Sunday is Washing Day

I attended church at Challenge Farm this past Sunday since I leave Kitale for the states on Monday. The service was alive and active with these new kids leading the worship songs. My smile was reaching from ear to ear watching them perform. That is what this group loves to do is perform. Each one is so expressive. I enjoy listening and watching them tell a story even though I don’t understand what they are saying. The rest of the staff and children at Challenge are just as thrilled about this new group as I am.

After our service every one began their washing clothes procedure. Many of the kids, staff and random people throughout town have been after me to wash my car. It has been a red dirt dusty mess for, well…. as long as I can recall. The dirt roads here create a nice think film coating the entire inside of the car, which didn’t really bother me at all but seemed to bother everyone else. So, I allowed the kids to wash it today, inside and out. That is the least I could do to somewhat welcome Whitney who will be arriving Kitale Wednesday. The kids did a splendid job washing every bit and even taking the floor mats out for a good scrub down. What a service? Why had I not done this every week? The kids really had a ball.

The time came to part ways for the next five weeks and it was a lot more difficult this time than it was last. I believe this is because I know I’ll be gone much longer than my previous trip. It could also be because I’ve grown closer to the kids so not seeing them for 5 weeks will be a much bigger deal. I’m worried the new little one, Sarah, won’t remember me. I have only been in her life for one week so after I’ve been gone for 3 she might just forget all about me. She did throw a pretty medium sized temper tantrum as I left which was touching to say the least. I do have that going for me. Lastly, I’m worried about returning to find that some of the new kids have run back to the street. I’ve been told that they usually average staying at a new location for one month before missing their freedom and glue. So please, along with me, keep each one of these 37 new street kids in your prayers. The enemy is wanting to remind them of how great their life was on the street so lets counter act those thoughts by prayers for God to reveal the great plan he has for their life.

Center of attention

This afternoon I went to watch five of the Challenge Farm boys play in a soccer match. They were picked as best players to participate in a best-of-game similar to our All Stars at home. I brought my friend Meredith with me.(I am currently living in her house.) As we pulled up to the primary school where the games were being held, I couldn’t believe the turn out - about 2 thousand Kenyans. I know soccer is a big sport, but I was still surprised to see this many people.

Even though a fast paced game was in full motion, people began turning slowly and staring at us as we approached. Within minutes, we had close to one thousand eyes on us. The feeling was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I didn’t know if I should freeze or do a dance. The look on their faces made me feel as though I resembled an alien or maybe wasn't wearing any clothes. We continued walking up and people just parted like the Red Sea. Kenyans began ushering us over to some benches at the front of the playing field. All the seats were previously taken, but many got up to offer their seats. We did our best to refuse the service, but they would have it no other way. I thought that after we sat down, the crowd would return to focusing on the game. After all, we are not the only whites in the area. I was wrong. I quickly felt like I was playing in the game as all the kids around us began watching us instead of the players.

When half time came, we felt as if we were the show! The kids to the left and right slowly started to move around so they could get a better look. Within five minutes, Meredith and I were completely encircled by kids and the staring began again. No one was saying anything. The only sound was us giggling at how funny we felt. The kids continued to take a gander at us for about 10 min. Another Kenyan woman began running after them with a stick threatening to cane them if they didn't stop gawking. Soccer began again and we were back to picture taking and cheering. The greatest moment of the game came when one of our players tried to kick the ball into the goal and just missed. As he kicked the ball, his shoe flew through the air and the goalie ended up catching the shoe instead of the ball. The whole crowd began to laugh. (Hardly anyone's shoe fits, if he is wearing any at all.) It was a great moment in high school African soccer, which they do call football, but I didn't want to confuse my readers.

Field trip to Burunda

On Wednesday, our school traveled a few miles away to another children's home in Burunda to play soccer. When we arrived, one of our new girls, Lillian, found her little sister, whom she has not seen for some time. Lillian became extremely upset as her sister was very dirty. She bathed her then clothed her with clean clothes, giving her the jacket off her back and the only flip-flops to her name. Lillian continued to cry for the next hour. She seemed so overwhelmed to have found her sister. The two girls became inseparable. I watched them the entire time, smiling at how adorable they are, but my heart was breaking as I realized that they probably have no other family.

When time to leave, I asked a Challenge Farm co-worker what would happen to the sisters. I knew that nothing could prevent Lillian from leaving her little sister. The determined look in her eyes indicated that she would give up being at Challenge Farm in order to stay with her sister. Tears began to well up in my eyes as the Kenyan workers tried their best to split up the girls. The girls swatted off their hands as though they were the peskiest of flies. I quickly knelt down and put my arms around the both of them. I was not about to leave without bringing these girls with me. I became just as determined as they were, swatting off the Kenyan men, exclaiming that they were not being sensitive to these sisters. I was furious and probably being a little dramatic. My co-worker quickly called our director to get permission to bring Lillian’s sister back with us. He got off the phone and gave the nod. Yes! Everyone’s mood changed and we headed back to our home with one more member to the family.

The last picture is of Lillian and her sister.