Welcome to the land of imagination:
Where piles of mud turn into intricately crafted motor vehicles that can race in the mud rink all designed by ruddy little hands hungry for a toy. (The one pulling a trailer was not the best for racing but by far the best craftsmanship.)
Where three black stones, three white stones, and some dirt can make for a game repeated for hours on end. A cross between chess and tic tac toe, the playing board is drawn in the dirt and your colored pieces have to make three in a row by sliding into spaces the opponent has not blocked.
Where two four-year-olds grab either end of a 10 foot log and carry it to rest wedged atop a large rock. They then sit on either side jumping up and down—a homemade seesaw.
Where an iron-barred door is an invitation to three-year-old girls who stand their tiny feet between its bars and grip tight with their tiny hands to be swung with the door, open and closed, all the while giggling with excitement yelling “Wooooo!”
Where an old empty plastic water bottle becomes a prized possession. You take it to the well and fill it with water, drink a little, and then carry it off to splash on all your friends who are eager to feel the cool sprinkle in the unrelenting heat of the day. Alternatively, you can pour it in the dirt to make mud pies.
Where a baby onesie functions as a perfectly adequate shirt for your skinny four year old if you leave the buttons hanging down.
Where gender specific clothing is not a thing. If shopping for clothing is not a feasible option, hand-me-downs do the trick. So what if the boy wears pink and flowers? So what if the girl wears blue with a truck? Its still a shirt.
When diapers are too large of an expense, naked works too. Then they can go wherever they want. Your rag can wipe it up and then be washed again.
Where silverware shan’t be found, hands always work.
Where there are no hot pads, a stick can take off the hot lid of a pot.
Where there are not sponges, you can rip off the corner of a woven potato sack to scrub.
Where there is no sidewalk chalk (and no sidewalks), charcoal writes just fine on bricks.
Where your head is just as good a surface as any to sit a 5 gallon bucket of water.
As we struggle to get on their level, we attempt some creativity of our own. Through our experimentation, the conclusions are as follows:
Tickling never gets old.
Teaching one another songs in your respective languages requires no supplies.
Kicking rocks is a fun game.
Bringing children’s books with pictures for them to look at is akin to kid’s excitement over going to the movies back home.
A bottle of cheap nail polish will make you really popular and gain you a very long line in no time.
Wearing sunglasses is not only functional but WAY cool. Everyone will try them on.
Bring some good dance music, and they will be happy to teach you some new moves.
If you have a camera, be prepared to hear “Shoot me! Shoot me!” You will end up taking all of their pictures.
If you have a back, it will be climbed on.
If you have arms, they will be pulled on.
If you have legs, they will be clung to.
All are viable toys.
Their innovation has us beat by a long shot. I look at each of these precious, creative faces and I can’t help but see The Creator through them.
Made in His own image, we are able to see aspects of God in one another. I sit here in my sweat and dirt, surrounded by little ones and mud trucks, and I cannot just give the label “deprivation” or “poverty” when they are so rich in the Lord. They have His Creativity!
Thanks for teaching me Swazi babies.
