The sky was beautifully blue with giant, puffy white clouds. The kind you only see in movies. The wind was blowing gently across the land as I walked hand in hand with two of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever met. One toddles her way through the grass, the other struts her stuff as she rocks her new princess heels she got for Christmas. The sun was warm on our faces, the dusty road dry beneath our feet, and my heart was full.
Bubbles float by my head as I walk around the yard with a baby on each hip. Kids run every which way as high-pitched giggles erupt from their little bodies. As they chase down each bubble, they jump and climb on anything they can find to pop them before they escape and reach the fence. It’s pure chaos and pure joy. At the last second I turn to see my favorite little boy standing on top of the play structure. A single bubble is floating nearer and nearer to him. Just before he jumps to pop it, he shoves his little fist in the air and shouts “This is for my people!” We all start laughing and watch as he bursts the bubble into nothingness.
The sun has finally gone down and all of the babies are in bed except for one. She’s over-tired and refuses to go to sleep. I sit in the dark rocking her back and forth while the T.V. from the other room throws shadows across her face. She just stares up at me with those big eyes, and in that moment I know she has seen far more than her 18 month old eyes ever should have. I hug her tight to me, thankful that she is safe now. That she is here and that she is loved. That the life from before is now behind her.
I’m somewhere between waking and sleeping. I keep hearing my name; not sure if it’s real life or simply in my dreams. As I drift more towards consciousness I hear it more clearly. “BLETTE!! BLETTE! Wake up Blette!” A grin stretches across my face. I clumsily climb out of my bunk bed; my hair still a mess and my teeth unbrushed. But they won’t care. I step out of my door and my morning greeting party is waiting. The babies. Once one sees me, more come running. “Blette, watch this!” “Blette, come here!” “Hi Blette!” “Blette, I want sweets!”
My day has begun.
Screaming, screeching and arms frantically flying as the bugs rage war against us. The giant beetle that is so cliché Africa runs itself into the light only to propel itself faster back toward us. We scream and dive under our covers. Again and again this happens until finally someone gets the courage to swat it out of the air. It lets out its disgusting smell and although we are absolutely terrified we have fallen into fits of giggles that won’t stop. We are literally only beetle-free for seconds before we see the tarantula sized spider crawl down the wall. At this point we scream, give up and run from the room laughing so hard we can’t breathe. This is Africa.
So much excitement in the air you can almost taste it. Every where you look there are little groups of kids, waiting expectantly and doing anything they can to pass the time until presents. It’s Christmas at the orphanage. So many presents under the tree because loving people have donated their money. Priceless grins are stretched across each kids face as their name is called to retrieve their present. Wrapping paper litters the ground as they tear through their gifts. All day long there are little girls walking their new baby dolls, little boys shooting toy dart guns at each other while the older boys play with their new soccer ball. Flashes of bright color fly by as each kid runs around showing off their new outfits. When you compliment them they cover their mouth and giggle; the excitement bursting through. You try and get a grip on your emotions as you want to laugh and cry at the same time. You’ve never experienced anything like it and you know you never will again. A special day filled with precious moments, forever frozen in your memory.
The pitter patter of rain on the roof begins as you hear the thunder rumbling in the distance. You look out the window to see the sky has grown considerably darker since you came inside 15 minutes ago. You have a nagging feeling you are forgetting something…THE CLOTHES. You sprint from the chapel as you realize all of your freshly washed clothing is drying out on the line…clear on the other side of the property. You run as fast as you can, but nothing comes on faster than African rain. It starts falling faster and heavier and within seconds; you’re blind. The rain falling so thick and fast you can’t see a foot in front of you. It pelts your skin leaving a stinging sensation over your entire body. You slip and slide your way down the hill as the red dirt runs into a thousand different little streams of water. By the time you reach your clothes, you and everything you own are drenched to the bone. You stand in the hallway outside your door which has become a wind tunnel so strong it could blow you right over. And just like that, as soon as it came, it’s gone again. You’re left standing in the sunlight with mascara running down your face and a pile of soggy clothes still clutched in your arms. All you can do is laugh.
It’s only ten am and already there is a stillness in the air. The hot sun makes the kids drowsy and they all sit throughout the yard, some finding shade under the play structure while others sit drawing in the dirt. I sneak around the corner and jump out to surprise them. They startle and many stare at me. I pull two squirt guns from behind my back and yell “GAME ON. RUN!” They run around the yard, laughing as they try to avoid the streams of water. Eventually they all purposely stand two feet in front of me, knowing how good the water will feel on this hot day. We take turns squirting each other laughing and playing; the cold water providing a brief relief from the African sun.
The children push and shove each other as they fight for a spot in my lap. I look into each of their faces and as we sit there on the steps, the reality of having to leave so soon hits me. Three days left. I have three more days to love them as hard as I can. I feel my heart swell with love and my eyes fill with tears. The kids at the orphanage on the mountain have changed me forever; and I know I will never forget the month I spent with them under the African sun.
