after another.  There is no easing in or out of it.  I've gotten generally accustomed to 

relating like an African (i guess, though people still often misunderstand me), now if 

people show up early for things it almost seems unkind and I'd rather them be an hour late 

than early, the team goes out to eat at a westernized restaurant and we all have gas problems 

for the next few days, I can't seem to sleep in past 7 now and dancing is a daily activity 

(o and so is eating as a family and sharing a bed)  however when I think about it in a big 

picture I still just don't understand the culture, more so I don't understand the hardship 

and oppression that to everyone is normal, it's life, it's home, it's part of being African. 

 It is still so strange to see a child take charge of other children with the authority of a 

parent and with more aggression than even I would take if I had little ones of my own.

   We visited an orphanage yesterday - it houses over four hundred kids and all they seem to eat is  fillers...Ugali( a flour and water mixture that expands in the stomach basically and makes 

you feel full but has very little nutritional value...a staple), chapati (flat bread) 

porridge and rice.  With so many children and not nearly enough teachers the older ones 

patrol the little ones.   No one gets enough attention and no one sees if "toys" are stolen 

or if one falls or get bitten by a bug..they just have to deal with it. The facility is 

horribly run down and I find it so troubling to see children with nothing, no clothes, no 

parents, no hygiene.  They don't have toys- I saw one boy blowing spit bubbles onto the 

pavement occupying time, amusing himself...so dirty. The orphanage is called Smile 

Africa and the team has visited a couple times before having lived at True Vine in January.  

This was my first encounter.  I could hardly interact with any of the children, I didn't 

play or run around or sing songs or push kids on swings.  I just stood there, wandered this 

way and that just observing i guess; watching the dynamics between the kids, observing their 

reactions to the attention from the rest of the team, watching the teachers.  I found myself 

staring at the tiny little bundle on the floor.  I could have gone over and picked her up, normally I would have but instead I stared.   Inside was a little girl probably 14 months 

old (though it's hard to tell cause they are all smaller than they should be, much smaller). 

 She was sleeping in the middle of the cement slab which was an eating area twenty minutes 

ago.  Someone might step on her.  I glance to the right to the sound of crying and there is 

another tiny naked bay, probably only 2.  He's sitting in the middle of nowhere crying.  Why?  What's wrong?  Are you hungry?  Do you just hurt cause the worms in your stomach are 

eating you alive?  Are you sick?  Or did you just suddenly realize that you are in the 

middle of nowhere and no one even knows you're there.  I'm sure someone would care but no 

one knows about you, no one seems to even see you.  So many questions are running through my head as I stare.  Does anyone else see this?  Surely I'm not the first one to notice you but then why doesn't anyone answer your crying.?   How often does this happen?  I'm so sorry.  I was pulled out of this daze to a sudden burst of tears from a child over in the field who had been pushed over or hit or stepped on.  With no one to give hugs I would go over and pick them up until the crying subsided but by that time there was another in need of comfort.  I'd go from one to the next- helping with owies and bug bites, swollen faces and hurt feelings.  It was like I had no choice- my instincts kicked into breaking up fights and wiping tears, giving hugs and holding heads.  Maybe the next visit will be easier.  Did I ask to see this?  Was I asked to witness this?  Now that I've seen them what do i do?  Now that I've seen I have a responsibility.  What they need- I just don't know.  Of all I've seen in Africa this is most tragic.  How can I come home?  I once was blind but now I see and I've changed.  How can I come home and not be bitter- no want to vomit at the society I come from, at the mentalities we obliviously indulge in, thinking 

it's normal.  I come from the richest society in the history of the world, now I've seen this - this earthly kingdom is so upside down.

Psalm 22:1-2, 42

Psalm 130

                                                                                                                     --jenessa lynn