The Kingdom of Swaziland…
there is something special about this place that I can’t quite put my finger on. In the strangest of ways it reminds me of home.. and when I say home, I mean a mixture of Mexico and Ohio. There is something about driving through the mountains and the grassy hills and valleys that seems so familiar and comfortable. It makes me miss home.
I have been living in Ntabas, a short drive by local transport from the main city called Manzini. My team of 6 and another team of 6 are sharing a small guesthouse on a hill. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, a small kitchen, and a dining room table and couch. We take turns cleaning and making dinner. Sometimes the power goes out and we wear headlamps to continue cooking on the gas stove. We eat dinner every night together, once in a while by candlelight because of the power outages. I set up my hammock away from the house for the times that I need to get away. I started sleeping outside in my hammock, which was truly glorious. There is something so peaceful about not being contained in a building, falling asleep to the sounds of nature under the beautiful african starry night sky. After a week of sleeping outside, I was told it probably wasn’t safe so unfortunately had to start sleeping inside again. I spend much of my free time still sitting out in my little cocoon – praying, writing, and contemplating.
During the week, we get picked up and taken to a care point a short drive away. Care points are usually a small building where women cook a big pot of food for the kids that come after school. There is a playground where we run around and play with all the kids. Sometimes we do games, teach lessons, but usually we just play and tickle them to do death. Its hard when you don’t know the backgrounds of the kids. Sometimes you can make guesses based on what you observe of their physical appearance or behavior, but we as volunteers really just don’t know. Often times they come in the same clothes as the days before, sometimes have wounds, maybe they are coming to the care point to receive their only meal of the day.. you never know. All I know to do is to take care of their happiness while I have the opportunity. All I know to do is make sure they they laugh as much as they possibly can and that they are taken care and feel loved are prayed for in the couple of hours I get to spend with them.
I had the opportunity of visiting a hospital. I spent time in the children’s ward, where there were different areas of a big room dedicated to different conditions. One had a bad snake bite, some had malaria, some pneumonia, some asthma or lung infections, three kids who all fell out of a tree together and each broke an arm. There was a room off to the side where there were a few more critical conditions – those suffering from malnourishment, premature birth, or little ones just struggling to take a breath – being watched closely by their families. It hurt to see the pain on the faces of the family. While the mothers stay there with their children, they sleep on cardboard on the floor next to their children’s beds. As I left, I passed the maternity ward, where soon-to-be-mothers were crouched and hunched over, waiting to give birth at any moment. There was such a stark contrast between that little room of the suffering children to the awaited arrival of new life. We went around and talked to the families, played with the kids, and prayed.
By the weekend, my precious parents will be on their way to Africa to visit me. We will finally be able to just sit in each others presence and really talk. We also have the privilege of getting to do ministry together. I can hardly wait to see them next week. Wednesday couldn’t come sooner. Please be praying for them as they travel and spend time here.
So much love to you all.
