Day 8, Part 2: Gifts of Renewal

They are beautiful children.
They live in a village of orphan-headed households in the hills outside Kigali. The houses, built by SURF, have turquoise-colored walls inside and rust-red stucco outside. The view is serene and the gardens are pleasant.
Our group met the head of the village, an orphan himself, in his house as all the children crowded up to the windows and at the door.

They are all orphans, many from AIDS. They are lucky, though; they have a home, a cow, and each other. Two girls in particular had attached babies to their hips.

We came to them to hear their stories, and also to give them gifts, which they wholly deserved. The Canadians brought frisbees; we brought soccer balls and volleyballs (thanks D!) and beanie babies (thanks M.M.!) The gift distribution was hectic, as everyone crowded around.
Then, we all got to playing.

Three heads-of-house joined us, as did an old friend; the girl on the far right, an orphan, survived with the others but has not received a house. Instead, she moves from relative to relative, taking housekeeping jobs that pay about $1/day. She has completed only 2nd grade. For most of these men and women, this is the standard situation - getting tossed around house to house, taking menial labor jobs, and never having a chance for education. They want to start a cassava flour business, but they don't have the capital to begin. They want to attend school, but they don't have the fees and they must put food on the table. Meanwhile, the land of their mothers and fathers is too dangerous for them to return to and lies fallow.

It was wonderful to see these young adults - who have given up their childhood to care for others, and who work hard each day to ensure the continuing security of their adopted siblings - having a chance to laugh and play. For a few hours, they didn't have to be parents.
As we walked back to the vans, the female head of house slipped her arm around my waist. The children ran along down the rutted road beside us. "Murabeyho!" (Goodbye) I kept repeating; they said "Bye bye!"
I do not know Kinyarwanda, but I know what they meant in their smiles, and that is why I smiled along with them.