FOR THE CHILDREN ,TURN THE WORLD AROUND

March 11, 2010.

I think about this past month and it's all jumbled together; faces, people, experiences. I feel so full and so alive. The tears are leaking out of me as there is no place inside for any more emotions.
Photos of the zebras of M'Bruru flit through my mind like a silent movie. The shacks of Namuwongo overlapping with the Monyonyo Commonwealth Resort. The contrasts are neverending. Uganda , a land of opposites, the land of the have and the have-nots. Like the smiling and crying masks of the theatre.
Ellen of Africa has gone home to Canada , to the land of non- frizz hair and Starbuck's banana smoothies, leaving her mark here on the children ,on me. I have journeyed on to Israel and even as I walk along the dunes beside the Mediterranean Sea, I speak of nothing but the children.
I see Michael, always eager to help, his shoes caked with mud and his skinny legs covered with scrapes.
Doreen, who's "Uh, uh" at times say more then any words as do her beautiful brown eyes.
Christine, who's clothes are rags but she wears them as if they were silk and fur.
Julian, whose demons darken his eyes as the morning progresses.
There is Hillary, with the accent on the second sylable of his name. His pink jacket confuses us until he demonstrates his left hook and we are reminded again that he is a boy.
I see Charles with his brilliant smile lighting up the room during the power outages.
Then there is Gloria who is the bossiest and feistiest girl from all the boys. She has the intention to break away from her Namuwongo heritage and I am certain that she will.
Provia, whose beaming face and an arch of an eyebrow were her main forms of communication. We need to find her a sponser to be in P2 because even sick, she was able to complete everything perfectly before we even finished explaining it.
Shamim always trying to keep up with her sister, Provia's example and successfully setting her own high standard. Both of them living with therecent loss of their father.
Daniel with his new shoes and his new found voice, who is slowly breaking through his fog of pain.
Maureen, so proud of her gold earings, so obsessed with the scab on her forehead and the moles on my arm.
Jacob determined and focused on getting his "s" to go in the right direction, doing brilliantly after only a few weeks back from break. His mind set on not to be outdone by the new girls.
Hussein, fitting in, making new friends, playing and running despite the fact that his oversized rubber sandles probably belonged to his dead father.
Isma, Mohammed striving to copy his letters and finding a smile despite his hollow belly. Rainy days often meant that porridge was late or didn't happen at all and this was particularly hard on these two brothers.
The courage and the spirit of these wonderful children is something we can all learn from.
I can still see their faces before me. I can still feel their arms around me. I can still hear their voices, mingled with that of Teacha Joyce.
"Hello, hello."
"Hey, hey."
"Where are you?"
"I am heya."
" Are you fah?"
" Not to far."
" Come and play."
"Not today."
"Then when?"
' Another day."

With love and gratitude, Doreen