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