Red Rover Red Rover Send Awareness Right Over

Every day, the energetic little beings would greet me with open arms screaming in Xhosa.  Within two weeks I had accomplished knowing the names of about half the class.  Their eyes would sparkle in response to me calling their name.  Feeling special seems to be the ultimate sensation to them.  Overtime they started to catch on to my name and would scream out to me for some recognition.

Towards the end of the school days, we have outdoor play in the school yard.  All the little ones release bursts of joyous screams and punches to the sky as we march outside.  Today Naomi and I will teach them Red Rover for the first time.  Maybe a little over ambitious, but we'll see what happens!  Phumla translates the directions to the miniature ears and we give it an enthusiastic go.  For the most part they got the idea, however, ended up morphing it a bit to their liking.

Sisonke (at top)

 Then there's always the spacey kids that have the wandering eyes.  "Sisonke! Sisonke!"  Finally his wobbling head finds its balance and looks around wide eyed at the screaming of his name.  "Run, Sisonke!"  At that he runs with all his might and unfortunately doesn't burst through the arms like he had hoped, instead he hangs his limp body on the wee little arms in an attempt for gravity to lend a helping hand.





Every Monday we would teach computer skills at the local orphanage.  It had been raining one Monday and murky puddles spotted the yards.  The children used a minor hill as a Slip 'N Slide by running and chucking their bodies onto the earth.

After a while, I strayed from the computer scene along with Ana and Amanda (fellow volunteers) into the building that the orphans resided in.  Along with all the fun, the rain also brought muddy footprints which decorated the entrance and tiled hallways.  As we followed the freshly made footprints, we passed bedrooms containing two to three sets of bunk beds.  Children ranging from one to six or seven played with each other and their toys, running in and out all the while giggling at these simple pleasures.  Finally we came to the end of the hallway and turned into the last bedroom.  There lied a cradle holding a three month old baby girl.  She was the youngest orphan there.  Her rounded face seemed so peaceful in her dream-state.  I was given the permission to hold this bundle of innocence and stare into the creamy, brown eyes. I was told that it is completely fine for a mother to leave her child at the police station no questions asked. One eight week old baby was actually found in the bush on the side of the road. There were many other stories shared with me, however, they seem almost too intense to share over a simple blog.

Ana and I 

We were able to play with the other children for a bit as well before we had to head back to Cintsa East.  One child had the chubbiest cheeks and would latch onto me once I had him in my arms.
 Another child had Severe Alcoholism Syndrome.  This occurs when the mother is intoxicated almost the entire time she is pregnant.  If you look closely at the child's face, you are able to see the difference.  Unbelievable.

Here in Cintsa, there's lots of play time and not nearly as much serious work time like what I'm used to seeing back in America.  Everyone here just takes a piss out of everyone and talks shit to each other in order to forget about those silly worries.  I've got to say that is quite a nice remedy whenever you might be fretting!

Note the wording on the shirt.