Saturday, June 28, 2008
A wee bit homesick but gotta love the kids
Two more days in Yei. I think I'm ready to go. Wait, I KNOW, I'm ready to go. The long hot days are making me a bit delirious, but no fear, I'm still finding ways to smile and have back aching laughs. I've been staying at the CTC, Crop Training Center, that 1/4 of a mile off the Yei-Juba road at the end a cul de sac. Just before the entrance gate is a small path that leads towards a small village consisting of 15 tukuls on the left handside. About 1/2 down there is a road that is a short cut over to what we call non profit row. UNHCR, ARC, NPA and UMCOR all have their headquarters on this road. I usually take this back way to avoid the main road where Boda Boda drivers love to hiss at the white girl, "Sissstta, Boda boad-ride for free sista." I'd rather not thank you. My legs work just fine. So I take this back way to be less conspicuous. Ha right. Last week I was leisurely strolling the short cut, strategizing how to get across the small pond that was created after the early morning rain. As I made my way across and began to summit a small hill I heard the call.
KAWAAJA! KAWAAJA! (white person)
I hear the watchman make his call. All of a sudden little dark bodies, some naked, some dressed in over size shirts, all screaming and laughing came stampeding out of nowhere. KAWAAJA! KAWAJA! Just writing this, I have to pause and laugh. It is honestly a site I will hold dear to my heart, since I feel like a celebrity everytime it happens. Their excitment is a little ubsurd and hysterical but an absolute delightful to see. I liken it to those vidoes where people are getting squashed, crying and sobbing at concerts trying to touch Michael Jackson or Bono. Their beautiful little bodies get as tight as fiddle strings and they can barely breath. They run after me smiling, shouting, "kawaaja, kawaaja how are you? how are you? I am fine!" They all extend there tiny little hands so I can shake and greet them. They do it over and over and over until I eventually make my way past their territory. "Bye Bye Kawaaja" they yell. I turn around and smile and watch as passers by say,"they love to practice their English."