I received an awesome birthday box last week. Today (ok every day the kids stand outside a barbed wire fence at the front, back, and side of my house calling for me to come play) so today I thought I’d bring out the NEW soccer ball for a kick or two.
There is a girl’s primary school right next to my house. They too stand calling for me to come and talk to them.
I have tentative plans with many of them for the coming weeks to visit their homes and meet their families. I brought the soccer ball to the school as they requested and got mobbed by 200 girls. I threw the ball unaware that we were playing kill the carrier. Some chased after it. Many stayed to pet my hair and rub the white off of my arms. I have been in my village for 2 ½ months now and we still go through this every day. But hey I’m not complaining about their constant compliments on how they just want to look at me because I’m beautiful (oh children, I love you) and I’m definitely not going to argue with anyone who wants to play with my hair. Ya, I think I can manage for 2 years! ;)
They also beg me to dance with them. I imitate or at least try and they think it is hilarious. I have no problem making a fool of myself for kids. I leave them with nothing less then the best white girl dance I got in me. Seriously they all erupt with squeals and laughter, which only draws the town’s attention even further. Though I’m starting not to notice that everyone is constantly watching every move I make. I’m getting suffocated and lost in the sea of blue and pink uniforms. I manage to escape by saying: look is that Obama. I chase after my soccer ball and run like I’ve never run before back to my home. Reminder: We are in Kenya, these kids can run yo.
The neighborhood kids follow behind and we continue playing a more manageable sized soccer game on my compound. Rather I should be saying futbol.
The mamas have been watching and they call me over to the fence, meanwhile the school girls line up along the other side of the fence (I’m really not kidding when I say I have people watching me ALL the time.) I talk to the mamas selling sugarcane and get an invitation, mostly prompted by myself, to go to her shamba (farm) tomorrow afternoon.
I go back to playing futbol. We have played all afternoon and I’m surprised the ball is still intact and has not been popped yet. I could play with these kids all night…until they find an injured bat. One kid is picking it up by its wing. Then launches it at me and finds it funny that I am scared of that and run. To reiterate if you did not get that…they are now throwing a half alive/ dying bat at me. Not only is he laughing but the mamas, the school girls, the other kids, and the men who have stopped to watch. I again for the second time of the day grab the futbol and high tail it to my house as fast as I can.
The kids continue grabbing the bat and chucking it up in the air. It flies for a bit then drops to the ground. The futbol is now inside, safe, with me so they throw the bat at each other for 10 minutes. A few times they knocked on my door to get me to come back outside. Ummm ya, I’m not gonna open my door to get a bat thrown at me. I like sports. I like tag. I like Batman. I like cultural exchange. But I am no fan of Bat Tag. Thanks, but I'm gonna sit this one out.
