Kangas...and finding my purpose

The women in East Africa are well known for their brightly colored clothes, particularly a garment called the kanga. It's an amazingly versatile piece of cloth that they use for everything from head wraps to shirts to dresses/skirts to grocery bags to baby carriers! I am fascinated with what I like to call the "Baby in a Pouch" use. Somehow mothers can tie their infant or toddler onto their back by using ONLY a kanga. It looks a bit like a baby in a brightly colored backpack, with just the little baby head and feet poking out. I've tried to spy on a few mothers while they secure their babies this way, but have not been successful in figuring out how they do this Baby in a Pouch trick. I might ask Mama Lilian to show me tonight, as today I purchased my very own kanga! It's pink and yellow and says "Natural Woman" in Swahili. =)

Last week I was feeling pretty homesick and had a couple of days where I just wanted to go home. The language barrier is definitely an issue, but there are plenty of other challenges here that make me feel as though I'm not getting anything done or being of any help. However, seeing the wonderful program at Amani yesterday gave me hope again and this morning I woke up with a great deal of clarity and a feeling of purpose. I know that I can help TAFCOM to develop and fund their Children's Center.

Before I left for Africa, my friend Jane jokingly predicted that I was going to return to the States with an adopted child. This was quite funny to me, because I have never had a desire to have children (and still don't! Don't worry, Buddy!). But in a way Jane was right - I have been deeply affected by the 35 TAFCOM kids and their families, and have a strong desire to help them in whatever way I can.

Certainly people like Happiness and Amose have also made a strong impression on me, but the harsh fact is that Happiness and Amose are dying of AIDS and there isn't anything I can do to save them. Yes, we might be able to make their transition a little easier and their deaths a little more comfortable, but in the very near future they will be gone. And then what will happen to their son? Where does that leave him but on the street, without an education, and destined to repeat the same cycle of poverty and, very likely, disease? What if he had the opportunity to go to school, had a bed to sleep on, and got to eat three meals each day? Surely that isn't a substitute for having loving parents, but if TAFCOM was able to provide those things for him then maybe, just maybe, he would have a shot at living a better life than his parents were able to live. And maybe, just maybe, there is something I can do to help.