Passion

I am heading east towards Africa, with Peter at my side.  No matter what, I could be heading anywhere in the world on a 24 hour journey, and my heart would be pining for Africa.  I equate these long journeys with my eye on the prize, like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.  My pot of gold is Nagolie, full of the children who know Auntie Simmie MUST be coming soon.  They sense my arrival, as accurately as I am anticipating their beautiful faces, greeting me with unabashed love and excitement. I am completely filled with joy, with the reality that we will all be reuniting in less than 30 hours.  Back to the land I love.  Back home.

During the last three months, I have been in regular contact with Denis and Tony.  Both have implored me to send money for food.  In their own distinct ways, both have indicated that I can't get there soon enough.  I should have been there yesterday.  Please come.  Naserian is sick.  Njenga had to be picked up from his new school and was hospitalized for malaria.  Agnes won't pay his hospital bill, and the hospital won't release him.  Susan hasn't been feeling well, her allergies have been acting up. Grace has had continuing stomach problems.  Agnes refuses to pick up Margaret and Lydia from school.  The children need you.  There. Is. No. Food.

This past Saturday,  Cary got a call from Emmanuel.  After chatting with him, she asked if he wanted to talk with Auntie Simmie. 

Me:  Habari Emmanuel!  How are you?
E:  Hi Auntie Simmie, I miss you.
Me:  I miss you, and I love you, too.  Emmanuel, can you keep a secret?
E: Yes, yes, yes, you know I can.  Yes. What, Aunt Simmie!?  Tell me!
Me: See you Thursday.  {{{grin, grin, grin}}}

I could feel Emmanuel, 10,000 miles away.  His excitement was palpable, and I was giddy with excitement and the reality of surprising the children with our arrival.  I didn't tell Emmanuel that Emma and Cary would be arriving 3 days after us.  I passed the phone back to Cary, smiling, and thinking "Emmanuel has hope today.  He has something to look forward to".  We're coming, Emmanuel.  As fast as we can.

It's all about passion...and the luck of the draw, to be blessed to find such a passion in this lifetime.  It's been 5 years, almost to the day, that I met my children.  I look back on that day, and marvel at what has happened since.  It was all so formal the day we met.  The children had laid out chairs for us, preparing us for their introductions.... Raquel (my fellow volunteer from Venezuela) and I sat as the children walked to us one by one, lowering their heads in introduction, true to Maasai custom.  They were so reserved, so shy.  I remember pulling a bag of balloons out of my backpack, which immediately broke the ice.  This introduction to the children is etched into my soul.  In two short weeks, we bonded, in a way I had never experienced.  I knew we belonged together, and subsequently struggled to find a way to make sense of this experience, after returning home for Christmas.  I wasn't ready to return, and certainly wasn't prepared for the inevitable re-entry the 'experts' had warned me about.  Finding a balance between this experience and life at home with my family presented a new problem.   I was unable to put my experience aside, unable to process what I had seen: extreme poverty, filth, desperation, sadness, joy, beauty and the innate happiness of children, always resilient to the core.  I desperately missed the children, the land, the culture, and craved the bond we had established.  I couldn't shake the emptiness I was left with.  Peter, always patient, gently prodded me to find a balance.  Yes, I agreed.  I can find this balance, if only I can go back.  "Then you need to go back, because we need you here".  

Today?  I've lost count of how many trips I have taken to Africa.  What matters is that I'm going back, this time with my family - all of us.  It turns out that this passion is highly contagious.  Peter is feeling the same urgency I am, to establish our own rescue center.  Emma was bitten hard by the Nagolie bug - she is experiencing the ever - familiar magnetic draw.  Cary simply needs to be there now - 6 months away from the children is an eternity.   Sam, our cousin from Israel, is meeting Peter and me in Amsterdam, so we can fly together to Nairobi.  He has followed this journey from a distance and wants to be a part of it.  Welcome to our world, Sam.  I can't wait to introduce you to our extended family.  Something tells me Sam is going to be bitten hard :-)

This is going to be a very special trip.  5 sets of hands for 29 children.  Pure bliss, which starts with a gigantic surprise.  I'm almost home.....


Angalia wewe usiku wa leo!!


Nakupenda wote,


Simmie