Culmination

7/4/13

     What a day.  I was unaware so many memorable things could happen all in one day, and I’m anxious to get them all down, lest they fall out of the back of my mind.  The first big change, for me, from every other day was that I did not stay behind and write when the rest of the teens went up the hill to work on the wall.  I went up with them, and gained new respect for what they had been doing.  The sun was hot, the work was difficult, and it was amazing how quickly my arms got tired.  There was also a noticeable difference between the work that I had done and the work that people who had been doing this for the last two weeks.  In case I forgot to mention what it was that the teens had been doing or you’ve forgotten, they have been repairing the mortar between the bricks of the walls around the campus.  They were originally mortared with mud, and it has begun to erode away, quite a bit in some places.  We were going over the original mortar with cement.  If you’ve ever seen my handwriting, you’ll have perspective for what the portion I mortared looks like.  While everyone else’s portions were smooth and even, mine were rough and nowhere near even.  It was almost humorous to see the difference between where they were working and where I was working; you could tell from one brick to another.

     It had become a running joke that James, David’s younger son (who turned twenty while we were here), would only believe that the Holy Spirit was trying to tell him something through people if three different people who hadn’t already communicated said the same thing.  During his time on the wall, two different people had told him that his work was excellent, that he should consider a career in wall work.  They were half joking, of course, but at the beginning of work on the wall he decided that it hadn’t been the Holy Spirit, as only two people had said anything.  After the adults finished the training, J.D. came outside and started making jokes at us, as is his way, and eventually remarked that James was doing an excellent job on his portion of the wall.  Everyone burst out laughing, because he made three.  Later, it came to light that he had been a plant and that someone tall and pale had set that event up to happen.  The look on James’s face was priceless.

     After lunch, we washed dishes as usual, for the last time, and planned the skit for the kids, about the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus.  Once it was planned, we had about an hour-long break, as the adults went back into the training early so that they would finish early to help us with the kids.

     Each day that kids came, we had about thirty, and there were roughly three groups that came, with overlap and some kids that only came once.  They were all invited to come back today, and when they had all been let in, there were over seventy kids that we were in charge of.  The skit went extraordinarily well, and when Christopher, our narrator, described Jesus dying, the kids all let out a sad and surprised “yohhhh!” “Yoh” is a Kirundi exclamation that denotes surprise, excitement, or shock.  I only hope that the message we were trying to convey reached them.

     After the skit, we invited them to have us wash their feet.  I’ve been a part of a foot washing service before, but never as the person doing the washing.  It’s truly an amazing experience to humble yourself just as Jesus did to wash the feet that it would be natural to see as below you.  Naturally, it’s also powerful to be the person who is being washed, as the whole purpose is that someone you perceive to be above you is humbling themselves to appear below you.  The purpose was not lost on the kids, and it was evident in their faces.  I’d look up from their feet to make eye contact with them, and they’d become aware, look up from their feet, and look away from my face and cover their huge smiles with their hands.  After their feet were washed, they were given a t-shirt or pants if they didn’t have any, and sat down.  After the last child was given a shirt, we (the adults, teens, trainees, and kids) were given a private show by a group of ceremonial drummers, the kind that performed at the Independence Day parade, though not the same ones.  Ginger, Julia, Lydia, and I even got a chance to join them.  After the drummers, we said a teary good-bye to the kids for the final time and they left.   After the last kids had left, a couple of women from the Twa village across the valley came with their children, who had been coming to play with us, and presented us with gifts of the pots that they make for a living as thanks for the work that we’d done with their kids.  One woman had her daughter, Hakizimana, and her son, Jagisoni, help her make the pots and etch their names into them.  Hakizimana and Jagisoni had been coming to play with us, almost every day.  My eyes teared up at how grateful they were for such a small thing we’d done: playing with their children.  Burundi is truly an amazing place.