November 4, 2008

Hello! The task of describing these lil hoodlums was much harder than I assumed. I should have known better. To be clear, those whom I've written less about are no less wonderful and amazing than any of the others. It's just that I wasn't able to come up with an anecdote about them that could possibly encompass all of the complexities of their personalities.

Wisdom is 14, and the older brother of Love. He's a really good artist. He isn't into sports as much as the rest of the boys. He knows what he wants and what he likes, and he doesn't go out of his way to please us or appeal to things he thinks we might like or want. I like that about him. He is so sweet with his younger brother. To watch any of the siblings interact is really beautiful, one can only imagine what they've experienced together, but to watch Wisdom with Love is amazing to me. Mama mentioned once to me that Wisdom has essentially been Love's primary caregiver from the time he was born. I think this role came naturally to him.

Komla, 12, is at that awkward age of not yet being one of the big kids or little anymore. Because of this, it's hard for me to understand/empathize with him as much as some of the others. The other day we were all sitting outside and Komla was showing off his bubble blowing skills. He can blow ones the size of his head. Naturally, the younger kids found it hilarious to pop them. He kept blowing and they kept popping until he had gum all the way behind his ears. He was genuinely surprised every time. He loves everything to do with music; playing, listening, dancing. He's a really awesome dancer. When he thinks no one is watching, he busts out the sweetest moves.

Israel, 9, is the brother of Christabel. These two actually aren't orphans. Their mother, Bernice, 'cooks' and 'helps out' around the house. They live next door, but are around every day, so I include them with the rest. Israel is really really smart, he tries hard. He is the most consistently well-mannered of the bunch, which speaks well for him, because they are all incredibly polite. He was careening through the house the other day, and as he reached the table where I was sitting, he skidded to a halt, to nod and smile shyly at me, and then continued on.

Christabel, 7, is very lovey. Most of the girls are pretty independent, and seem to find physical affection awkward and unnecessary (I am convinced this can't possibly be true and try to show them so as often as possible). Christabel, however, wants to be held and hugged all the time. This is very interesting to me, considering she is the only one who still has her mother.

Eric has a lisp. It's hard to say no to that. He is also 9, and he and Israel have become fast friends. He loves to play soccer. He's a little more sensitive than the rest of the boys, he gets his feelings hurt easily. He recovers just as quickly, though, which is more than I can say about the rest of them. Eric is a storyteller. I often see him at the head of the table, telling some story that has all of the other children completely enraptured.

Mawuli, where to begin? He's 6. He gets frustrated very easily. His mother was (is?) mentally disabled and they aren't sure who the father is. His frustration, therefore, is entirely understandable, and makes me love him all the more. He is also the most unknowingly entertaining of them all. He's so NAUGHTY. He gets into everything. He ate half a raw onion off the table the other day and tried to deny it: "I no have onion," mhm. He snuck up the second floor where we sleep the other night, which is strictly forbidden (by Mama), and scared me half to death. I thought he was some kind of large African rodent. He laughed as loud as I screamed and proceeded to find the one toy we have up there, a scooter, and ride it up and down the hallway. As naughty as he is, he does try really hard to be good and to be helpful. I still remember, it was Mawuli, when I first arrived who took my bags from me and brought them upstairs.

George is 6 and he's my boyfriend. We have so much fun together. He rolls his r's in a sort of Spanglish accent, so he sort of reminds me of Rosie Perez. I taught him to sashay, just like I taught Harry, my little brother. He loves it, he's such a ham. He rolls up his shorts and tucks in his shirt and struts around the yard saying "sashay, shauntay."

Mary is 9, my sisters' age. She likes being girly. Helen, one of the other volunteers made all of the girls bracelets, and Mary puts hers on when she comes home (they aren't allowed to where jewelry at school), and lovingly admires it. Mary likes to know what is going on, who's doing what, who's getting in trouble, etc, at all times. Whenever we give out candy or presents, we can count on Mary to make sure that everyone got one. She's very generous in that way. She is also a really good storyteller. She's eager to please everyone, and, inevitably gets in trouble for it. Mama once said to me, as though I would agree, "that girl never likes to stay in the kitchen, she only wants to play."

Cecilia, aka GigiBonBon, pronounced explicitly in a French accent, is the younger sister of Comfort. She likes to be in the center of things. "And me too," she says, when she wants to partake. She's wild and crazy and I think she's found her match in me, because I will sit opposite her to make faces at each other for as long as she will. She's still trying to figure me out, I don't think she's sure whether I'm funny or insane. You will never win a battle with her. At 5 years old, the child cannot be beat. She makes her own decisions, period. Mama says "that girl is afraid of nothing.'' It's true.

Atsu and Etse, 7, are twins. Etse is quietly determined. If you ask him a question, and he doesn't know the answer, he will mull it over until he finally comes up with one. Sometimes not until 10 minutes later. Atsu is funny. He laughs if I talk in a silly voice to the other volunteers even when he doesn't understand what I'm saying. Both of them work really hard to obey the 'English only during school time' rule. They are really good translators; I like to have them give me lessons in Ewe. The rest of the kids, when they want to show you something, say "see" instead of "look." For months now, Atsu has been patiently correcting them. The other day the twins and I were outside doing laundry, they were helping me, like they always do, and Love said "see" about something. Atsu pointed a finger at him and said, firmly, "Last time. [pause] look, not see." Still not quite sure where he got 'last time' from, but it was genius.

Love is pretty darn cute and he's the youngest, so he gets away with murder. He's remarkably self-entertaining, more so than any four year old I've ever known. Love doesn't need anyone to play with him, but he will allow me to if I must. He does, however, love to be held. He thinks any lap belongs to him. He doesn't speak any English at all, except to say "speet English!" and he's started to say "I beat your buttoss," (buttocks) which, unfortunately, I think I taught him.

Comfort is only 11, but you would never guess. She is essentially the glue that holds the whole group together. She cooks every meal for all of them. We rarely get to spend time with her outside of the kitchen, except to help with homework. But I've been trying to help her make dinner more often, I think she likes that.

Kingsley is actually 15 (not 12, which I suspected). He's been with us for about a month now, and he's already the leader of the pack. It's hard to fully explain what an awesome kid he is. It's as though he is my wise and experienced grandfather and my sweet little brother at the same time. I took Kingsley to the hospital the other day because he hurt his foot and could hardly walk. He insisted on walking there, rather than take a cab, and he saved the candy I gave him in the waiting room to share with the younger kids. I think he came from a smaller village than most of the rest, and therefore is used to having less and making more with that less. I was helping Christabel do her homework about gardening the other day, and Kingsley was able to fully explain the process of planting and caring for each plant that was listed. I think this about all of them, but especially Comfort and Kingsley, that they are so beautifully practiced at the work they do; cooking, washing, cleaning, gardening. I could just watch their hands working for hours, and wish, the whole time, that mine will someday be as skilled.

Every single one of them is a genuinely good kid. They all greet us when they get home from school: they come and find us, wherever we may be, including the bathroom, to say 'good afternoon.' They always make sure that everyone gets a candy. They share food with eachother (sometimes they trade sauce for rice, or a piece of fish for a green bean. I love to watch them barter). If any of them has to use the toilet at night, one will accompany another just to hold the flashlight. I am continually impressed with these children. I see their frustrations, I admire their small victories. Time spent alone with any number of them is infinitely valuable to me. It is so cool to see them interact. This one major setback they share, orphanhood, is precisely what allows them to interact so nicely. It's what enables them to feel comfortable, and laugh with each other, and have a family again.

Tomorrow I go on a 10 day trip up North. Get out the old atlas. We go from Kpando to Koforidua to Kumasi to Tamale to Larabanga to Mole National Park back to Tamale to Bolgatanga to Paga and then back home again. Say a prayer that I find the elephant I've been dying to see, because otherwise it's a 10 hour tro for nothing. Paga should be pretty interesting too, the villagers cohabitate with crocodiles. There has never been a reported attack by either party in the entire history of the village, and killing a crocodile is considered a homocide. Apparently the big thing for tourists to do there is sit on a crocodile and have your picture taken (Kat, I'm getting one special for you). I'll let you know how it goes.

love and Obama,
Morgan O Hanson.

p.s. We did Halloween with them the other night, which was so great. They had never celebrated it before. They LOVED it. We had them walk down our hall and knock on each of the doors to get candy, and they would scream "chickacheeeeeee."

p.p.s I'm staying til February. Send me a postcard or something.