On Monday morning, I left the center in Ruiru to head back to Nairobi where I was supposed to meet up with one of my other contacts, Alice, who was going to bring me to my next volunteer site. One of the women who works at the Ruiru center was also heading to town so she offered to go with me in a mini-bus (or "matatu" in Swahili.) We walked together to the main road, me with all my bags and climbed into the first ride that came by. I wasn't very organized so I had a bunch of different things in my hands and as I was trying to shove my way inside, my water bottle came loose and rolled across the road. There were a lot of cars coming so instead of trying to run out to get it, I decided to consider it a casualty and leave it where it was. The aim of the matatu "conductors" is to shove as many people into the vehicle as quickly as possible so I don't think he would have had much tolerance for waiting. With all my bags piled on top of me and people crammed in next to me, the 40-minute drive back to Nairobi was not the most comfortable journey ever, but luckily I made it will all my belongings (aside from the water) intact.
Alice had promised Lulu that she would take her out for lunch so I was invited along on the way to the center. We went to a delicious Ethiopian restaurant where we shared a spicy chicken dish and a vegetable dish along with the traditional spongy injera flatbread. I had only ever tried Ethiopian food in New York City so it was fun to have a more authentic experience in the country right next door to where it actually originates from (though not actually in Ethiopia, itself.)
After lunch, we drove to the children's home, which is located on a hilltop overlooking fields and farmland just outside of the city. The beautiful new complex, which features a main building that houses the Noah's Ark Rescue Center for the younger kids and two separate houses for the older boys and girls, was built just a few years ago and offers an amazing view of the countryside. When I arrived it was a stark contrast to the very basic facilities they had to make do with in Ruiru. The younger kids were just returning from school as we pulled up so as we got out of the car, three-year-old Amos, came running up to Lulu, who had lived at the center for a while with her mother. He was a bit shy around me at first, but he was definitely excited to get attention from his favorite "big sister."
I got a brief tour of the main building and then got back into the car to drive to the cottage where I was staying at a discounted rate for the week. It was a really cool private round hut that looked like something you would see at a safari lodge in the bush. It was basically just a bedroom with a bathroom attached, but it was certainly more "luxurious" than the shared budget accommodations where I am more accustomed to sleeping.
I dropped off my things and then road the short distance back to the main complex. Alice and Lulu said goodbye so I was left for the rest of the afternoon with the young one to six-year-old Noah's Ark kids and their many attentive "aunties." In contrast with the older kids I was working with in Ruiru, here I was assigned to the to toddler and early elementary set. There was an amazing ratio of about one auntie to every six or seven kids who shared a room and were literally each other's sibling. Even still it was immediately evident that these children craved attention and that unlike their all-business aunties, I got to be the fun big sister who gave them pony rides on my knees and played hand clapping games with them. I came to learn quickly that though all these demands on my attention where incredibly touching, they were also extremely exhausting. When you have half a dozen three, four and five-year-olds climbing all over you and calling out "Jenny-fa" all at the same time it can get very tiring. The first night, I didn't even make it past their dinnertime before I called it a night and went back to my cabin to eat my own dinner once it was delivered.
Over the next five days or so, I spent my mornings playing with the one and two year olds, helping in the kitchen, doing laundry and washing dishes. There were three very nice social work students who were interning at the center for a few months so I spent a lot of time working with them during the day. One morning we even made Chapati bread, though this time I was responsible for rolling out the dough into thin, round circles as opposed to cooking it. It was kind of nice when it was quiet during the day, though it was obviously great to see the school-aged kids when they came home in the afternoon. Once they were back, I would help them to wash up and do their homework before they had playtime and then dinner. I was obviously only able to assist with their English lessons and math assignments, but they would still ask me questions about Swahili. I finally was able to explain to six-year-old George that I didn't speak Swahili so he would have to teach me. I don't think he quite understood that he couldn't just list off a bunch of words in Swahili, he actually had to tell me what they meant in English. Clearly those lessons didn't go too far.
Since the older kids, aged seven and up, were at school for longer during the day, I didn't get much chance to work with them, though I did go over one afternoon to say hello. One of the girls showed me around their house and then brought me over the boys' house to get a tour. Every so often, a few of the girls would come up to the main house when they got home from school to play with some of the young ones. On the Friday that I was there a couple of American donors who were friends with Eunice stopped by for a few hours and two of the older girls stayed home from school to visit with them since they had known since they were very young.
Out at the cabins, I wasn't the only Western visitor staying there. There was also a Dutch couple living in a cottage who were in the process of adopting one of the girls from the center. Apparently strict new adoption rules in Kenya require that adoptive parents stay in the country for six months before the papers are finalized. This couple was willing to make the sacrifice and I could see how much love and devotion they felt toward little six-year-old Rachel. I prayed that everything would work because I could see how much it would crush both them and her if something were to go array. However, one small part of me couldn't help but think of how much change Rachel was in for once she moved away from her homeland and all her "siblings" for the cold, foreign, Dutch-speaking environs of the Netherlands. There was even a bittersweet moment when Rachel had to say goodbye to her friends after she and her future parents had to move out of the cottage and into an apartment because of procedural requirements. I know children are resilient, but in the end that center is their home and those aunties and other children are their family so it's definitely going to be an adjustment for her leave.
I moved out the day after Rachel and it was a bittersweet moment for me as well. Even though I felt myself getting teary, I actually took a bit of comfort in knowing that unlike the kids at Ruiru, these young souls would probably forget about me within a few days. Even though I wished I could still be there for them, it felt a lot less like abandonment. With a quick, but sad farewell, I took my newly-gifted Tumaini Hope tee-shirt and rolled off in a truck back toward town where I caught a matatu to the city.
Even though the facilities at Tumaini Hope are nearly brand new and in great condition, there's still a a great need for donations and basic supplies. For example, there are not enough forks for all the children to use so they often have to eat dinner with their hands. Also, one day when I asked one of the children to bring me a book for us to read, the only thing she had was her school assignment workbook because there were no books. On Saturdays, the children have a chance to draw with crayons, but otherwise there is no opportunity for creative activities or arts and crafts because there just aren't enough supplies. In addition, the children only have a very limited number of toys, educational or otherwise, that they all must share with each other. The ones they do have are generally old and worn and in some cases not even functioning. If you would like to help to give these kids the best possible life, I am going to post links for both Tumaini Ministries and the Ruiru Rehabilition Centre on the main links pages where you can find more information. Thanks for your generosity. Both homes greatly need your help.
I'm exhausted so I will proofread and post pictures tomorrow. Sorry in advance for any glaring errors.
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