An update from Marina

When I was asked to write a blog post about my time in Tanzania I was instantly overwhelmed. What do I write about? How could I possibly pick ONE thing? Which would be why this is being written after the fact but better late than never. Finally a topic just hit me one day, Abel. 

Abel is a 5 year old boy and the latest Sunrise of Life recruit. When I arrived in Tanzania he had only been at the residential centre for 1 month. His mother had brought him to SOL begging them to take him in, she was pregnant again and Abel already has one younger sibling and she just couldn’t take care of all of them. Abel was already going to the streets to beg for money for his mother at 5 years old. So a couple of the workers went to meet Abel, they had already told his mother that they couldn’t take any kids in until September but then they would for sure. When they met Abel he hadn’t eaten in 4 days and was very sick, they had a decision to make. The only thing they asked themselves was: “If we don’t take him in now, will he even be here in September?”. So Abel moved into the residential centre.

 

The first thing I noticed about this little boy is how quiet he was. He almost seemed scared of the adults, when one of the mamas said something to him he would just stare straight ahead with no answer. So I asked Peace. Well. Abel can’t speak Swahili. It wasn’t that he was AFRAID of anything, he just couldn’t UNDERSTAND anything. He speaks his mother’s language, I can’t remember exactly which language that might be, but it is not something that anybody at the centre speaks. The only one that has any knowledge of this mystery language is Isaak (Kurwah), one of the older boys. Isaak is from the same place as Abel so he is familiar with the language but is nowhere near fluent. When Abel was brought into the residential centre, Isaak was taken aside and asked to keep an eye on the little one and help him as much as he could. There really wasn’t much else anyone could do.

 

Since he was brought into SOL partway through the year Abel wasn’t registered in school, so while all of the other kids were at school he was the only one left at the centre. This meant that he got a little more attention from Anetta and I. The first thing we did was pull a notebook and pen out and started to teach him the alphabet. That quickly turned into teaching him how to HOLD a pen, then how to make a straight line, and THEN we moved onto letters. It was instantly obvious that he has never held a pen in his life and that was something that really struck me. I know kids in Canada that are 2 years old or younger that will grab a pen and scribble on a piece of paper. Granted there is no real substance to these scribblings but my point is they know how to HOLD a pen. Just one of the many things I took for granted.

 

After the first day of teaching Abel he was attached to us. When we walked outside one of the first kids to grab our hands was Abel. And it was a miraculous change. He went from being this shy, almost sullen child to giggles and smiles all the time. At one point, Anetta and I went on a 4 day safari, which was easily the worst experience while in Tanzania but that’s a different story. Since we were having such a terrible time we were missing the kids and when we got back it was an enormous relief. The morning after we returned I walked outside to say hi to all of the kids and when Abel saw me he got the biggest grin on his face and he RACED across the lawn and jumped in my arms. And there he stayed for the rest of the morning. I would put him down and he just stood there until I picked him up again. He was just so happy to see me.

 

As for the language issue, he is still young and by the time we left he was not only catching onto to Swahili but he also had a fairly good handle on English. I had a habit of just speaking to the kids in English and if they understood me, great, if they didn’t, oh well. Anyway, there was so many instances I would do this with Abel just because he always seemed to be around me. Just small things like “Go wash your face.” or “Can you hand me that lid?”. And he would. It completely baffled me. There was one day I was having a water fight with Abdul Maliki. We had a little Coke bottle that had a hole bunched in the lid and we were fighting over the bottle, squirting each other. At one point, I had run into the garden where Jackson, the social worker, was gathering some vegetables to take into Arusha and I used him as a shield to protect me from Abdul. Abdul set the Coke bottle on the ground to taunt me and tempt me to run around Jackson to try and grab it. I looked past Abdul and saw that Abel had followed us into the garden so I yelled at him: “Abel! Grab that bottle and throw it to me!”. Abdul just kind of snickered, I mean Abel doesn’t understand Swahili, he didn’t expect him to understand my English. Abel got this HUUUUUGE grin on his face and he runs to the bottle, picks it up and throws it right over Abdul’s head. There was a solid couple seconds where all 3 of us (Jackson, Abdul and I) just stared at each other in complete shock, not entirely sure what had just happened. Abel just stood there with the huge grin plastered on his face.

 

On our last night, Abel was one of the kids I was worried about leaving. He is new to the centre so we were the first volunteers he had met and I wasn’t sure he understood that we had to leave. In all honesty, I’m still not sure he understood. But I pulled Isaak aside and asked him if he could explain to Abel specifically that we were going home as well as he could. I looked over later that night and Abel was laying on a bench, fast asleep. I picked him up and carried him to his bed and my last memory of him was giving him a kiss good night.

 

My six weeks in Tanzania was easily the best experience of my life. Being surrounded by kids like Abel changed me forever. Thank you to everyone at Sunrise of Life that made it possible for me to go there and everyone that made this such an unforgettable experience. I am already eagerly looking forward to returning!