At 1PM, we were scheduled to meet Godfrey at a different Muzungu Mall. You may be wondering what Muzungu means. Well, it’s the word for white person. The malls are like “white person malls”. Later in the day, another Muzungu and I were laughed at for drinking coffee like it was a snack, and not with a meal. At the children’s village where we went to meet Aida, we pulled up in a little jeep-like vehicle and the shout went out around the village, “MUZUNGUS!!!!!” and everyone flocked to the top of the hill.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Along with Godfrey, I met a woman named Jurjanne. Jurjanne is a Dutch woman living here in Africa with her husband, and the non-profit foundation they work for is a sponsoring organization for the children’s village where Aida lives. Because there are 350 children in the village, and just one director (who is apparently not so good at directing, but very good at loving these children like his own), the decision was made early on for Jurjanne (pronounced Yur-yon’-na) and her husband Chris, and the other employees of Kaja Foundation to direct the medical care of Aida because the decisions for her needed to be made individually and not based on the needs of the entire village. So, for 6 months now, Jurjanne, and another employee of Kaja, Elisa, have been the ones hunting down care for Aida. And believe me, they have done everything possible to keep Aida alive! Jurjanne told me today that many people have criticized her for the money spent to keep this one child alive when the money could go for food and clothing for the other 300 children, but she explained that she has comforted a scared Aida and promised her she would do everything she could to help. So, at what point does she say that this one life has cost her too much money? I thanked her over and over for taking the time for this one little life and assuring her that we felt the same way. When we first started the adoption, the money was primarily a concern for us, but as we learned more about Aida, and saw the hope restored in her for life and a family (or, a mother’s love as they say here), the financial things were not the concern any more. I think for us (and really, any other person with a heart) that when the need becomes personal, when you’ve looked into a child’s eyes, the group mentality fades away and you become much more focused on what you can do for that one child.Jurjanne and I talked for quite some time about Aida and what our expectations were of the day, and then we went to her car, with Frank, and started the drive to the children’s village. We bounced our way through the streets of Kampala, weaving through traffic. I was highly amused by the conversations with other drivers. As she cut into a line of cars, the other driver kept pressing her and she leaned out the window and shouted, “Don’t be rude, sir!” As we sat waiting at a police checkpoint, she struck up a conversation with a woman by the road and I was almost sad when our turn came to make it through the checkpoint.
We drove for about 45 minutes, and even though Jurjanne suggested I close my eyes and rest, I couldn’t. Everywhere I looked there were things to see and take pictures of and the colors....the colors are just amazing! Such a feast for the eyes! Eventually, Jurjanne said, “We are close now,” and I began to take special attention of all the things that Aida sees every day of her life. We pulled off the main paved road and onto a small one lane dirt road that went up into the bush. We stopped to take a photo of the children’s village from far away. The bright green and red roofs stand out, and you can easily see the construction of 4 new children’s homes. We continued to drive about a mile or so to the gate of Bulamu, where were greeted by boys doing the every day work of hauling water. Jurjanne asked to speak to Uncle Joseph, the director of the village, but we were informed that he had gone, along with the social worker, to another village to help a boy there.
It was at this point that Jurjanne told me that she has not told Aida that we were visiting. You see, Aida has not lived with her parents for more than 5 years, but before she became very ill, she lived with her aunt and siblings just a couple miles from Bulamu. When her aunt grew tired of caring for this “lazy child” she sent her to Bulamu, where they quickly realized that Aida’s complaints of her chest hurting and being unable to walk quickly were not laziness, but a much more serious problem. Since that time, about 1 year ago, Aida’s aunt has visited her with the siblings, but has been quite manipulative with the staff at Bulamu. Jurjanne knew that if the auntie heard the Muzungus were coming, she would be there asking for money and that was not how she wanted our meeting to go. As we walked down to the building that Aida calls home, Jurjanne was continually greeted by child after child. There are 350 children living in Bulamu, and Jurjanne knows each one by name, and knows their situation. They are so close to her heart and she does anything she can for each one. Every child comes to her with wide open arms and greets her with a long long hug and special words. Then she would say, “Meet my friend, Mary” and the child would turn to me with open arms and say, “It’s nice to meet you, in Jesus name!” and give a big long hug as well. There are children from infants (not as many) through 18 or 20 years of age living here, and they are welcome to stay as long as they are in school. Once they graduate they must leave the village and get work or go to school, and this requires a sponsor for each child. Kaja Foundation and Bulamu have so many children that are in need of sponsorship for secondary school and college, and it was explained that these are very personal sponsorships. They really hope that the sponsor will develop a close relationship with the child, even inviting them to spend time with them in their own country if possible by law, and making sure the child knows that they are individually loved by one person especially. Bulamu is not a village for adoption. The goal is to raise Godly men and women as Ugandans, to remain here and be a strong example of leadership in their own country. It is only because of Aida’s health that she is allowed to be adopted from Bulamu, and after visiting the village, I can see why. These children are so secure here, so loved, and are so loving. There is absolutely no fighting or quarreling allowed. No raised voices in anger that I saw, and the children are instructed to care for each other and look out for each other’s needs. This attention to other people is given in return to them.
We walked into the house that Aida calls home, and we did not see her. The house mother motioned that she was around the corner, so Jurjanne went to get her. Aida peeked her head out of the kitchen and saw me and came straight away to give me a hug. Of course I started to cry and my first thoughts were of how beautiful she is. It’s not just physical beauty, but there is a real gentleness about her smile and her spirit. Aida is almost exactly the same height as Lydia, I think, and about the same weight. She clung to me for a couple minutes, but kept her eyes down, her lips clamped shut, which I’m coming to recognize as her shyness. She is very self conscious.We sat down on the couch and I asked her some questions but she still would not look at me. She would do a small nod of the head or a shake, but no indication of any answer. Then I realized I had my cell phone in my hand, and I turned it on to show her that I had her picture as my wallpaper there. That made her smile for just a tiny bit, and then I opened up the camera app. I showed her the pictures I had of her, and she wasn’t very interested, but then I came to the pictures from home. Each new picture that came up, she would say, louder and louder, the person’s name, more and more confident. “Gwen! LYDIA! Phoebe! SamuEL” And her favorite name to say...Pierre, pronounced “PierrAY”. I showed her some random videos I had on my phone, kicking myself that I didn’t take more deliberate ones before I left. She watched us sing Happy Birthday to Doug, and watched him blow out his candles. She watched Pierre dance to music, and watched him stand up by himself. But the one that caused the bursts of laughter from her was of Pierre trying to blow a horn, and his surprise and laughter when he finally succeeded.
This whole time, there were crowds of children pressing in on us. Maybe 30 or 40 children getting closer and closer, pressing down on my shoulders, my head, my arms, my legs...all trying to see the videos and pictures. The room grew hotter and hotter and hotter, and just when I thought I couldn’t stand it one more second, Jurjanne brought me a cup of steaming hot coffee! lol She shooed everyone away so I could drink it and Aida motioned to me that she wanted to look at the pictures again. I handed her the iphone and told her she could take pictures of her friends as well, if she wanted to. Off she went with her friends, and they loaded up my camera with posed shots. A preteen is a preteen, no matter the country! :)
I spent time talking to Aida’s housemother, and while, on the surface it was a good conversation, it was quite difficult. You see, over a month ago, Jurjanne and Hedda noticed that Aida had lost more weight and they found a doctor who helped them with nutrition. The housemother was given special instructions for feeding Aida. She gets lots of light foods...fruits and non-starchy vegetables, light carbs and lots of protein. But the food that comes into the house for Aida isn't necessarily given to her. The housemother has no explanation for where the food goes, even going so far as to say that it is always given to her. J., the house-mother cares for 30 other girls and finds it annoying that so much care must be given to one. So, in my conversation yesterday, while I was aware of what had happened with her, I did not mention it. I did say that we were very grateful for the help that she had given Aida and would be more grateful if she could put some weight on before she came back to the US and had surgery, but then did not say anything else. I asked some rather mundane cultural questions and chit-chatted about the weather, but then turned my attention back to Aida.
I learned today that most of the local birth parents will pierce at least one ear of their child when they are born because after they are pierced they cannot be sacrificed to other gods. It’s a measure of prevention. So, I looked at Aida and noticed that she has two pierced ears, and I asked when the other one was done. “Oh,” came the reply, “the girls pierce their own ears when they enter the home here.” I told Aida that she must be very brave because our 9 year old....and ME...both do not have pierced ears because we don’t like pain. She laughed and then said something to the housemother. The other pierced ear is done with a thorn! When a new girl comes, they help her fit in by taking a thorn from the bush near the house and sticking it through her ear! Welcome to the family!
We asked Aida if she had any questions, and she asked about sleeping arrangements. I told her that generally a new child sleeps in the room with Mama & Papa for a long time and with her it would definitely be the case as her heart is so poor. She smiled in agreement and then asked if everyone could sleep with us as well. I explained that what was likely to happen was that everyone would drag their sleeping bags, bean bag chairs, etc into the room and we would probably all share a room for a few days while she was settling in.
Two hours with Aida quickly came to an end. Just as we were leaving, I remembered to tell Aida that Grandma was coming in two days and she would come right out and see her at the village on the weekend. She beamed at that, but then quickly went back to her shy face. Jurjanne and I walked back up the hill to the car and said goodbye to the couple hundred children that followed us up. Just as I got in the car, a boy dashed up to the car and said, “Aida’s mama, Aida’s mama! I have a message for you!” He had been sent by Aida to tell me two very important pieces of news. She really wants braids in her hair (like Lydia’s) and she wants to learn to play the piano (one of the videos she watched was of my piano teacher playing the piece I am learning for the recital). I told the boy to tell her that everyone gets music lessons in our family if this is what they desire, and that she absolutely may have long hair. He gave me another hug in the name of Jesus, and dashed back down the hill to deliver my message.
All the way home, I talked to Jurjanne about Aida’s situation and about the timeline possibilities. If we find out this week that court is quick, then what should we do with Aida? If I have to go home and come back for court, what should be done with Aida. The Kaja Foundation has recently opened a baby home in Kampala, again, not for the purposes of adoption, but for reunification with family or relatives and domestic adoptions if needed. There are special nurses there and very good food, and it seems that for a short term solution, moving Aida there might be good, especially if court is quick. Then she would be close enough to visit, close to the heart institute of Kampala and away from the house mother who is stealing from her.
Please pray for wisdom for us in this situation. Aida has close friends at Bulamu, and it is a shame to take her away from them for these last few weeks, but it could eventually mean the difference between life and death for her.Today (Monday) starts the meetings I will have with our attorney, gently pushing for our paperwork to be filed in court and expedition requested.
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