got to the trail section, hire a guide, and see what we could see. We had not been in the park ten minutes, though, when all of the sudden, Hans slammed to a stop. We all looked up to see a herd of giraffes crossing the road in front of us. Oh My………….
There were probably ten or so of them, and they were right in front of our car! And were they beautiful?! They were graceful and elegant, and frankly, I had to pinch myself to make sure that I wasn’t dreaming! That was only the beginning, and before we even got to the parking area for our hike, we had seen monkeys, wart hogs, gazelles, water buffalo, and zebra. Yes, Christine….I saw a Zebra for you!! I hope that my pictures turn out!
I would have been very happy with that, but we still had a hike to do, so we drove on til we came to the ranger station. We were required to hire a ranger for 20.00, and when he walked up with a rifle longer than he was tall, I understood why. This was no zoo, nor was it Disneyland. We were visiting the animal’s home, and there was nothing to protect us from them without the ranger along . Our ranger’s name was Aulied, and his rifle has a crudely-carved stock, and looked about a thousand years old. As he talked to us, his gun swung around indiscriminantly, and after I ducked for the third time to avoid being in the line of fire, I asked him how many tourists he had shot by mistake! Luckily, he said none, so I decided to place my safety in his hands and off we went. We hiked over a small river and though a bog before finding ourselves right up against another herd of giraffes. We were so close to them, and they seemed very content. If one of us got too close, they just wandered away. After whispered exclamations and pictures all around, we continued on. We walked by a herd of water buffalo and Aulied explained to us that if there are only one or two water buffalo, it is very dangerous, but if there are more, then it is not.
Soon, we climbed up a ridgeline and over into a ravine. We walked along until the ravine came to a dead end. From 100 feet above, a waterfall fell from the rocks and we took turns dancing in the rainbows created by the falls. The water was cold and clear, and it was shady in the ravine. It turned out to be a beautiful place for a rest, so we all sat on rocks and talked. I teased the guys about having girlfriends, and watch Hans and Aulied try to climb the rocks.
It was beautiful and relaxing, and all of us hated to get going, but go we must. Aulied had to get back to another group and we had more animals to see! As we walked along the stream created by the falls, shadows and sun mixed with hundreds of tiny white butterflies. It was truly idyllic until Aulied held up his hand for silence. There he was…….. a water buffalo standing all by himself. We could tell that Aulied was taking this very seriously and we followed him off of the path, out of the way of the buffalo. Unfortunately, ‘out of the way’ led straight into a bog! Small clumps of grass were all that separated our dry feet from a knee-deep soaking in slimy mud, and Aulied explained that we needed to step exactly where he did. He pointed at me and said ,”You first!”. This is not fair!!! Didn’t he know about my reputation for grace and finesse when it came to hiking around mud?!?! But, he didn’t care. He pointed down at a tiny clump of grass, grabbed my hand, and motioned for me to go. Go, I did………into the knee-deep mud! You had to know it was going to happen! That would not have been so bad except I started laughing and fell in with my other foot! Now I was knee-deep in the mud with BOTH legs, and I could not stop laughing! John and Anton each grabbed a hand and started pulling, but this stuff was like cement! I was crying from laughter, they were pulling, I was getting deeper, and no progress was being made! Finally, I stopped laughing long enough to tell them to stop pulling me, and was able to step out of the mire. Now I was black from the knees down, but I didn’t mind! It’s not like I haven’t been this way before! But, Aulied would not stand for it. He grabbed a bottle, dipped it in the giardia-infested, water buffalo water and proceeded to pour it all over my legs and feet. While he was pouring the third bottle-full, I realized that he was using MY water bottle!!! Ugh!! Well, so much for that bottle!!! In any case, I was soon reasonably clean and we hiked the rest of the way back to the car. We were all tired and sun burned, but very happy.
When we got back to the car, we sat under some trees and ate lunch, each passing around what we had brought. Wilfred, our cook, had made us wonderful box lunches, so we passed around chicken, samosas, potatoes, and sandwiches. I held up a black round thing and asked what it was. Turns out it was a passion fruit! Anton showed me how to peel and eat it, and I have to say, it was really good! It tasted like all of those passion fruit-flavored candies you have ever eaten, only better!
After cleaning up the remnants of our lunch, we headed for Arusha to go to the market. We were about ten minutes from town when a very loud chuga-chuga sound started coming from the truck, and it started jerking back and forth.
Uh-oh…..this didn’t look good! I read a book that said that all of the cars in Tanzania are old and tend to break down a lot, and that breaking down was just part of the adventure, so I settled back to see what was in store for us. Not ten minutes had passed when another Range Rover pulled over and stopped. It turns out that the driver was one of Anton’s friends, and he had seen us at Arusha. He was taking a gentleman from Colorado to the Park the same time we were there, and he recognized our truck on the side of the road. Minutes later, we were all piled in his car headed for the market. Hans stayed with the truck with promises to pick us up when he had fixed it.
When we arrived at the market in Arusha, we said goodbye to our wonderful rescuer. As he took off, we turned to see about fifty Tanzanians staring at us from their respective booths and blankets. We walked two steps and the air filled with the sounds of Masai women shouting, “Sister….sister….come look here….I have children to feed……my favorite sister…….”. It was something else!!! As I started to peruse the booths, I decided that it was time to get my feet wet when it came to buying stuff Bongo-style. Bartering here is a very important way of life. If you try to buy without bartering, they really won’t let you. They prod you with sentences like, “I say 20,000, and now you come back with a lower price and we will meet in the middle”. It is hysterical! I have my own moral dilemma because arguing over the difference of two dollars with a person, knowing that that two dollars can make a serious difference in their day, takes all of the fun out of it for me. However, Anton pulled me aside and assured me that they weren’t going to sell me anything without making a profit that they were happy with, so off I went.
I must say, I was pretty darn good at it! Even Anton was impressed when he found out how much I paid for stuff!! My first day here, I heard a man from New York bragging on the Masai tribal cloth that he had purchased. He said that the Masai wanted 50 dollars for it and he got it for $35. I only paid $6 for mine, so I don’t know what HE was doing!  The best thing, though, was the last purchase of the day. I wanted some little beaded boxes from the Masai women to bring home for souveneirs. As soon as I started talking to one of the women, I was surrounded by five women saying, “My sister….my sister…” and pulling on me. I put my hands in the air and went, “Yi…yi…yi!” very loudly. They all burst out laughing and settled down. I explained to them that if we could all come up with a price that I liked, then I would buy one from each of them. They all scrambled for their blankets and began filling my hands with boxes. We all laughed as we traded boxes for money, and everyone was happy. Who says you need to speak the same language to communicate?!
Anton came over to say that Hans had the truck ready and was coming to get us, so with loud good-byes, we left the Arusha market and its wonderful vendors. I really hope to go back one day! The drive home was long and quiet. Everyone’s iPods had died and we all sat back soaking in the warmth from our sunburn as we watched the sun set on Mount Kiliminjaro. The sky was full of deep purples and the smell of hay and maize filled the air. My eyes burned with a mixture of dust and tears. I am in Africa.

Love, Anna
“When all is said and done here at the ending of the day, I look out on this world and it still takes my breath away…”
“Robin’s Song” Small Potatoes

Anna aka Mud Butt

Why am I in Africa?

Saturday, February 12, 2005
Preface

Preface:There are several reasons why I am in Africa working with children. First, I have baby fever BAD!! I want a baby! And since I have not found Mr. Right yet, I figured I better make good use of all the love I have to give and come where it might be needed! second, I saw Oprahs special on giving Christmas to children in South Africa a year ago. I knew that I could not do somthing that big, but that I could do something, so this is it!
Last, but not least, I spent many years reading AT books before I finally said “I am tired of reading about these people, I want to become one of them”. Along the same lines, I have spent years reading books about women who travel the world and follow their hearts. I got tired of reading about those women and decided that I was going to be one of them. So far, it is really working for me!
I am in Moshi, Tanzania for almost four weeks working through an organization called Cross Cultural Solutions. It is kind of a mini-stint in the Peace Corps, (their words, not mine). It is a group that works to better a communtiy through involvement and forming self-sustainable programs, rather than just one time donations. I am really proud to be here, and am loving it! Hello to all and I will be home soon!!! Love, Anna aka MudButt

(Transcriber’s note: Quote that crossed the desktop this morning, and seemed to directly apply:

“When you are inspired by some great purpose, some extraordinary project, all your thoughts break their bonds; your mind transcends limitations, your consciousness expands in every direction, and you find yourself in a new, great and wonderful world. Dormant forces, faculties and talents become alive, and you discover yourself to be a greater person by far than you ever dreamed yourself to be.”
— Patanjali (c. 1st to 3rd century BC)

Anna aka Mud Butt

Africa Questions

Friday, February 11, 2005
Your Africa Questions

So now is the time to answer all of your questions! This is the email that
tells you everything you wanted to know, (and didn’t care to know!) about living
in Africa!!First, though, a disclaimer……
The volunteers here at CCS live like kings and queens. I am not kidding. Everything I tell you about my own personal living situation might sound really different from the US, but it is a great deal better than any of our neighbors here in the village have!

Food:
The food we eat at the CCS house is fabulous! When they described it, it sounded like a hoity-toity restaurant that caters to the rich and famous. “All locally grown, seasonal, organic vegetables and fruits, along with fresh meat that is absent of any and all chemicals and steroids.”. Can you imagine! Actually, the food is very earthy. Breakfast is just bread and fruit and peanut butter, so I start each day with a peanut butter sandwich. The peanut butter is not like home, though.
It is runny and gritty and threatens to glue my mouth shut each morning. I think
it is how peanut butter is supposed to be. Two days a week, the cook gets eggs
from some of our neighbors, but I have not tried them yet. Every other one has
already been fertilized so you know these are the real things! Coffee is instant
so I have pretty much given up on that. I do miss good coffee!! And the milk is
unpasterized, whole milk, for those that drink it. (Not me!)
Lunch and dinner are pretty much treated the same way. There are usually two
or three casserole dishes made of potatoes or pasta, beans, and vegetables, sometimes
with a bit of meat mixed in. There is alway Ugali, which is the main staple of
the Tanzanian diet. Ugali is like the stiffest, blandest mashed potatoes you have
ever had. It really has no taste, but tastes like whatever you eat it with. The
typical way to eat it is to scoop a dollop up in your right hand, (very important- do not eat with your left hand!) and use it as a type of spoon to scoop up a stew.
I have had it several times and I like it.

The best part of the meals is the avocado and the fruit. We have fresh avocado at least once a day and it is soooo good! But the bananas, watermelon, pineapple, and mango are really amazing!!! Several people have given me mangos as gifts and they are like tasting heaven! The Tanzanians do not really do dessert, so except for the fruit, there is nothing sweet to speak of. You can buy candy bars at a few places in town, but it is too hot for me to eat chocolate!
Needless to say, our neighbors are not starving, but live on a very limited diet.
They get quite a few fresh fruits and veggies, and many of them own chickens and
livestock, so that is where they get their meat and dairy. I have not seen any
cheese at all, and needless to say, there is no such thing as fast food!

Weather:
It is unbelievable hot.

Money:
In Tanzania they use Tanzanian Shillings for currency, but most places will
also accept US dollars. However, things cost more if you pay in US. There is aproximately
1,020 shillings to the dollar, but for the sake of description, I will use only
US dollars. Prices are, for the most part, extremely low. An example of my daily
expenses:
Internet- $1 per hour
Beer- 70 cents per large bottle
Samosas for lunch- 30 cents apiece
Dala dala ride (bus)- 20 cents
Diet Coke- $2

Wait a minute!? Did I say $2 for a diet coke!?!? You bet I did! Anything sold
to a muzungu (white person) is at least twice the price, and since no self-respecting African would drink diet coke, they charge extra!

Everything and anything is negotiable, pricewise. No one would ever expect you
to pay the first price they quoted you, however there is a mzungu price and a local price. When someone tells me the price of something, I look at them and say “Muzungo bei….hapana!” which means ‘white person price…no!’. Then they laugh and give me a lower price.

It is fun, but when it comes to serious souvenier buying,
I take one of my new african friends and let them do the negotiating for me.
That has worked out beautifully because my Swahili is nowhere near good enough to
go into the market!! Any time I go in, I get surrounded by merchants shouting at
me, which is a little tiresome after the first few times, so it is best to take
a local friend. They just chase the merchants away!
Weather:
It is unbelievable hot.
Bathroom/Shower Facilities

Remember how I said we live like kings and queens? Well, we do. Keeping that
in mind…..the facilities are not what we are used to!! The toilets are the same,
but there is no water pressure, so they don’t really flush. As a result, you have
to put all toilet paper in a trash can. It is interesting. Most homes and businesses,
however, have a latrine of some sort. The guys won’t let us go in the one at Deo’s,
so I have no idea what they are like. However, at the school I am teaching at,
there is just a bucket with sheets draped around it.
The shower is a shower. But, due to water pressure, only a trickle comes out.
So we have a large bucket in the shower stall and I wet my hair with the water running
out, and as the bucket fills up, I shampoo. I use a beautiful handmade wash cloth
that the Carter women gave me to scrub everything, and when I am done, I dump the
bucket over my head. I have to say, it does the trick!
Brushing teeth, we simply have to use bottled water. One guy has already messed
up and brushed his teeth with the tap water and as a result, spent a good part of
the evening in discomfort. We do not drink the water.

Weather:
It is unbelievable hot.
Transportation:
We have a CCS van that takes us to and from our placements each morning, and
we stuff it full of people!!! It is a 12 person van, and we routinely have 19-20
in it. There are very, very few seatbelts in Africa! However, since 99% of the
roads are dirt with HUGE pot holes, we rarely get over 30 mph, so it is quite safe!
In our free time we have three options. Walk, Dala-dala, or taxi. The Dala-dala
is also a 12 person van, but they routinely stuff 25-30 people inside. The rule
is, ‘there is always room for one more!’. When they go down the street, you will
often see people hanging off the sides and men sticking out of the windows. It
is hysterical! I have not been on one yet, but I am planning to take one back to
the house after this email so I will let you know how it goes!
The taxis are their own form of amusement! The other day when we were in the
market, our Tanzanian friends agreed to help us get a taxi. As soon as we walked
up to the taxi stand, we were surrounded by me yelling at us and holding their respective
car doors open. Anton, one of our friends, said, we will go to the next one, so
we walked down another block. He put us in a taxi and off we went.
Here is where it gets really interesting!!! Now, here in Tanzania, people drive
on the left-hand side of the road….kind of. Seeing as how all of the roads are
dirt, and littered with HUGE potholes, (did I mention that they are HUGE!!?), the
general rule is to drive on the best part of the road. It very often turns out
that they best part of the road is the sidewalk. I am not kidding. So we get in
this taxi and take off towards Rau. The driver is going about 30 mph and veering
wildly all over this wide, wide dirt road. Women with huge baskets of bananas on
top of their heads are getting out of our way quickly as we lurch down the road.
The ashtray falls out of the door, the window is rattling like crazy, and from the
back of the cab, all I can hear is this loud ‘chucka-chucka-chucka’. After our
third foray onto the sidewalk, and our first into someones actual front yard, I
started laughing uncontrollaby. The funnist thing is, this is not unusual in the
slightest!!! We made it home safely, and it was the most delightful ride of my
life! Oh…and it cost $2.

Weather:
It is unbelievable hot.

Well, I hope that has answered some of your questions! Life here is wild and
crazy and lonely and frustrating, and, most of all, fullfilling. Thank you all
for your emails….they are lifting me up!!!! I love you!!! Anna

Anna aka Mud Butt

Mimi na kupenda wewe…..

Thursday, February 10, 2005
Mimi na kupenda wewe…..

Mimi na kupenda wewe…………That means “I love you” in Swahili, and I said to every child I saw. Even the ones that peed, poo-ed, and even worse, bit me! So, last night, after our Swahili lesson, I talked to Fulgence, one of the men that works with CCS. Andrew did opt out of Kilamahewa School, and I just think that is where I belong, so I asked him if I could go there. He said “Of course! You can go anywhere you want to!!”, so we made plans for me to go back to the orphanage today and to talk to Sister Immaculata so that she would know what I was doing. When we dropped off Andrew for his last day at Kilamahewa, I looked at the school and knew that I was doing the right thing.
With a deep breath, I headed for the orphanage and another day of babies.
Today I went directly to the playground and spent the morning under a pile of babies. It was great! And, yes, I am covered in all matter of things, but it doesn’t matter to me! There is a special needs boy, Phillipe, probably about two years old with a huge smile and big giant eyes. He makes a bee-line for me whenever he sees me with arms open wide. Then he proceeds to grab my hair and pull as hard as he can! One of the nurses (they are actually all young teen-age girls that live at the orphanage) actually walked up to me and handed me one of my hairs that she had pried out of a babys hand! Lucy is a little girl with braces on her feet and an old yellow party dress that someone, probably from America, donated to the orphanage. Eric is the color of latte, has huge golden eyes and is the one that ran up to me yesterday when I got out of the van. There are thirty more babies tumbling like puppies in this yard of dirt, dust and a few dilapadated playground items. A couple of them are scared of the mzungu, (white people) but most just want us to wrap our arms around them. I sit in the dirt with my arms wrapped around as many of them as possible singing, “Twinkle, twinle little star…” to them. I whisper over and over, “mimi na kupenda wewe….mimi na kupendo wewe…”, as they lay in a jumble in my arms. Each time I feel a tiny hand on my arm or stomache, I just hug them all tighter. After ten or fifteen minutes, they get up to play and a new batch moves in. My heart is broken into a million pieces.
After potty time, (for the most part completely unsuccessful because they had already all peed on me!) we all washed our hands and went inside for milk, and then, lunch. Once more. I took care of feeding Michael. As he ate, I alternated snapping and clapping behind his head to check to see if he was deaf. One of the women at the CCS compound is a doctor and she said that deafness was very common with infant menengitis. He responds beautifully though, and after milk, I take the opportunity to try and manipulate his left arm and leg. The sisters said that at first he could not hold his head up at all, but now he can, so I think there might be some hope for further mobility. It is not much, but a little movement couldnt’ hurt.
The end of lunch signals the approach of the CCS van for us, so I went to find Sister Immaculata. She was nowhere to be found, so I ended up talking to one of the other nuns. Before I could get a single word out, I just started crying. I feel completely torn in two. I try to explain to her through my tears that I just feel called to Kilamahewa School, and that I love Upendo and the children, but that I think that I am doing the right thing. I have only been there two days and I am devestated. She was wonderful and said that I could come any time, not just in the morning like normal, so I felt a little better. If I can split some of my days between the school and the orphanage, I would be happy. Emotionally, this is all just completely overwhelming…….
After a quiet ride back to town, Christy and I had Simon drop us off in Moshi. I need to change money and send email, so here I am. I am going to attempt a bit of shopping before going back for another Swahili lesson. Another day in Tanzania is passing quickly.

 

Anna aka Mud Butt

Houston, we have a problem……

Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Houston, we have a problem……

Houston, we have a problem……………..Today is finally the day, I am going to see babies!!!!!!! I am very excited, and a little nervous. Last night, I read the log book here that the workers at Upendo Childrens Home have been writing in, and reports are very discouraging. Stories of unsanitary conditions and alleged abuse make me very concerned for what I might see. It does not scare me away from wanting to work there, but the negativity in the messages is a little off-putting!
At 7:30 in the morning, we all piled into the CCS van and Simon, the driver, took us all to our various placements. One girl is going to a kindergarden, several girls are going to the local clinic, one of the guys is going to a youth arts workshop, and four of us to the orphanage. We were at our next to last stop when my heart went into my throat. Andrew, one of the young men here, is volunteering at Kilamahewa School, and we dropped him off before going on to the orphanage. I had been told a little about the school, but I was unprepared for what I saw. Literally, a one-room mud hut in the middle of a large dusty field. It usually holds 70-80 children.
Let that sink in for just a moment………………70-80 children in a room no bigger than 15×15. They are ages 3-10. That, however, is not the amazing thing! The teacher is a man named Mr. Massawe. He was too poor to send his children to school, so he began to teach them in his home. Word spread quickly and children from all over the area that were also too poor to attend school began coming to his house (that would be the aforementioned mud hut). He took them in and Kilamahewa School was born. That is the amazing thing.
When Andrew approached the kids, they all chanted out “Hibari” to him as the teacher directed them with his arms. He was waving at them and smiling madly. I was about fifty feet away, sitting in the van, and I was immediately covered in goosebumps. You know how sometimes, you don’t know why, and you don’t know how, but you just KNOW that you are in the right place at the right time. Every fiber of my soul told me that THIS was where I was supposed to be. I wanted to yell at Andrew to come back and let me go instead. As the van pulled away, my eyes filled with tears. This was definitly NOT in the plans!!!
Soon, though, we arrived at the orphanage. I stepped out of the van and an eighteen month old boy ran to me with outstretched arms. I swooped him up and told everyone, “Ok, I am done….I got what I came for!” We were taken to meet Sister Immaculata, the nun in charge of the home, and I took the boy with me. I mean, how could I put him down?! The sister was very gracious as she welcomed us into her office, and introduced herself. I asked her what her expectations were for the volunteers and she just said to love the children as much as possible. Hmmmmm, I don’t think that will be difficult!
After our meeting, the other volunteers disappeared, and the sister took me on a little tour. We went into the nursery where I met Michael, a little boy that had become half-paralyized by menengitis. As he grinned up at me, I just wanted to swoop him up and take him home! I spent the morning with the pre-toddlers, (babies that are just starting to walk), and before long, it was tea time. Rather than milk, they got a sweet, hot tea, and the nurse and I fed them from plastic cups. There are no sippie cups, or bottles…..just regular drinking cups, so they hold a plastic bowl under the babys chin and have them drink. When the extra drips into the bowl, they just pour it back into the cup and keep going. It is kind of amazing!
After tea, a few of the other nurses brought in all of the boys, aged 16 months to two and a half years.
Now it was milk time! Again, they drink out of regular cups, and it is the cutest thing you ever saw! As I looked at all of these little African babies with milk all over their faces, I thought, the milk industry has no idea……this is my idea of a “Got Milk?” ad!!!!
They play for a while and I become a human jungle gym. It is official…..I am a human story-teller doll! I have been peed on, pooped on, snotted on, milk-ed on, and minutes later…..beaned and riced upon! I cannot tell you how happy I was! After a little more play time, they boys sat down for lunch. Bowls of hot beans and rice were bought out and all but the littlest ones were given spoons. A nurse brought in Michael and strapped him into a chair. It turns out that there is one sippie cup here and it is his. Using a bowl to catch the dripping, I feed him while he looks up at me with huge brown eyes fringed in the longest lashes I have ever seen. I put the bown and cup down to pull another little boy off of me, (he has both of his hands firmy entwined in my hair and his teeth sunk into my arm), and Michael deftly turns the bowl of milk over. He smiles and laughs and laughs. Oh man….this is great.
As for the conditions at the orphanage, I think the nuns are doing an incredible job with the resources that they have. There are 55 or so children here, and in a country with rampant disease and poverty, they are doing their best to give them a safe environment. They are fed and clothed (after a fashion) and I am very, very impressed. All of the babies have on used, hand-me down clothes, and none of them wear diapers. there is a half-hearted attempt to potty-train them from the moment they start walking, and I can tell you, it is not working very well! Mostly, the kids pee where they want, (including on me!), and if a nurse sees them with wet pants, she takes them and sits them on a little plastic pot. The picture of three or four little babies sitting on pots out on the playground is absoulutely precious, but I don’t think they are getting the idea! No one wears underwear, so when you notice a suspicious smell, you just start going around a pulling the back of their pants out to investigate. It is kind of like playing that game, ‘where is the button’. They have no kleenex or anything, so as far as sanitation is concerned,…well, there isn’t alot. But, again, the nuns are doing much better than many of the village families are able to do, so my heart really goes out to them. I think that the earlier volunteers that wrote in the log book might have had unrealistic expectations of the orphanage.
As far as toys go, there is a very small assortment of old, plastic pieces of toys littered about the playground. The children love them, and constantly give them to me, just to here me say, “Asante sana….Sawa!!!!” and hand them back. The other volunteers are a little shocked and saddened at the lack of toys, but as far as I can see, the babies are so happy! I think any mother will tell you that a two year old will get equal amounts of delight out of a barbie and a wooden kitchen spoon. It is really something to see.
When the bus finally comes to pick us up, I am exhausted. But even more so, I am happy. I am carrying a thousand smiles back with me after only one day. so how could I ever be unhappy! However, all day long, I could not get Kilamahewa School out of my mind. I love all children. I love them all, but my plans were to come take care of babies! As we were riding back to the house, I heard Andrew talking about asking for a change of assignment. It turns out that he has no teaching experience at all, and feels somewhat overwhelmed at Kilamahewa School. That would leave the school with only one volunteer three days a week. The orphanage has at least five everyday. I just have this overwhelming feeling that the universe is telling me that that is where I belong. I am going to sit with it for a while before I make my decision…….

Anna aka Mud Butt