The What Day Is it? Post.
Thursday. We leave tomorrow. I am so ready. But I am so bummed. I am ready to see the Punks and anxious to introduce them to their new sister and sink into the honeymoon phase... deeply. I'm ready for a nice clean hot shower and a salad. On the other hand, I haven't learned enough Amharic nor absorbed enough of this country.
Have I mentioned the development? There are new buildings and houses being constructed everywhere. The roads are markedly improved since I was here in 2010, and Dani tells us that when we come back in 4 years the railway system will be finished, and all of the highways completed. I don't know why he said we'd be back in 4 years... but I am not ruling it out.
We got Sitota's passport and immigration and immunization information today. Done. Ready to board the plane.
Then Dani took the 3 of us out for a little shopping in the market, and to visit the Kolfe boys. I don't know how much energy I can give to writing about Kolfe right now. We brought a bunch of sneakers, played a little basketball, talked with the manager, listened to one of the boys play “One Love” on his keyboard, hugged some small people, and some taller people, made up some funny handshakes, and I stood stupidly not knowing what to say to the boys who stood around me in a crowd and asked, “please will you be my mom? I need a Mom.”
And we didn't even go to Kechene, where the government run girl's orphanage is. Far fewer guests, do, but when we went in 2010, it hurt, too.
Hey, visiting orphans isn't always easy. The basketball games are and the nail polish, and to some extent even the hugs, are. But when you feel the hand reaching to hold one of your fingers or your elbow or tell you that your frekles are Jesus kisses... Oh, I don't know. If feels almost stupid, sometimes to go and do so little.
And then you get family gifts from someone, ok an orphan, who writes to you about feeling comfort and encouragement because of a hug you gave him 2 years ago. And he writes things like “You are a real mama to all kolfe.” and you know you'll bring your stupid sneakers and go back and stand stupidly when you're asked hard questions. Because if that's the perception of what a real mama is, then... well.
Happy interlude: before we left the guest house a pair of 18 month old twins with the loveliest round chunka cheeks came into the house. They are on their way home to Washington. They are so yummy.
We were so very tired from our day so far, but friends Sally and Tom Baer and 3 of their delightful kids joined us for dinner. It was a busy night for the guest house, so we elected to go for pizza. It was nice to laugh and catch up. Wonderful to see how their children have grown in 2 years, and to see them all doing so well.
Sitota napped in the car a bit, but was tired when we came home. We bonded over bath time. She still prefers Rob to carry her everywhere, but she's sharing her attention and affection a little more freely. Bath time is Mama Time. Again after her bath she insisted on putting her shoes back on, even though she was wearing footie pjs. Chamas and pajamas... that's how we roll.
Hard to believe I get to be her Mama.