Karen, Day 2: Nyumbani Home
It was a night filled with writhing as the discomforts of food poisoning ravaged my body. My mind kept thinking about the things I had eaten the day before with a strong mental gag. I awoke early to join the nuns for a 7 am Mass since I did not think that I would make it through a day of fun at the orphanage. However, when I went out at our predetermined meeting time of 6:45 am, nobody was there, so I went back to sleep until breakfast at 7:30 am. Although I did not eat breakfast, feeling no sense of hunger, I socialized with the Irish group and decided to head over to the orphanage with them for the Mass celebration.
Before leaving, a man stopped to talk with me, telling me that he was headed to a wedding and inviting me to attend the wedding with him and his family. I felt gloom as I had to reject his request do to my intentions to get to Mass at the orphanage, but evermore so because I could not fathom making it through an entire wedding celebration in the condition that I was feeling inside. He asked to take a picture with me before we headed off, which can be seen above.
The drive over was a huge challenge for me. We were packed into the car, and I felt all of my blood fall out of my face. Sweat droplets soaked my forehead on the cool morning at I looked out the window, feeling that even opening my mouth to speak would result in a scene. I had slept 13 hours the night before, but felt like spending at least a day more just lying in the bed. As we pulled up, my mind searched for a way to get back to the bed as soon as Mass was over, but I would have to brave the service first.
In Mass, I tried to enjoy what I recognized as my favorite celebration, but it was all that I could do to stand and appear alive. About five minutes into the celebration, I knew I had lost the battle. The beads of sweat formed evermore rapidly, the saliva rushed to the front of my mouth. I rushed out of Mass in the most polite way possible and ran to the restrooms, contemplating whether I should open the fire hydrant in the bushes or in the toilet (if I could make it). I threw open the door of the bathroom, found the stall, and…Blah!!!!! Blah!!!! Blah!!!!! Blah!!!!! As I cleaned myself up and did my best to start sloshing the mess around with the toilet paper, I realized that there was no way I was going to be able to clean the bathroom with these materials. I headed down to another building for help. The cook, who was the first staff person that I ran into, I told the predicament and asked if there was anything I could do. He told me not to worry that it will be cleaned, so I reconfirmed that he would be sending somebody up to clean it (as it was quite an unpleasant sight).
At this point I was far from feeling great, but the worst of it was over. I had not eaten in quite a while, but still had no hunger (and would not regain it for a couple more days). I made it through the rest of Mass, enjoying the celebration just as it should be enjoyed, clapping with the people, waving hands back and forth in synergy with the community of worship.
After Mass, I asked if there was any way to get back to the Mary Ward Centre. I fully intended to get into a bed and cease consciousness until I was feeling much better. The car was returning briefly at 1 pm, some hours later, and that would be my chance. In the meantime, I decided to sit over by the kids and watch the fun they were having.
It was not long before one of the kids honed onto me. It must be the cool vibes I give with the continuous assortment of soccer apparel that accompanies my body. :). He pulled some leaves from the plant behind me and asked me to follow him up into a little fort on the playground. With a slobber-ridden spoon, he vigorously mixed the pieces of plant with some other random pieces from other plants. He handed me the dripping, improvised plate and said, “Eat.” I replied, “Oh, no I am much to full. I have had a full meal.”
After finding a way out of the fort as he asked “Do you want to go out?” I made my way over to the swings. It was then that I noticed a mother with her two children, a baby/toddler boy and a toddler daughter. I noticed that the daughter was prying for her mother’s attention, but the mother was busy with the younger child. I asked the girl, “Do you want to swing?” Although she did not speak English, she allowed me to pick her up and place her on the swing. Another boy came over and we played on the swings for about an hour. My illness was cured by the love and joy of children.
When it was time for lunch, I left with the Irish group from the courtyard to the lunch room. Again, I did not eat, but I had been craving a Coca-Cola (product placement for sponsorship here :)), so I graciously accepted an opportunity to savor the delicious, cold beverage.
When we went back out, the children were drumming. The entertainment company had a group drumming session set up, and it was incredible. They even got us wazungu involved after the children. Each of us had a child pull us to the drum circle to play.
Then, the bounce house was inflated and, once again, I found the girl from the swing missing out on some of the fun, so I asked if she wanted to go to the bounce house. She was scared at first, by the unstable surface, falling with a face filled with fear, so I decided just to sit and hold her in there as the older kids jumped around. After some time, she developed comfort with the surface and was tumbling all over the place. This simple experience would come to be my favorite of the trip. I have come to know in this life that nothing is greater than the love of a child. If you can bring joy to a child, you can change the world while having your own world changed by reminding yourself of a world you once knew not so far in the past when peace was your baseline.
In order to take the anti-malaria medication (Malarone), I ate 1 teaspoon of peanut butter and 2 watermelon slices. Another day had come to pass.
