Homesick for Africa

I have been back in New Zealand for four weeks and away from Africa for seven. Being home is strange. Everything looks familiar and feels familiar, but it also feels strange at the same time. It was odd to think that I had been away for so long and yet virtually nothing had changed. Sure there were little things - the road that I have driven most days for years had a change in layout and was almost unrecognisable in parts, and my little brother had grown to be almost as tall as me. But really? Not much was different.

It's still strange to be honest. My family is the same. Church is the same. My house is the same. I have the same bed and my closet is filled with clothes that are familiar but that I haven't seen for months. Now that I have started work again, that too is the same. I wear the same uniform as I did before, I drive the same roads, I have the same colleagues, I do the exact same work. Sometimes it feels as if the last nine months of my life were just deleted, they didn't exist or I imagined them somehow.

Nothing has changed. Everything has changed.

While I was in Africa, my world here went on without me. I don't know what I expected it to be like when I got home, but it wasn't like this. I am different now. I might be looking at the world with the same eyes as I was before, touching it with the same hands, but it feels different, and as kind as people are, nobody really understands that.

And all the time I am thinking about Africa. About Tanzania. About the babies. About Angel and Angelous. I miss Africa with every part of my being and there's not a time in the day that I don't wish that I was there. I think about them all the time. I wonder how much Maxine weighs now, if Riziki can walk yet, if Ibrahim is still a biter, if anybody calls Gian "Baby Gi" anymore.

Everything I see and do and hear is covered in Africa. Swahili words slip into my head uninvited, when English words are what I need. Several times I've accidentally referred to Tanzania as, "back home." Some days even ugali and mboga sound appetising.

I knew I would miss it when I left, but I didn't realise how deeply. I didn't realise that Tanzania would become a part of me, something that I'm constantly longing for. I didn't realise that 23 years of life in New Zealand would give way to eight months on the other side of the world. I didn't realise that your heart could have a different home to your head, to your history.

And the longer I'm away the worse it gets. The more often I cry. The more I sleep, hoping that I'll dream of it. Even if it's only a dream, I can still feel their little arms around my neck, kiss them before they go to sleep. And more and more I struggle, sinking into myself, unsure of anything anymore.

Most nights I cry. Every night I pray. For the children. For my babies. For the African mamas and my local friends. The only thing I can hold onto at the moment is that God is here. He's just as much in the mundane routine of daily life, as He was there in the big things in Africa. He's just as near to me when I'm driving to work as He was when I was feeding orphans. That's what comforts me most right now.

xoxo,
-Hannah

Traveling Days

I left Africa, Neema House and my life with the babies behind on Saturday, February 8. While it was incredibly hard to leave, I hold on to the thought that I will be back some day. 

While I might have left Africa almost two weeks ago, I am not home yet. My first stop was Dubai, where I stayed three days with my friend Shermaine. When I first got to Neema House last June, Shermaine was my roommate and we made friends quickly. Shermaine is originally from the Philippines, but is currently living in Dubai with her Belgian husband. One of the other volunteers commented how funny it was that two people from completely differently places in the world, who had completely different lives, could somehow find such a good friend in a little orphanage in Africa. 

My first day in Dubai I experienced extreme reverse culture-shock. I had gone from witnessing abject poverty, to extravagant wealth in the space of a few hours. I hadn't even had the more average experience of my home in New Zealand in between. That first day, Shermaine took me to the Dubai Mall, which was an interesting experience. I hadn't seen a mall in eight months and suddenly I was in the biggest one in the world. I hadn't even seen clothes shops really as almost everything I bought in Tanzania came from a market. It wasn't uncommon there to see clothes stacked in a pile, taller than I was. The first shop in the mall we went into, I didn't even want to touch anything. I'm too used to the African thing where you never touch anything unless you want to buy it. If you do touch something, the shopkeeper or stall owner will usually harass you to make a purchase, so you learn quickly to look with your eyes only. However, I got used to it relatively quickly thankfully, so I was able to enjoy it!

Inside the Dubai Mall is several "world's biggest" this or that. There's the largest candy store, the largest aquarium viewing panel and nearby is the world's tallest building, the Burj Khalifa.

The aquarium inside the Dubai Mall.

This is one of the reasons I felt so culture-shocked. The day before I had been standing in a schoolroom with thirty children, mud covering my feet, their clothes barely adequate to cover their bodies, all of them hungry. 24 hours later I was standing in front of shops like Burberry for children, Armani Junior and Gucci baby.

I couldn't stop thinking about how even the very cheapest item from a shop like this would be more than what the average Tanzanian would earn in a month. 

The Burj Khalifa - tallest building in the world at 828m.

On the first night I was in Dubai we had dinner at a restaurant on a balcony overlooking the Dubai Fountain. Every thirty minutes there is a show with lights and music.

Shermaine and I spent a day at the silk and spice souqs (markets).

To get to the silk souq we had to take a boat, like this one, to get to the other side of the river. In most places Dubai is modern and extravagant, but down by the river, where the markets are, feels like taking a step back in time.

Shermaine and I on the boat.

Dubai was absolutely amazing to see and experience, but I don't think it is somewhere that I would care to live. A couple of the things I liked best were very simple - a shower with good pressure and as much hot water as I wanted, and a comfortable bed to sleep in! It was also really nice to eat good food - we had everything from French to Pakistani to Polynesian. Even though it was a shock to go straight there from Tanzania, I'm so glad I went as it was lovely to explore a new place and to see my sweet friend Shermaine again.

From Dubai it was on to the Philippines. With my flight leaving Dubai at 4am and only getting one hour of sleep on the plane, I was pretty tired by the time I arrived in the Philippines eight hours later. In the Philippines I am visiting and staying with my lovely friend Jill and her very kind family. Jill is a paediatric nurse who I have known for the past five years - it's been really nice to spend some time with her!

Mostly in the Philippines I haven't been doing much besides resting. I was very tired because since the beginning of January, I have been working 7 days a week as I was spending time at both Neema and Havilah. I have also been sick on and off since the beginning of December, with one thing after another, which has been tiring. Jill has been working, so I've been staying at home and not doing a lot for the most part. Something I have done a lot of here is trying of new foods! It's been very interesting and there have been quite a few things that I have really liked.

The local transport here is known as a "jeepney" and, in terms of looks at least, is even more interesting than a dala dala!

On one day we went to Tagatay to do some sightseeing. We left at 4am so that we would miss the traffic (Manila traffic is crazy busy) and we got there about 6:30. It was up in the mountains and after spending the past almost-year in sunny Africa, the cold was a bit of a shock!

We stopped at a local restaurant for breakfast (rice, poached eggs and whole fried fish) and this was the beautiful view from the roof as the sun was coming up.

I probably only wore this jacket half a dozen times since I left home, but I was very grateful for it that morning! 

Edith (Jill's mother), Jill and I.

Valentine's Day with Edith and Annie (Edith's friend) at a small botanical gardens in Tagaytay.

We went to Sky Ranch, a small amusement park, so that we could ride on the ferris wheel overlooking Taal Lake, in the middle of which is the smallest volcano in the world.

The view from the top of the ferris wheel. It was a bit hazy, but you could clearly see the volcano, which has a crater lake.

At the top.

Jill.

Tomorrow afternoon I leave the Philippines, which will be sad as I have had a lovely time here. It has been really interesting to visit some new places and I have absolutely loved catching up with and meeting some new friends. As for now though - onward to Singapore!

xoxo,

-Hannah

A Letter to My Babies

Dear Babies,

For eight months now I have cared for you. I have fed you when you were hungry, changed you when you were dirty, sat up with you when you were sick, cheered you on as you learned to crawl, walk, say your first words, blow kisses. I laughed with you when you were happy and comforted you when you were sad.

For eight months now, even longer really, even before I came here, I have loved you. I have watched you grow and change, turn from newborns to babies to toddlers. Many of you I have known for most of your life, some of you, all.

I used to sometimes wonder how adoptive parents could love their children so much, when biologically, they weren’t really theirs. I understand now. None of you are flesh of my flesh or bone of my bone, but you will always be the first children of my heart.

All of you have found a place in my heart, but there are some of you who are extra special to me. The ones who I will cry over the most when I leave, the ones who I will talk about, the ones who I will remember all the time and love constantly from far away, the ones who I will miss the most.

Deborah: Your jealousy and neediness infuriates me to no end, but I know I will miss it all the same. Always the first to crawl into my lap, to run for a book, to whine when I won’t pick you up. I will miss your cheeky grin and your happy giggle when I peek through the mosquito net at you.

Esther: You are so sweet, the kindest out of your sisters, the least likely to hit or bite another baby. I do think you are too old to scream for a bottle every night, but you will grow out of that. The way you put your fingers in your mouth and lay your head on my knee is so precious. You cry every time a stranger comes near and someone once said, “Esther doesn’t really love anyone, except Hannah, that is.” I love that you trust me.

Anna: You will always be my “kichaa” girl. Crazy baby. Your eye rolling, mat hitting, funny mannerisms always make me laugh, as does the way you open your mouth so wide for food that I could put the whole bowl in at once. You also don’t like strangers and I remember there was a time that we had to put a towel over your head to calm you down, you were so terrified.

All three of you lovely girls, my triplets, are going to have a wonderful life back in the village with your parents. I’m so glad that you have so many people who want you and love you.

As for Angel and Angelous - you have always been my favourites. I have avoided calling babies “mine” while I was here, because I know none of you are – you belong to your parents or relatives or to the people who will adopt you. But if ever I had children of my heart, it is both of you. I would take you home with me in a second if I could.

Angelous: “Mtoto mtundu.” Naughty child. I doubt this is something that you will grow out of. You were having epic, terrible two style tantrums when you were only 10 months old. You were also the worry baby – hospital stays, viruses, that time that your toe just about fell off it was so infected. If there was a bug going around, then you got it. I will miss so many things about you – your excitement about life, the way you say my name, your laugh, the way you love Anna, your sloppy kisses, how you put your hand on my head and try and say "Marahaba." I’ll even miss the way you scream whenever I leave the room. I will always love you.

Angel: My girl. I love you so much. You are so sweet and good most of the time. I love the way you run to me, arms outstretched, big grin lighting up your face, every time you see me. I love your giggle. Susan once said that you had always been, “a little laughing baby.” I love how whenever you sit on my lap, you pick up my hands and say, “Row, row” so that I will sing to you. I will think about you and miss you every day.

You will all forget me. I will become one of the strangers that you, triplets, have anxiety attacks over, instead of one of your favourite people. Other people will take my place in your hearts. I know you won’t remember me specifically babies, but I will thank God every day that He gave me the opportunity to love you for a short time. What I pray for you is this – that you will remember that you were loved, are loved, always. You will all have a place in my heart forever.

Be happy. Be loved. Be blessed.

Nakupenda sana,

Hannah

Thoughts About Leaving

With less than a week left until I leave Tanzania, I have such mixed feelings. I know that I am going home, and that New Zealand will always be home, but in some ways it feels like I am leaving a home now too. I keep writing in my journal, "How can I leave?"

I am looking forward to going back to New Zealand. Sometimes over the past few weeks, I have wanted the days to rush by. I want to see my family, eat my favourite foods, pet my cats, go to church, sleep in my own bed, and have my little luxuries, like my perfume and Pandora bracelet, back. I have written lists and lists of things to see and do and eat. I am looking forward to constant electricity, high speed Internet, clean feet. I want to go home.

Other times, I want these last few days to last forever. These are the last moments I will spend with my beautiful babies. It will be soon enough that I won't ever see them again. By the time I return, they will be back with their families, at Children's Homes or perhaps adopted.

Mosquito net kisses, sticky fingers, long cuddles, baby hands. These babies have been my life for the past few months. I knew when I came to Neema, that it was inevitable not to get attached to the babies. I knew it would hurt when I had to leave. I saw other volunteers come and go. I saw them cry as they left, favourite babies being taken from their arms, the tears that followed. Some of those volunteers were only here for a couple of weeks. I've been here for eight months. All the babies have wormed their way inside my stubborn heart.

I will miss them so much.

I will not miss the sound of the mosque in the morning, dogs barking, slugs in the shower, giant cockroaches, milk that tastes like cow, ugali and mboga, dust everywhere. I will not miss sharing a house with up to 8 other people. While I don't mind doing it, I certainly will not miss changing a dozen plus dirty nappies every day or cleaning up copious quantities of baby vomit.

I will miss the nannies, Rose and Violeth and Jackie and Mama Musa especially. I will miss the friends I've made here, good times on the dala dala, cande-lit evenings, Aston and Jessica and their children, the way Meru looks in the twilight, clear mornings and clearer nights, greeting everyone who passes you, big smiles, white teeth in dark faces, women carrying babies on their backs, fresh mangoes. So many of these things are just a part of everyday life here - I probably won't even notice many of them until I am gone.

On January 25, I wrote this in my journal:

"How can I leave? Long walks with the Havilah children. Sun going down, mountain silhouetted in the distance. Kili rising above the clouds. Clear water, monkeys chattering, voices laughing. Stars overhead, endless sky. Bare feet in the dusty, sun-baked earth. How can I leave this place? These children? This life?"

The answer is, I don't know. I don't know how I can leave. White hands holding small black ones. Walking everywhere. Loving all the time.

I have no special skills. I am not a teacher, a preacher, a healer. I believe God sent me to Africa to love. To hug children, to mother orphans, to kiss babies, to make friends with mamas. That is why I will be back. Love is the key to changing everything. One person cannot change the world, but if I can show one child, one person, Christ's love in me; if I can help love them into a better life, than everything here has been worth it.

xoxo,
-Hannah

Havilah Children's Village

I have had the wonderful privilege of spending the last three weekends at Havilah Children's Village, an orphanage about 45 minutes outside of Arusha, close to Usa River. There are 21 children there at the moment with the youngest being 3 and the eldest 13. It's completely different as mostly my role at Neema is looking after the basic needs of the babies - feeding, bathing, etc. Here, the children are big enough to be able to do all that for themselves. They have different needs though. They need more stimulation, more interaction, more encouragement and help finding things to do. Here, when chores are done, we read and colour, skip rope, do origami, explore the unfinished administration building, play soccer, watch movies, go for long walks.

The one thing that is the same at Neema is that the children need love. Constantly. They need hands to hold and arms to hug them and lips to kiss them goodnight. They need words of affirmation. They need adults to be proud of their achievements, to clap them on and encourage them. They need role models, friends to listen to them, someone to run to when they are hurt.

Life at Havilah is very tiring. Our Neema babies are exhausting, but at least they nap twice a day so there is time to rest a little. At Havilah though, only the very youngest take an afternoon nap, so things are full on from when they wake up until after they go to bed at 9pm or later.

Havilah is located on the grounds of the University of Arusha, a Seventh-day Adventist university. The campus is beautiful, lush green grounds, rolling hills and trees - so many trees. Because it is located in the rain shadow of Mount Meru, everything is so much more green and beautiful than it is in Arusha. The children's home is set up like a village, or the beginnings of one anyway. There are 4 houses, each of which will ideally have 10 children residing there. At the moment, one house has 11. Two of the houses have children in them at right now and one is for the directors, Fred and Naomi and their three-year-old daughter, Joy. The last house is for Teacher Maureen, who is living at Havilah for the time being. I stay in Teacher Maureen's house with her.

Eventually the plan is to have 10 houses, plus a large administration block that will include housing for directors and volunteers. The skeleton of the admin block is up and the children like to play there regularly.

House 4, where the directors live.

Beautiful university grounds.

The children at Havilah are really neat kids and I often think of Sam while I am there because he would love it. There are three boys around his age that I think he would get along well with. Erik, the eldest boy, is 12 and he likes fixing things. Abduli and Isaya are both sweet, but just a little bit crazy and I know Sam would like to play with them. The boys ask me lots of questions about Sam: "What does he like to do?" "What's his favourite colour?" "Does he like swimming?" "Does he have any pets?" The bigger boys were the first group that I made friends with.

Three of the big boys - Abduli, Erik and Isaya.

The little girls and boys were easy to befriend too - I played on the playground with them, pushed them on the swings, gave them paper and pens to draw with and let them braid my hair (they are intrigued by how long my hair is and want to play with it constantly, as if I'm some life-sized doll).

How many hands does it take to "braid Hannah" as they say? I think at one point there was six children working on it at once!

More braiding by Baby Dory and Mwanaidi.

Elisha.

Isaya, Cory and Veronica.

Josephu and I.

Benny - he is a former Cradle of Love (a Seventh-day Adventist baby home a few minutes drive from Havilah) baby, so is known by some of the nannies from Neema House.

The big girls (ages 10-13) were a bit harder to make friends with. They are too old to really look up to me, but young enough that they still want some attention. The second weekend I just sat down and talked to them and after that they were my friends. They just wanted a big sister to listen to them and play with them and think their pop-star show was awesome.

Three of the big girls - Diana, Veronica and Jackie.

I did think their pop-star show was awesome, with them dancing and singling along to Bruno Mars, "Marry You" and One Direction's, "You Don't Know You're Beautiful." What I liked even more was at the end of the evening all the children got sleepy and lay on the floor and sang along when Teacher Marueen played Rascal Flatt's, "I Won't Let Go." Sitting there, listening to them singing quietly was one of the sweetest moments I've experienced in a long time.

Something else that is sweet is the prayers that children pray. One of the little Havilah girls, Loveness, was adopted and before she went to live in her new home in California, she came back to visit and say goodbye one last time. After she left, the others shared the things that they loved and would miss about her. Erik prayed, "Dear God, thank you for letting us love Loveness." It made me realise yet again, how much I have to learn from children. Instead of feeling sorry for himself, that he had lost a friend and a sister, he just thanked God for giving them the opportunity to love her.

Other children's prayers are just plain awesome. "Dear God, Please help Dorcas not to eat 6 cookies and Abduli not to eat 10 cookies, and please help our grandmothers and grandfathers not to die, and please help our pop-star show to go well and that we won't forget the words. Amen." Veronica, age 10.

Something else that I found funny was when, after worship last Sunday night, Fred asked the children what they liked about me. Their reply? "She's kind and good and she plays with us and she shares her iPhone." I love the honesty of children!

Since I have been at Havilah I have really enjoyed being able to go to church again, as I haven't always been able to go regularly since I've been in Tanzania. There is an SDA church on the university campus and on Saturday mornings I walk to Sabbath school with the children and then later on we go to children's church. I must say though that going to church with 21 children is no easy task. Church usually lasts until around 1:30pm and then there is church again at the afternoon, until 6:30pm or so. Sometimes we go back in the afternoons and sometimes we don't.

A few times we have gone for walks in the evening (the middle of the day is far too hot) and the surrounding area is so beautiful. I like it so much more than Arusha. Last Sabbath we walked to Usa River, the actual river, that is, not the village that was named for it. It was beautiful - clear and cold and for a minute I imagined that I was back in New Zealand. That is, aside from the dozens of monkeys swinging and chattering above us!

Usa River is far less dusty than in Arusha, but for some reason my feet get even dirtier when I am there!

I will have only been with the Havilah children for four weekends in total when I leave, but I know I will miss them greatly and I hope to be able to visit them again in the future.

xoxo,

-Hannah

Aston Vision Christmas Party

On the Saturday after Christmas, I hosted a Christmas party for the children at Aston Vision Orphanage. Betsy and I had been planning it for months and it turned out to be an amazing day. Some of our Neema House friends came along to help out - Kelly, Bim, Lovisa and Stina and Jeremy who took beautiful photos of the day which I am so grateful for.

I cooked spaghetti bolognese for 50 people - an interesting endeavour considering the fact that I had never attempted to cook meat before. After much seasoning and re-seasoning and forcing everyone in the house to try it to make sure it was okay, it turned out fine and the children loved it. It is a rare treat for them to eat meat, as their usual diet consists of rice and beans. Very rarely do they have anything else. I also baked cakes for the children and they had juice and soda as a treat.

45 children patiently waiting for their meal.

Photo Credit: Stina Gränfors

Despite being unsure how much food to make, it turned out to be just the perfect amount. Every child and helper had enough to eat.

Photo Credit: Stina Gränfors

Photo Credit: Stina Gränfors

The children enjoyed their food. "Kitamu sana," Aston said. "Very sweet."

Photo Credit: Stina Gränfors

"Cakey! Cakey! Cakey!"

Photo Credit: Stina Gränfors

I made a new cat friend who was more than happy to eat up some scraps of spaghetti that were left over.

Photo Credit: Stina Gränfors

In the weeks before the party, Betsy and I had bought presents for each of the children. I had a local lady at the market, who I have befriended, make small bags made out of study kitenge fabric which we could put the gifts in - that way, the bag would be an extra gift in itself. Each bag contained a bar of soap, toothpaste, a toothbrush, washcloth, t-shirt, packet of biscuits, pencil and notebook, a balloon, bubble mix, a lollipop and a little extra gift - bracelets for the girls, packets of chalk and light-up cars for the boys.

Photo Credit: Stina Gränfors

Photo Credit: Stina Gränfors

Kelly giving out the gift bags to the children.

The look on the children's faces as they saw what was in their bags for the first time was beyond anything I had ever seen before.

Photo Credit: Stina Gränfors

Photo Credit: Stina Gränfors

Photo Credit: Stina Gränfors

Photo Credit: Stina Gränfors

Photo Credit: Stina Gränfors

I blew up so many balloons that muscles I didn't even know I had hurt!

Photo Credit: Stina Gränfors

Another gift that Aston and his children received for Christmas was the gift of water. Many people donated money so that water could be pumped onto Aston's property, which means that the children do no have to walk to the spring to find water any more. A water filter bucket was also donated which means that the children will have clean water to drink every day.

Trying out the new water filter.

Enjoying a drink of clean water.

At the Christmas party, I spent a long time talking to Aston's sister Jessica, who helps with the children. She introduced me to her youngest sister, Eli who has just finished high school and is currently waiting for her exam results. Both of them one day hope to go to university. Education is important anywhere, but here it is the key to everything. The chance to go to school means a chance to change your life, your family and potentially your whole community.

Aston and I with his sisters, 19-year-old Eli on the far left and 24-year-old Jessica beside me.

Jessica and Eli told me more about the hard time that they had growing up with their alcoholic and abusive father. They said even now their life is very hard, but that they are very happy because God is good and has blessed them. This coming from two young women who currently live with their parents in a tiny mud hut with not enough food to eat.

Photo Credit: Stina Gränfors

For Western children, what we did at Aston's was nothing special. We gave them bags with soap, toothbrushes, toothpaste, a washcloth and some other small necessities. We fed them spaghetti and cake - everyday foods for most of us. And we played with them, blowing bubbles and tying balloons. As we were leaving, Aston told me that the children were all very happy because they had full stomachs and they had been given a gift that was just for them.

Imagine a world where the best Christmas present you could get is a full stomach. There is so much we take for granted all the time.  If I only came to Africa for this one reason - to help give these children the gift of clean water and a Christmas meal, then it has been worth it.

xoxo,
-Hannah