Reaching the end

This morning started off with a bang. Woke up at 6:45, and talked to Ryan on skype. Refreshing conversation, the first one I’ve had with him in 10 weeks. It was great to catch up, and I saw his roommates Shane and Pat as well. After that was breakfast, which was normal. We left for the service sites and got there, did a devotion to start and then headed down to the house.

Once we got to the house, we started right up with the mud on the house. In the back, Carmen, Matt, Melinda, and I were working hard all day, and we needed some sort of entertainment so we heard Carmen’s life story. It was great, the third life story in as many days, and this led to plenty of conversation about Christianity, theology, other religions, philosophy, and huge questions. A great conversation that we all walked away from in a state of contemplation. We finished almost all the walls, and tomorrow we will be done with that for sure. It was another productive day, despite the fact that it was 35 degrees (that’s really 95 degrees) and humid.

We took a nice walk up the hill, and Matt and I stormed up it in less than 20 minutes, which is easily a new record. Matt even sprinted up part of it. We ran into a child named Tabizwe, and kidnapped him to take him across the street to Walk in the Light. Lunchtime led to naptime, and when I woke up I had been asleep for an hour. I woke up just in time to play the part of the man who was mugged in the Good Samaritan story. The translator (Snesh) was interactive, so the students had to respond about the story and it was the best story time so far. The other reason it was the best story time so far was because I was in it.

Story time led to games, and the first game was goats and the fence. They sure do love that game. Next was relays, which was disorganized and great, because everyone believed they won. One of the relays had everyone standing with their legs spread, and the person crawling through their legs to the front of the line. When it was my turn, I was army crawling just to fit below them, and 2 different kids both decided it would be funny to sit on me as I was going through. It was crazy and I’m pretty sure my team won. The next game was tag, which quickly fell apart into kids doing whatever they felt like. I found a kid with a Frisbee, and we played for a little bit. Two of his friends joined us, and while at first I was trying to teach him a forehand, by the end I gave up and just played around and did things he thought was cool, such as throwing the disc through my legs or bouncing it off the ground. They loved it when I bounced it, so I taught them how to bounce it and they loved me. They thought I was the coolest person ever, and I loved it. When I had to go, I told them to practice and they promised they would. Then I got in the vehicle.

Today was a hard day to leave because it’s the second to last day, and the last day with the kids. I won’t see most of those kids again, and I was doubting that I had any influence on them, and I was sitting in the bus as we were about the leave. The kids lined the sides of the bus and were saying bye to us, so I opened the window and stuck my hand out to wave. Teb, one of the first children I met, came up and gave me a high five. I said, “Bye Teb,” and he responded with “Bye Mackenzie.” I had no idea anyone there knew my name, so this was so surprising. After he said that, Mongolisa echoed with “Bye Mackenzie,” and then everyone in that group of 10+ kids yelled “Bye Mackenzie.” When I was questioning whether I had made a difference at all, and they all yelled my name when they were saying bye, that opened my eyes to the opportunity we had and the impact we were making. It was such a great experience.

We left and came back to AE, and we showered, I blogged, and then we went to dinner. It was basically quality time at Project Gateway, which was an old prison. They took us on a “haunted” tour, which was really fun, and basically the same as the tour we took before except there was Mitch, John, and Rachel waiting in an old cell waiting to scare us. I knew it was coming (because I’m crafty and manipulative) and it still scared the crap out of me when Mitch jumped out and grabbed Zach. Sophia ran all the way down the stairs and out the door when it happened. It was frightening knowing it was coming. We had a delicious dinner of Debonairs Pizza, which is the second time I’ve had it this week and I was selfish and hoarded 8 pieces for myself and I don’t regret a thing.

After we got back to AE, Colton, Destiny, Shelli, Alison, Heather, and I all played a quality game of Quelf. It was the first time I had played in a while, and it was so much fun. I always got the cards to do things, such as building a fort, writing a poem, or creating a Halloween mask. Everyone won (especially Shelli, because she won the final competition) and it was great. And now it’s bed time, in preparation for the final day at service sites tomorrow. Weird, right?

Now this isn’t really about my feelings, but I feel like I would be lying if I didn’t include anything about my feelings. It’s a really weird place to be. I’ve been away from America for a complete 10 weeks now, and I’m missing home a bit. I’ve been working at this service site for 13 days so far, and I only have one day left. Two days into it, it felt like I had been working forever, but now I feel like I just started. The time flew by. While I was looking forward to every day and enjoying each one, I feel like I was sort of looking past it. This was the time period that I had been looking forward to for so long, and while I feel like I experienced plenty, have seen a lot, changed, and made an impact, I’m not ready for it to be over. I’m not ready to not see any of those kids again. I’m not ready to not play soccer with Spay again. My heart breaks for him, because I know he’s from an alcoholic father who beats him regularly. So this joyful kid I see running around (despite the fact that he can be a total brat sometimes) is going to continue to be beat long after I leave. Is there anything I can do? No. Unfortunately, there’s no action I can take that would save Spay from this fate. And I hate it.

It’s not that I feel like I’m abandoning them, because I knew I couldn’t save them. I’ve always known I can’t save them. The problem that I have is that I can’t do anything. I’m leaving these people to their fate, and think that by building a house I can make everything right when that’s not the way things work; things will continue just as they were before I got here long after I leave. But Maybis will have a house.

Maybis will have her house and her garden. Teb will have his Frisbee. Spay will have his soccer. Mongolisa will be at Walk in the Light. There are so many lives that I’ve impacted, and whether or not I can see the change tangibly, I have done something. As those men said to PJ while he was walking down the hill, we’re making a huge difference just by being here and the town is different while we’re around. These people who feel unimportant and neglected are having people come from over 10,000 miles away just to spend time with them. If that doesn’t make an impact on them, I’m not sure what will.

I’m so glad that my worksite was Walk in the Light. Not to badmouth any other worksite, but I really loved mine. I loved everything about it, from the soccer with a child who is just as good as me to building to naptime to running down a road with dozens of kids chasing me. I got the lasting effect I wanted, which will come from the house and gate and garden and time spent in Maybis’ yard. I know that, regardless of how people’s memories are, that house is going to stay strong, and I know that I made that tangible, concrete impact. I formed relationships with people that are my age as well, such as Sihle, Alfred, Tash, Baby J, and Snesh. I’m even friends with some on Facebook! But I formed relationships with people I can relate to but who are so different from me despite the similarities. And I got to work with the kids, which was the fun part. And it was surprisingly more fulfilling than I thought it would be, especially today when I heard them remember my name. I think that will have more of an impact on me than anything else. I had the opportunity to visit people in their houses, and to see what their living situations were. I’m grateful for every part of my worksite, and if I had the opportunity, I wouldn’t have done anything differently. It was all great.

Looking back, I know I made a difference. It’s just hard to prepare to leave, when I know that I haven’t solved all their problems. I knew I wasn’t their savior coming into it, but it’s hard. It’s much easier to see someone suffering when they’re just a no-name to you; the instant they become real, it becomes difficult. And to me, there are now 50 kids who are really suffering in Haniville. I know there’s more, but I can see the faces of the children that are deprived of love, put through abuse, have HIV, or are destined for crime because of the poverty they’ve been raised in. Before, they were children. Now, they’re the children I’ve come to love, and the children that it hurts me to see hurt. It’s hard, but they’ll get through. I know I need to trust in God with this, and that’s what I’m going to do with all this. Because it’s all I can do.

I hope this doesn’t leave a bad taste in your mouth. It’s hard to leave, but it’s normal. It’s natural. I would rather leave now with this pain than to have continued not knowing these children. And I’m grateful for every second I’ve had so far. And I’m grateful for every second I have left.