We started service sites this week. I am already dreading having to say goodbye to the kids. I am working at place called River of Life or "RivLife." Our first day was insane. We planned out the schedule of what our regular week will be looking like. Tuesdays and Fridays we will be going to a women's HIV/AIDS support group in the morning and coming back to RivLife in the afternoon to play with the kids. Wednesdays we will be going to hang out with the "Gogos" which is a group of old ladies who basically meet because they all want to remain active. They go for runs, they do gardening, they do everything. I can't wait for them. We're going to have a dance class for them. It's going to be so great. Thursdays we will be going out to do home visits to people who are terminally ill to clean their houses or cook food or do anything they need help with.
After we planned out our weeks, the ladies who work there, Gloria and Beatrice, basically told us we were going to play with kids all day. So my team and I, comprised of 7 other girls, took all 30-ish kids outside. We went out to the tent and all the kids sat on chairs and stared at us as if they were waiting for us to do something amazing. So all 8 of us just kind of stood there...Whaaaat do we do? These kids don't speak English. We don't know any Zulu. This is going to be interesting. So naturally we reverted to good-old "Ageko Ofana" which is a simple Zulu song we learned on day one in South Africa. We figured it would be a good icebreaker since most kids we have met know this song. So we all got into it, clapping and doing the hand motions. The kids just stared with blank expressions and mouths wide open.
Aaaalright then. Moving on to Plan B.
Duck duck goose, anyone? We decided it would be semi-easy to teach kids how to play duck duck goose without using words. We figured we could just teach by example. So we got all the kids to "hlala" (aka "sit") in a circle. We brainstormed and squealed with excitement when we realized we knew the Zulu word for duck (idada), but then felt defeated when we didn't know the word for goose. We made it work though. We changed goose to lion (ibhubesi).
"Idada...idada....idada...IBHUBESI!!"
One of us proceeded to stand up and drag a kid along with us around the circle. We did that a couple times, then realized we were not getting through at all. I got picked to be the ibhubesi, and when I went to pick up a little girl she started crying hysterically. Let's just say we failed at Idada, Idada, Ibhubesi.
Then it hit us...SOCCER. It seems like every kid in the nation knows and loves this game. It was the perfect way to get most of the kids involved without having to talk.

Somehow in my time in college, I have forgotten how unsanitary children can be. There was this little boy on the first day eating a plum, but somehow managed to get the plum all over his shirt and hands instead of in his mouth. And for some reason he felt the need to jump all over me. Every kid has snot running all over his face and wipes it on you like it's no big thing. It's disgusting. But they are so cute you can't help but love them.
The second day we went to the women's HIV/AIDS support group. There are about 10 women who meet twice a week and do crafts and stuff like that. When we first got there they were all pretty quiet and didn't seem like they wanted to talk to us. Our Community Engagement professor, Frances, came with us. Thank God he did because he kind of got the ball rolling on asking questions and getting conversation going. The first order of business was getting names down of all the women. That was pretty hilarious. Their names are all so exotic and hard to remember. So we're going around and their throwing out names like Bosolile, Ututu, and then they get to this one lady named Patricia. We were praising Jesus for an American name. Interestingly enough, every time we meet an African with an American name, the name tends to be a rarity in America. Patricia for example. I know one Patricia. Shout out to Aunt Pat. Heyoo. The other lady who works at RivLife is named Beatrice. I have met one Beatrice in my life as well, and that was my friend's hamster. It's still a wonderful day when we have to remember a name that we find familiar. The women are absolutely amazing. They are all HIV positive and look like they are mostly in their late 40s or 50s. The women had the translator ask us if we were sure we wanted to be there and if we knew they were HIV positive. They tried to tell us they would understand if we wanted to bail out early because most people in this country run away at the mention of the word AIDS. It was absolutely heartbreaking to hear that. We assured them we wanted to be there and we weren't scared of physical contact. To show them that we all got up and went around to give each woman a hug. You can tell they don't get hugs very often because they held on as long as possible. After they knew we weren't scared of them or weren't going to run away, they got more comfortable. They pulled out all their crafts and tried to teach us how to crochet. They crochet plastic bags. It's incredible. Like they make mats out of plastic bags they find lying around on the street. I suck at regular crochet, let alone crochet with a plastic bag. It's a bad situation. I'll leave the crochet to the ladies. It's hard to communicate with them because there is only one translator, but we will make it work. I'm really excited to go back.

I already have a favorite child. His name is Aya and I want to take him home with me. He is so cuddly and has the most beautiful big brown eyes. I am in love. I just love love LOVE my service site so much. The next few weeks are going to fly by, but I'm going to love every second of it.

Last weekend, we took a fatty luxury bus around South Africa to tour four different battlefields from different wars that have happened in the past few centuries or so. Rumors say that the Brazilian soccer team is going to be using the same bus when they come here for the World Cup. But that’s just a rumor. I left my number under one of the seats…just in case.

Our battlefields tour guide, Tony, was one of the most interesting people I have ever met. I’m not exactly sure how to begin describing him. He was a precious 75 year old man. I have never met someone with a greater passion for history. He was just PUMPED. Unfortunately, our group of 53 students didn’t feel the same way. I found myself, once again, standing in the hot African sun listening to someone talk about something in which I had no interest. I really wanted to have an interest in what he was saying, but I just couldn’t find it anywhere in my being to be genuinely intrigued. Sorry, Tony. There were so many ways in which Tony unknowingly added humor to our day. The first was the loudspeaker in the bus. Let me just set the scene for you. We’re riding on the LUXURY bus with the cushiest seats I have ever had the pleasure of sitting in. The low hum of the bus on the long open highway slowly but surely lulls everyone into a slumber. Everything is peaceful and then suddenly Tony’s voice comes on the loudspeaker and scares the crap out of all of us because it’s so loud. I think the fact that the loudspeaker’s volume is turned all the way up, and the fact that Tony is hard of hearing makes it that much more intense. Here we are Tony. You have our attention. This better be the best announcement I have ever heard in my life.

“And over to your right, you have a cow. But more on that tomorrow.”

And that’s it. We were woken up for THAT. It was upsetting but hilarious at the same time because everyone was just like “Really, Tony? Really?” We learned a little something else about African culture this weekend. Apparently it is rude to yawn when listening to a lecture like that? Tony got on a couple people’s case about it. He called them tonsil masters or something to that extent. It was so funny. We were so confused why it was such a big deal. Then I got called out because Jake threw a frog at my head and I made a small ordeal about it. But after I attempted to explain to Tony that I wasn’t trying to waste his time and that I just been scared for a small second because I had frog juice on my head, I realized he probably didn’t hear me at all. He just thought I was a rude American for the rest of the day. Woops.

Last Sunday was SUNDAY FUNDAY. We had a lot of fun. Obviously. We made a giant slip ‘n’ slide and played on it all day. I had soap in my eyes and scratches on my arm, but it didn’t matter. I was officially 5 years old again. I actually didn’t do slip ‘n’ slides a lot when I was younger. I’m kind of self conscious as to how I look when I go down one. My family used to judge me on the way I jumped in the pool. They told me I looked like a horse. What if I look like a horse trying to go down the slip ‘n’ slide? I know some people took video footage, so I suppose I’ll find out soon. My body was so sore from that stupid thing. I’m getting too old for this kind of stuff.

The week before last we had finals for our elective classes. So I’m done with Biology, and I have to do a seminar and final project for art class by next week then that class will be done too. We started service sites today. In the words of Tony, “But more on that later…” The children wore me out today, but another update will be coming soon!