Ok so I guess it’s time for a new blog post. I think it’s been a month and a half or so. Sorry about that. So much has happened and I want to update you. Also, sorry for no new pictures. I haven't had the time, but they are coming soon.
First off, please excuse any English or grammar mistakes. I am really beginning to lose my English but at least my French is really improving.
My family came to visit me for Christmas and I really want to write about that (and thank everyone who gave awesome donations for my boys), but I’m going to save that for my next blog entry. I also asked my family to each write a little blurb about their experiences and I’ll post those next also.
For this post, I want to focus on some recent changes to my mission.
The week after my family left, I received the news that my site was changing and I had to leave the boys. After school had ended I didn’t have much to do for two months and did not like feeling useless. I wanted to have a set routine and set work, so the priests began trying to find me a job to do during the day so then I could come back in the afternoon to be with the boys at Oratory and hang out with them at the Foyer at nights. While they were putting out feelers, the Salesian Sisters told the priests that they actually needed a full-time volunteer and asked the priests to give me to them. I found out 48 hours before I was expected to move. I had to pack, finish working out sponsorships, say goodbye to the boys, and move in less than two days.
It was so hard. I cried for about 60% of the two days and was in shock for the other 40%. I was expecting to have at least 8 more months with the boys and was even seriously considering extending my contract so I could be with them longer. Finding out I had to leave them so quickly and without time to prepare them or myself for my departure was very painful. I made a promise of poverty, chastity, and obedience with the Salesians, so I just kept trying to be very obedient. I kept trying to trust that God had a reason for this and that this is all in his plan. I’m sorry to say though that inside my heart and head I wasn’t as joyful or obedient as I now wish I had been.
When I told the boys, some were angry, some were sad, a couple cried, but I got permission to return every Friday afternoon to visit, so that was a huge comfort for everyone involved. I’m so glad I will at least get to see them weekly. They have also been calling me every day.
I arrived at my new site last Tuesday. It’s a school for gifted children so most of the kids are very wealthy, however I don’t work with these kids too much. My main job is to be the “House Mamma” for 50 girls who live here. They are between the ages of 3 and 13. These girls are extremely gifted but too poor to afford an education. Because of their intelligence, they were accepted to the school and get to live here so they can get 3 meals a day and study.
I'm sorry to say that when I first arrived I had a hard time being open to the situation. I tried to disguise my feelings as best as I could, but I called my mother than night and actually said “these are just some random kids! They aren’t my kids.” Well, it didn’t take long for me to regret those words. These girls have already completely won me over. They are just beautiful and so lively. I’m constantly laughing. They all speak Kinyarwanda, English, and actually French, which is unusual. Usually children their ages don’t learn French since it’s being phased out.
They constantly keep me on my toes and are always challenging me in new ways. They also keep me laughing.
I’m the “House Mamma,” so I’m responsible for caring for their daily activities. I’m with them all the time.
I guess I should explain the typical day in my life: I wake up around 5:20 because I have to wake the girls up at 5:40 (except one day a week I wake up at 4:30 and get the girls up at 5 so we can go to Mass). After waking the girls up, I bathe the youngest ones and make sure the older ones are washing up. Then I check their teeth to make sure they brushed. I then go and examine rooms and help them make their beds. Whenever one of the younger ones wets her bed (at least one a day) I pull out the sheets and put them to the side so we can wash them later. Then I help all the little ones get dressed and examine all their uniforms to make sure they are ready for school. Then I send them on to breakfast and I eat with the sisters. After eating with the sisters, I watch that my girls go to their classrooms and then I go to the nursery. I watch 45 three-year-olds until noon and then go eat lunch with the sisters. At 1 p.m. The girls get out of school and I send them along to lunch. When they finish eating, I help them with their assigned chores and scold them for whatever crazy thing they are doing. Then we do homework until about 4 p.m. After each girl finishes her homework, I have to review it and then sign it to show I reviewed it. After that, I go to the gym with the girls where they style my hair and we play clapping and dancing games. At 5:15 we pray a Rosary and then go to the Chapel for about 15 minutes to pray. Then we go back to the gym until 7 when all the sisters and me eat dinner with the girls, which is always beans and rice. After dinner, the girls go back to the gym and we play some more and then we go back to the Chapel for their “Goodnight” talk. The “Goodnight” is a Salesian tradition and is usually a story or small talk on morality. After the “Goodnight,” I take them up to our house and wash their feet, mop the floor, and then make sure they are all in bed sleeping. I try to stop by each room to tell the girls “Maro-tay Manna” (not sure of spelling so I just wrote it how it sounds). This means “dream of God.” Then I come to my room in the same house as the girls for my first break of the day, usually around 9:30 p.m. Lights off by 10:30.
It’s a really busy schedule and I work 7 days a week. My only time off is Friday afternoons when I go visit the boys.
Still, the girls are a lot of fun. They are always touching my hair and constantly braiding it or styling it in strange configurations, which they insist are beautiful. Whenever I wear an African dress or take the time to style my hair, they always go “Wow!” whenever they see me. It’s so cute.
I’m learning quickly how little my college education means here. Before moving to Africa, I would have thought a theology degree would be useful to a missionary. I was wrong. Instead of spending four years studying, I should have taken cleaning courses, because that’s the way I spend a majority of my time and I’m terrible at it! I was trying to mop the floor the other day and one of my 9 year olds, Assumpta, walked up to me and said, “You’re not working; you’re playing!” She then proceeded to show me how to "really mop" a floor.
I've also had some difficulty about my skin color. For two of the three year olds, I am the first Mzungu they have ever seen and they react to me with raw fear. I always try to speak very gently and play with them but my efforts are futile. Finally I found out why. One of the 3 year olds told an older girl that “Mzungus like to eat babies!”
For the rest of the day, all the girls and the sisters tried to convince the two that I’m not a cannibal, but they won’t have anything to do with me. Hopefully in time they will warm up.
In the U.S., if someone is from way out in the country, other people say, “they’re from the boonies.” Yesterday, after trying to convince the two babies I wouldn’t eat them, one of the sisters goes, “These small children are ignorant. You are the first white skin they have seen.” Then she snorted and goes, “They’re from the Bush.” I don't know why I thought that was so funny but I still laugh about that.
It’s actually sort of sad that we have three year olds here. It must be so hard for them to be away from their mothers and on top of that, they are forced to live with a Mzungu who could eat them at any moment. The poor little things have been very traumatized, but the older girls have been so kind to them.
Each of the three year olds was given to one of the older girls and she is responsible for the child. The older girls refer to the little ones as “my baby.” The babies share a bed with the older girl and she has to clean and feed and care for the baby. It’s not an ideal situation, but it is reality. All of the children have to share twin size beds. It’s two girls to each bed.
I brought the girls two dolls (in Rwanda, we call them “poppets”). They were all sooooo excited to get new poppets but there were only two and all 50 girls had to share. Instead of fighting, they developed a system where each poppet sleeps in a different room every night so everyone will get a turn. They didn’t need an adult to negotiate this system. They did it on their own. They are truly the complete opposite of my Gatenga boys. I think I mentioned before that I had to break up an almost fist fight because two boys were arguing over whether I would become a sister or get married. I think only two poppets for 50 girls is a much better excuse for a fist fight than whether your teacher will become a nun, but the girls were very mature. I was so proud of them.
After being there for 5 days, some of the girls told me for the first time that they loved me. Actually, about 10 of them told me that today. It was so sweet and so moving. Then, they did something that I am still beaming about. In Africa, everyone has two names: a “Christian” name and an African name that is based on a personality trait or virtue. The girls decided it was time for me to get an African name, so they held a little meeting amongst themselves and decided to name me “Ineza.” Roughly translated, it means “She who does good works where she is.” I was so touched.
I still don’t totally understand what God’s plan is for me at this new site, or why I had to leave the boys, but I am definitely starting to feel settled. As my mother told me, one of the greatest miracles in life is how our hearts can never run out of love.
I never thought I could love anyone as much as my Gatenga boys but it didn’t take a week for me to be proven wrong. Now I get to have both my Gatenga boys and my new Kiyovu girls. How can life get any better?
Ha. Just as I was typing this, I received this text from one of my Gatenga boys: “Hi Mary Ellice. I wish you a good night and a good job for tomorrnw. I am happy be couse on 1st May Pape Benoit 16 [I think he means JPII] he shall in the 1st part of saint. Be happy be couse you are good like him befor me or every one. Thank you Mery Ellice.”
So much love and so many blessings.
