On Tuesday we divided into two
different groups-group A and group B. (I’m in group A). We had a 20-minute bus
ride to another Child Development Center.
As we walked off the bus, the children put necklaces on us that they had
made themselves. Like the first day, the
children danced and sang for us once we entered the chapel. Music and dance is a huge part of Tanzanian
life. The pastor welcomed us and told us
about their program that helps the children.
He then excused us to lunch. The
lunch was delicious. It included rice,
beef, potatoes, vegetables, fruit, and soda.
After we ate lunch, we went outside to play with the kids (the ones I
played with were all around my age). Just
like the first day, the kids were so welcoming and loving. It was probably a treat to have someone close
to their age. They repeatedly said my
name (Emma is usually a boy’s name in Tanzania.
It’s short for Emmanuel) and were also quite fascinated with the color
of my skin. We were the first group of
Americans to visit this particular area, so many of them had never seen a white
person before. We went to a little field
where my mom and I pulled out some chocolate eggs. I expected them to just wait for their turn
to receive the chocolate, but once I opened the bag, they all tried to reach
inside and push each other out of the way.
It was a bit crazy, but I guess we’re not the only place where people go
crazy for chocolateJ. Then we walked through their little village
to get to their primary school where a few of the girls and I passed a soccer
ball around the circle. I realized,
though, that some of the younger children around us were staring at me. I was an obvious foreigner, so it was a
little scary for them at first, but they soon got comfortable with me.
We passed the ball to each other
and said our names as we caught it.
There were actually some names that are common in the U.S. like Rachel,
Leah, and Lucy. In another area, our
team was teaching the kids games like football (which turned into rugby because
it was too hard to explain all the rules), soccer, jump rope and frisbee. My mom was also sitting under a tree
teaching kids tic, tac toe and other games on paper.
After playing that for a little
while we went back to the chapel where the children sang and danced for us
again. But this time, the children
wanted me to dance with them. I tried my
best, but I wasn’t as good as they were.
They have grown up dancing and singing their whole lives; it’s so
natural for them. Then it was our
turn. My mom got to teach everyone 3
Christian songs and lead us all in worship.
She said she felt very honored to teach them some of our favorite
songs.
Our leader then announced that we
would be visiting one of the sponsor children’s homes. He warned us, though, not to comment on
things in their house (like to compliment on a nice object they have) or else
they will want to give that object to us.
The Tanzanians want to serve you in any way possible. We went to a home with a 13 year old daughter
and her mother. They did not speak
English, so we had a translator. They
actually didn’t show us much of the inside of their house. We mostly just stayed in the main
entrance. The home was very small,
especially considering that 5 people lived there. The entire place was made out of wood and
mud. Inside was one small sitting area
and 3 bedrooms with curtains and doors.
The home was about the size of a large U.S. bedroom. The kitchen was outside in a little hut. It mostly had some clay cooking pots and a few
stones to cook on. The home was surrounded
by cornfields, which is their source of income.
Soon it was time to go back to the chapel. The children sang and danced for us
again! This time there were two little
boys who danced in front. They were so
adorable.
Then it was time to say goodbye
(always the hardest part of the day).
Everyone shook hands with me and I thanked them for having us. The girls swarmed around me and said goodbye
multiple times. As I walked into the
bus, they came to the window and held my hands.
We said “I love you” in Swahili until the bus drove away.
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