Red Dirt Roads and Smiles

The whole time we have been here, we have never seen another white person. Some of the younger children are afraid of us, and the older children hold onto their younger siblings timidly as we pass along the road.

I went to the market to buy mangos, and I bought them in Swahili.  All the women laughed and crowded around me, asking me questions. “Kwa nini unajua Kiswahili?” (Why do you know Swahili?) they asked, and some of them invited us to their houses.  Others came over, all with these huge inquisitive smiles. They say that there are certain moments in life that make all the rest of the moments worthwhile, and this was one of those perfect moments. Hands full of mangos and mouths full of corn we bought for 10 cents, we made our way along the red dirt road, saying hi to everyone we passed, a growing trail of children following behind us. “How are you?” we ask? “How are you?” they repeat in a nasally high voice. Apparently, they say that Americans talk through their noses. But we just laugh and talk to each other in a high nasally voice, and the children laugh.

 We taught art lessons today, and the 5^th grade painted with the watercolors Esther brought. I love walking into class. They children all clap and smile, and say “Hello Madam Laura! How are you?” They painted a sign saying Wema Children’s Centre, and tomorrow we will take a picture with the orphans, and we will use the picture for the top banner on the website we are working to create.

Now the sun has set and we are once again without electricity. It is unusually cool tonight, and I put on a sweater to keep warm. All of our cameras have stopped working, and Alex went into town to charge the computer for three hours. They say we will have electricity tomorrow. We will see.