Quick mini-update

Nothing concrete yet, but Ebenezer was at least briefly released from the hospital yesterday, although it sounds like he's back now. The mamas are reporting that he's doing well and recovering, though, and that's hugely encouraging, since meningitis usually kills fast if it's going to kill. Fingers crossed it means that he's going to pull through. In the meantime, according from on-the-ground reports from the fabulous Emily, Megan, Jasmine, Bethan and Emma, six more baby chicks have been born, the kids have been award-winningly naughty and dirty, especially Pray, and Pendo and Miriam continue to settle in miraculously well. 

Meanwhile, today I saw the Queen. Ok, ok, I saw three cars from about 150 yards away, one of which contained the Queen. Still, I'm not in Kansas anymore. I will write more soon, but for now, babies. 

David really does kiss the girls and make them cry

Why would I keep the socks inside when they could
be SHARED WITH THE WORLD??

My gorgeous girl

Maureen is trying to make me feel better with
the biggest smile ever. Or possibly she is planning to eat me.
 Hard to tell.

Even big David can put on a smile that makes it
 hard to believe how incredibly devilish he can be.
Who could doubt that face?

All I wanna do - cuddle my kids. Dainess (top) and Farajah

Ebenezer

Turns out our little man is fighting meningitis in addition to malaria and pneumonia. He came in the same day as Reziki, and he was actually the weaker of the two - most of the mamas didn't think he would make it this far, and he has proven to be a fighter. All we can do is hope that he will keep fighting. The malaria is no longer showing in tests and the pneumonia is going, and reports on the ground (thanks to the incredible Bethan, Jasmine, Emma, Megan, and Emily) say that he's smiling and responding, which is a good sign. Anyone who knows me even a little bit knows that I don't believe in prayer - but I can't be there, and neither can you, and for once I get the idea of needing to feel like we're doing SOMETHING. So keep him in your thoughts? He will never be out of mine.

Extremely premature

Little fighter four months later - putting up his dukes.

Poking the bruises

I am trying very hard to enjoy being here - in England, with my wonderful family, in my life - and to relax enough to write more about the last few weeks with the kids and about what comes next. And I will get there. But tonight my heart just hurts. It's very hard feeling like you are speaking another language than everyone around you - that they don't and can't see the world the way you will never be able to un-see it, from the bottom up. I've told a few family members that I want to go back to adopt Z, and they indulge what they see as my naivete, as a kindness. I was told today, repeatedly, with forgiving smiles, that biological children are just DIFFERENT from adopted children, I'll understand one day, of course I'll want to have children of my OWN. What woman wouldn't? And, as I was told before, why adopt Z when if I get married, later, my husband could never really love her the way a father would?

Ouch. I feel bruised on every layer, all over, all the way down. And every photograph feels like poking that bruise, and yet I can't stop. The photos are the only thing reminding me I'm not crazy, that I love and am loved, that there is a world beyond the tidy hedgerows.

Two more years of this?

I miss you every day, little girl

Happy Birthday Watoto

I am writing from a bunk in a strange but very well designed "yotel" in Amsterdam's Schipol Airport - the last two weeks have been too busy and intense to sleep or think, much less post or email, so my apologies to anyone that tried to get in touch - including my lovely and very patient UK family. I am currently experiencing severe cultural whiplash - 8 hours is not nearly enough to travel the billion cultural miles between TZ and an Amsterdam airport - and, obviously, missing the kids. The pain hasn't fully hit me yet - I cried like a baby when I had to say goodbye to them, but now it just feels like a day that I'm not working and I'll be back in a few days, my subconscious - ok, not entirely subconscious - denial mechanisms are working pretty well. Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

Since I am in no way close to ready to talk about leaving, let's talk about last Wednesday's birthday party for the kids - since none of them have ever had a birthday party before, we decided to have a big group one for them all. In an ideal world, we could have one for each kid on their birthday, but they don't totally understand the concept and get sad when it's someone else's birthday and they are told theirs isn't for another X number of months. So this was our solution! Also it ended up being a nice way to help our newest little one, Miriam, to settle in - she transferred in from another orphanage that ends care at two years, and the poor scrap had only ever really been cared for by white people so she was terrified of the mamas for the first few days. As you can see, she has since adjusted nicely, and is a beautiful and happy kid.

Miriam with stickers, bracelet, and biscuits

Simoni sang "Happy Birthday" to himself for days after the party - probably still is singing it right now. To be fair, he sings to himself all the time, so this isn't necessarily related. 

All the volunteers with a fraction of the kids, everyone on a sugar high

Z with lollipop lipstick

Lots more to tell, here are a few preview pictures:

Little Ebenezer before hospital admission - Pneumonia and Malaria, poor little scrap.

From left: Zawadi's grandmother, sister Pendo, Zawadi, Mama Pendo, and Zawadi's great uncle in front of the hut Pendo and grandmother were sharing

Zawadi and big sister Pendo back at Nkoaranga - she's here to stay!

Last day, new chicks

Guest posts: Mom and Dad!

Guest post - Dad 

Well, we're not in Kansas anymore, or Connecticut for that matter!Tanzania is a most wonderful place- the country is beautiful, the people are so friendly, and it is truly amazing to hear about the work that Bekka has been doing: everywhere we are greeted as “Mama Bekka” and “Baba Bekka”- followed by a stream of Swahili that we nod politely to and reply “Asante” (Thankyou). But judging from the smiles and touching and hand holding,they are only saying good things.

The hospital and orphanage here at Nkoaranga are quite amazing: on one level to see how little the people here expect,and on another to see how much they make of what little they have. No complaints, no whining, a lot of hard work and dedication, and a truly amazing communal sense in which people help each other. Much of the credit for that, I gather, is due to Nyerere, who led the country from independence, and by leadership and example, avoided the problems of despotism and internecine fighting that has plagued so many African countries.

We have spent most of our time so far at the orphanage where I have completed exams on all the children:  they are a remarkably happy and healthy group- apart from the endemic malaria (2 cases) one child who appears mildly developmentally delayed and a couple with relatively mild emotional disturbance, I was not able to find any significant problems. (Testing for worms comes later!!)

The “mamas” take really good care of these children, and you can really sense the meaning of Hilary Clinton's “it takes a village” phrase.

We also got to meet Rehema- Bekka's friend and student who is applying for computer college,and for  whom Bekka has been searching out sponsors (Thanks Max and Hilde!).

She is a remarkable young woman- with a lovely family who we also met. Rehema is both beautiful, charming and clearly highly intelligent in a country where women have to compete with a deeply   entrenched patriarchy. She is certainly one who deserves every chance to level the field.

Guest post part two: Mom

Special report from Mama Bekka:

We're here! What a beautiful country this is – I totally understand why Bekka loves it here. The climate is, as promised, as near perfect as it gets. Situated up about 4,000 feet at the slopes of Mount Meru, we wake up to mist and cloud, overcast and about 60 degrees, perfect walking weather to wander the forest and small unpaved roads, between banana and coffee groves on the steep slopes. By late morning, the clouds burn off and it heats up to the high 70s, low 80s, and though we are here in the rainy season, we have yet to see any rain except a few showers at night (this is a problem for them, but lovely for us).

The most amazing thing about being here, though, is watching Bekka in her element at Nkoaranga Hospital and Orphanage. She is totally a  rock star here – everywhere we go, adults and children alike hail her and pull her aside and hug her and there are introductions all around – in Swahili, mostly. Bekka's Swahili sounds pretty darn fluent to me, though she insists it's not very grammatical. In any case, watching her haggle on our behalf at the Maasai Market is a sight to behold! We have been greeted as royalty here, with everyone hugging us when they find out we are Mama and Baba Bekka (adults are addressed according to their children, here). We have been invited out to barbecues and lunches and dinners and treated to wonderful Tanzanian hospitality, and told how much of a difference Bekka and her well project and her chicken coop and her garden and all the medical supplies and laptops we brought have made to the well-being of this entire area. We make clear – as we did when presenting all our supplies to the orphanage and hospital staff – that many people made this possible, and we once again thank all of you for making this miracle possible for this small corner of Africa.

And the children! They are beautiful, happy, and well cared for. Despite the poverty and their dire beginnings, these children are doing extremely well. David, along with Bekka, several British volunteers and a couple of British medical students, did a well-baby check on every single child at the orphanage, and though two babies had fevers and were rapidly brought down to the hospital, where they were diagnosed and treated for malaria (all better already), most of the children were remarkably healthy, according to David. They are uniformly small and below the optimal size on the growth chart, but in every other way are healthy and developmentally appropriate. They are cheerful and affectionate, and the “mamas” take wonderful care of them. We have decided to set up a special fund to supplement the salaries of  the staff here, all women who take home between 40 and 90 dollars a month (!) and work long hours at a difficult job. They truly are heroic. Photos below of us with kids, etc. Believe it or not, I (Dot) spent many hours with children clinging to me and sitting on my lap, and actually enjoyed it. Have particularly formed bonds with Dianess, who chose me as her exclusive territory, and Eriki, whose boo-boo on his arm required my magical “Heile, heile sage” formula learned from my Dutch mother. Go figure. We also took three of the toddlers (Bekka's Zawadi, Simoni and Maurin) on a day trip to Arusha National Park (local), where we saw zebras, giraffes, water buffalo, baboons, colubus monkey, flamingos, and much more. This weekend we go on a two-day trip to Serengeti and Ngorogoro Crater. What a country....

Mom, Dianess and Tumaini

Dad at Arusha National Park with Simoni

Another highlight was last night meeting Rehema, the young woman who was Bekka's jewelry student who we and my pa rents are sponsoring to send to university to learn computer science. She is beautiful (see photo) and so smart – with only one year of training, she learned to speak excellent English and French (we used both) and is apparently Bekka's best jewelry student. She wants to be a web designer eventually and we plan to help her reach that goal. We went to a local restaurant and enjoyed “chips mei-ei” which I always hear as “chips my eye”, the national dish of french fries in an omelet. It sounds strange but is delicious. We also had beef with uji, a wheat paste mixture resembling grits, which you eat with your hands. Another delicious dish, with the waiter bringing over a pitcher of water so we could wash our hands before and after eating. When we dropped Rehema off, we met her whole family – she lives with her aunt and uncle and four cousins she calls brothers and sisters, since she has lived with them since she was three years old. Her brother Good Luck (love the names here – they all embody a hope for their children) is a taxi driver and has rented us his very nice car for two weeks so that we can get around independently. David is handling the roads deftly, re-learning driving on the left.

Later today we will have lunch with the local shopkeeper whose son, Ezra, goes to the morning school at the orphanage. We are going to ask his wife to cook up a meal for next Monday, when we are having a Passover seder with about 15 people – no way to cook a meal like this in Bekka's kitchen with three burners and a toaster oven.

Ezra and his Baba

Tomorrow we go out with the palliative care team and will report back. Meanwhile, we hope all is well with all of you. We can't get any news here and our American phones don't seem to be working, though Bekka's phone (203)379-7128 does work and receives text messages. Thank you Ruth for the spare AT&T phone, which has revived her ability to stay in contact through her American number.

Lots of love from the kids!

More to come: Safari, clinic, donations, etc.

Interlude

Coming soon: A guest post by the lady and gentleman of the hour. For now, I will leave you with this reaction to the Bob the Builder DVDs generously donated by superhero Kirsty and family. As you can see, they're not excited at ALL.

For now: Jet lag.

P minus 9 hours!

So I am currently just kind of running around in the manner of a headless chicken trying to make sure everything is set for the arrival of the 'rents - we have quite a lot lined up already so I hope it's not too hectic. I really want them to see the Tanzania I've fallen in love with, not to mention my babies. It feels almost like having set up a blind date and waiting anxiously to see if they even like each other - except this blind date cost, erm, significant money for the tickets alone, and is two weeks long, so they better damn like each other. Says I. Not much I can do now but wait! In the meantime, here are some snapshots of the past week.

Knew that good health streak wouldn't last... malarial Baracka FAAST asleep in the hospital

Our little fashion plate, Loveness

Don't mess with the chick with the bear. Even Ester looks scared.

Gracie got bored waiting for her turn to be changed and decided to take matters into her own hands

 

 Neema is WALKING! Thrilling, although it's probably a good thing Zawadi doesn't understand any of the things I say to her to encourage, erm, healthy competition to get her walking without help too! 

Dianess and Gracie in perfect audience/performer symbiosis

Mama Afrika and Mama Ezra

The last few days have been pretty wonderful, albeit a tad stressful. On Saturday, a group of seven volunteers, one Mama, and a hospital driver piled into a car with fifteen of the older orphanage kids - from Pray and Simoni upwards - to go see the Mama Afrika circus, which I can state pretty confidently was a comprehensive success. The kids were incredibly excited, loved just getting out into the city - I think they had as much fun waving to the drivers and talking about everything we passed on the road as they did at the circus itself, not that I minded - and have spent the last few days compulsively and constantly trying to replicate everything they saw. Several have announced very seriously their intentions to join the "Cirakasse" when they're older. Frankly, I don't blame them, it was a lot of fun!

Farajah is rapt, Andrea is... something. Falling asleep?

The whole crew - dressed in their best school clothes for the trip

We had one slight hitch in the whole process, and I have to say, it was completely hysterical, as bad as I felt at the time. In one act, a woman went up in what was essentially a large hula hoop and did various acrobatic things in and around it - nothing particularly death defying. However, Simoni absolutely LOST it, and started crying hysterically, terrified that the girl was going to get hurt. He couldn't watch the whole act and only recovered when dancers came on for the next act - and, ok, when I went to get him popcorn to distract him.

Simoni's greatest fear

However, for some reason, he had recovered his confidence enough by the second half that he was fine with the - much more terrifying, in my opinion - flying circus men, as featured in the video below. You should note, though, that he still flew back about a foot (on my lap, directly into my face, as fate had it), when they whirled in our direction.

Then, as though that wasn't enough excitement for one day, when we arrived home the family of one of the hospital doctors were setting up the birthday party of their daughter to share with the orphanage kids, which is apparently a tradition they partake in every year, and the kids were thrilled. So to recap, circus all day, special junk food for dinner, and cake to finish it all off - not a bad Saturday!

In their pretty little party hats

The birthday girl (center) sharing her spotlight

On Sunday, Bethan and I went to the house of one of the kids who goes to the orphanage school but is not an orphan himself, named Ezra. His family also owns a store on the corner that we frequently frequent, so to speak, and they invited us to the house for a home cooked meal and a taste of rural Tanzanian life. Ezra and his brother Felix led us through three kilometers of jungle, sometimes on dirt roads and sometimes on single person paths, through villages hidden in the jungle that I never knew existed so close to us, before we arrived at their gorgeous house. The location was just incredibly, the food was delicious, and the kids incredibly sweet - their oldest, Magdalena, was adopted from Nkoaranga orphanage as a baby, so they have close ties to the organization going way back.

Ezra (on my lap) ate more than I've ever witnessed a child that size consume, and then proudly showed off his bulging belly - I'm convinced the kid has a hollow leg because there's no WAY that much food is in the stomach alone. To be fair, he's a total live wire, spent the whole trip running ahead then dashing back, so probably ended up covering twice to three times as much ground as we did, in addition to skipping, jumping, running, and swinging his way along. A sweet, wonderful, active, healthy, five year old with a loving family - always a pleasure.

Final preparations are obviously commencing for operation parents, including (sadly) banishing my wonderful cat Paka from the house so that it can be scoured of her hair so as not to kill my lovely father. Sad, but she will be fine - she lived outside before I came and frequently stays out all night anyway, she will just miss the cuddles. Other than that, all appears to be going to plan (knock on wood) - so we shall see how the next few days go! I had my first good cry last night - at 3 am on the phone with my long-suffering father - about how much it's going to hurt to leave, as that tsunami is just beginning to wash over me. I'm trying not to let it overwhelm the pleasure of the time I have left, and that is my goal for the next to weeks. To live them, to get as much out of them and the kids and my friends as I can, so that I can leave with no (ok, with as few as possible) regrets.

A big part of that is going to be thanks to all of you who have contributed medical supplies, either directly or through the wish list, to help make sure that we leave these kids with the best possible care. That includes

Meghan Sellars

Rachel and Andy Hechtman
Maura Casey
Michele Abrams and Dalton King
Priscilla Jencks
Rick and Anne Calvert
Ruth and David Sack
Patty Harris & David Bolinsky
Rita Goldberg and Oliver Hart
Susie and Ed Brubaker
Ben Kahn
Eve Robinson
Sally and Michael Laden
Cynthia and David Damer
Amy and Steve Eppler-Epstein
Joanna and Brad Waley-Cohen

I am honored to have you all in my life! Thank you, thank you, thank you again.

P minus 7 days

That's right, the lovely David and Dorothy will be arriving exactly a week from today, and I am very excited - trying desperately to stay focused on being excited about that rather than thinking about the fact that it means I am three weeks away from leaving my babies. So instead let's not think or talk about that at all, kay? The kids are mostly doing wonderfully - Z is standing on her own (albeit for only a few seconds before toppling!), the toddlers are all utterly fascinated by mirrors, and the good health kick seems to be continuing for now, although the toddlers have been wracked by a prodigious outbreak of ringworm - their hair is all falling out in little circular clumps, which I guess is ok since they shave every few months anyway. Not beautiful, and not fun to get the antifungal on squirming kidlets twice a day.

Movie star Neema practicing her pout

Sweetheart Maureen giving a kiss

Simoni thinks the whole thing is hysterical

And Zawadi being her cheeky self, as usual.

Standing alone for the first time! With the inexplicable but omnipresent shoes on the hands... don't ask me.

However, I'm NOT thrilled with the way the school kids looked upon returning to the orphanage a few days ago - they come here first and then Mama Pendo brings them individually to their homes and checks on all the conditions before leaving them. After only four months, some of these kids had lost significant amounts of weight, and all complained that there was never enough food and they were beaten all the time, and most said they disliked school because of it. These are five and six year old children, GOOD kids, not just the ones who are mischievous - all reported being beaten regularly. So that's absolutely not ok, and I'm getting in touch with several people to see whether this is something that's fixable at the school or whether we need to look for another school for at least Ericky and Steven, both of whom are being sponsored by family and friends of myself and other current volunteers (thanks Rita!).

Immanuel at Christmas

Immanuel now, all his clothes falling off

I also spent yesterday with the palliative care team, since my parents will be working primarily with them, which was... quite an eye opener. The team consists of three women with minimal medical training, overseeing another thirty volunteers in the villages, taking care of over 700 patients, with conditions ranging from cancer, to HIV, to diabetes (which is a terminal condition here) to children without caretakers in dire poverty. They are provided with medication, but it is drastically inadequate - tramadol, which is a medicine commonly used for back pain, is the most extreme painkiller they have available, even for women like the one pictured below. Her cancer is covered by her scarf, and out of respect I'm not going to post the uncovered picture, but it is about the size of a cantaloupe and visibly open and painful, distorting at least half of her face - and all they can offer is tramadol.

Using an antiquated BP machine - in most cases the only care they can provide with current equipment

Meanwhile, these patients clearly cannot work and often have been abandoned by their families (especially HIV patients), and so lack even a few thousand shillings, a dollar or less, to buy soap and disinfectant. Meanwhile, the women running the program, who are in no way, shape, or form wealthy themselves, scrape up a few shillings from their own pockets in almost every home to help them out. Even more heartbreaking, if that's possible, was the diabetic patient we saw - apparently maximum life expectancy for diabetics is about 30 years here, and the hospital owns a single glucometer, which they do not lend to the palliative care team - so the team goes out into the village and is unable to even test the sugar of the patients, and instead must try to evaluate their condition from their reports of pain, etc. Cancer and HIV are often killers even with the best care, but to see such an easily treatable condition taking lives is deeply upsetting. I am hoping that we can help formalize the structure of their program, donate some supplies, and then work on raising some money to help support their work, as they are currently almost completely unsupported, internally or externally, and run by local volunteers.

Just what I need, another big project I want to get involved with weeks before I leave...It's all worth it though, and I WILL be back.