26.02.07 Last Week in Livingstone

It feels so strange to type that. I can't believe that I have been here 2 months already, but at the same time, I can't believe I've been here only 2 months. Whoever came up with the idea that time is a fixed measurable concept is talking nonsense. It is an elusive, elastic thing that seems to stretch and compress itself at the same time. But I have my flight booked from Vic Falls airport to Bulawayo (I have been persuaded that the train is simply not safe) on Saturday afternoon. I stay the night in Bulawayo and then get the bus to Gweru, from where I'll be picked up and taken to Antelope Park.

The photos are of me with a girl called Lisa who lives in Linda, the suburb township where the orphanage is based. Lots of children from the community come to the orphanage in the afternoon for reading and playing. Lisa is very quiet but likes to do me lots of drawings. The other photo is a million miles away - high tea at the Royal Livingstone Hotel with Debs, Joyce and Anne. I'll try to put some more photos on here before I go.

I don't want to focus on leaving here just yet, although it is looming large in my mind, and it sort of brings back the pain of leaving the UK at the beginning of January. I feel like I'm leaving friends and somewhere I feel very comfortable. When I was thinking about what order to do the projects I thought that this would be the hardest to leave, which is why I put the incentive of riding and playing with lion cubs after it.

Anyway, enough of that for the moment. The rest of last week was thankfully a bit calmer than Tuesday. I got over the hangover eventually, only in time for another big night on Thursday. I had only 3 hours sleep and then was back in class at 7am. Miss M felt unwell and said she was getting malaria so she went home at 7.15 and left my then current hangover and I to deal with the class. I have to confess I ran out of steam at 11am and sent them home an hour early. As expected, Miss M turned up for work fine this morning, except she had two "meetings" to go to. I found out this morning that her house is only 5 minutes walk away. Work that one out.

On Thursday I had 20 minutes to spare between lessons so I got them to think about the similarities and differences between me as a mzungu (white person) and themselves. We spent ages on the similarities, but after they'd done the white skin bit they struggled to think of differences. There were little pennies dropping everywhere, it was great. One wee boy, Gift - the class joker - said that one difference is that he is 11 years old and I am 40. So I said to him that I used to be 11 years old and one day he would be 40. "Not me Teacher," he said "I already have HIV." I have no response to that except a huge sadness that sinks in and sits there.

Thursday night was good fun. We had dinner at home (one of the best so far) and then went to a couple of bars and ended up in one of Livingstone's nicer clubs, dancing till 3am. I like the African dance style - all swaying and hip movements. On Friday a few of us went to a touristy restaurant that has a show of local dance and music. Of course it ended up being me that was pulled from the audience to get up there and shimmy in front of 150 people - locals and tourists. I'm quite pleased there are no photos that came out but my friends say that I held my own reasonably well.

I didn't manage to blog on Saturday as promised as I brought one of the orphan boys to the internet cafe and was teaching him how to use email. It took a while so I concentrated on that and sent a few emails while I was waiting. Most of the PCs were being temperamental as they have had new software installed, so I was sat using the computer at the front desk for a few hours and it was nice to watch the comings and goings. This boy - P - is a real sweetie, 17 years old, very quiet, has had a pretty awful time, which he won't talk about except to say it was rough, and is struggling to finish school. The committe that run the orphanage were give money to pay his school fees for this year, but that money has disappeared, so HH, I am going to use the money you gave me for the hamster cage to pay P's school fees. I'm going to be back in Livingstone in August so I'll pay the fees for the whole of next year when I'm back as I'm determined he should finish school. Joyce and I are supporting him together. He tells me it is impossible to get time to study in peace at the orphanage so he sets his alarm for midnight or 1am and gets up to work when the other boys are asleep. When they get up to go to school he then goes to sleep as he goes to school in the afternoon (it works in shifts everywhere). Its a tough existence but he does this with one of the other orphan boys so at least he is not on his own. He's not looking forward to me leaving as it is only a week after Joyce went, but we've got him a mobile phone so that we can all keep in touch (if I can get any reception in Zim, which I'm told is intemittent).

P wants to be a doctor or a nurse. Joyce and I are going to make this happen, so at some point we'll have to think of something to do for fundraising but in the meantime we want to get him through school.

I'm pleased to report that Chuma was back at school on Friday and being sufficiently mischeivous that I had to make her come and sit at my desk with me. The kids hate this - its another great, violence free punishment. I can't even think about saying goodbye to the kids, but I have decided that its not goodbye anyway, just a temporary farewell as unless something intervenes in the interim, I will come back to Livingstone in September. Miss M was on the rampage with the hosepipe again this morning, this time in an RE class. They were talking about the 10 commandments. Surely there must be one that says 'thou shalt not brutalise little children'? It is just my/our sensitivity though - the kids accept it and laugh at the others who are getting hit. One of the other volunteers told me about a Radio 4 programme she heard just before coming out here. There is a mens' group that is speaking out against domestic violence but the other side of the story was a woman who said something to the effect of how will I know if my husband loves me if he doesn't hit me? Answers on a postcard please!

I had a fairly mellow day yesterday, walked down to Zig Zags - a guest house that does good breakfasts - and had brunch. I sat there for hours writing my journal, drinking hazelnut coffee. I needed a break away from all the other volunteers and also even just from the house. Today was back teaching as usual and then the afternoon at the orphanage where I did drawing and reading, and I even let the kids do some as well.

23.02.07 A Quickie

This is just a quickie as I have 10 minutes here before leaving to go and get one of my birthday presents - a massage at the Royal Livingstone, the same place as before. I just about managed to get over the hangover from Wednesday when we had another big night out last night, so I have taken the afternoon off projects. It is so hot and humid at the moment that it is hard to do anything anyway.

I was having a chat with one of the other volunteers this afternoon, and we wondered if it is possible really to describe life here. It sounds quite melodramatic, and especially things like Tuesday morning for me, but given the work that we do, it actually is quite dramatic sometimes. I hope you don't think I'm a drama queen about it all! And I do hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it.

I'm coming back tomorrow for a long sesh to answer emails, do a proper blog entry and upload some photos, so you'll have to hang on til then. Those of you who've asked to be added to the automatic circulation, I'll do that tomorrow. If anyone else wants this, please let me know.

21.02.07 The F- Word

.... and so, life begins. Thank you so much to everyone who sent me birthday wishes. I feel quite emotional at the moment as its taken me absolutely ages to get through all the emails, and I'm touched that so many people remembered. Having said that, who was cruel enough to put something into Today in my absence? C'mon, the guilty party needs to own up in public.

It was of course a memorable day, and I knew there were sneaky plans afoot amongst my friends here, but it was not a good start. Let me tell you a story....

The day started as normal except that I got 2 grunts from my 2 roomies when I got up, instead of the usual one. The combi arrived to take me to school and I got there just before 7am. In true Zambia style, the kids that are not installed in their classrooms at 7am are hit with a piece of rubber hose pipe. As we drove into the school grounds - a sandy area with a circle of grass in the middle around which assemblies are held - I saw Tuesday morning's beater attack a group of girls on their way in. I went into my classroom which is the nearest one to where we are dropped off and suddenly one of the boys yelled "Teacher Teacher. Chuma!" Chuma is the name of the girl I have (I think) mentioned before that Miss M doesn't beat because she faints.

I ran outside back into the yard. Chuma was lying on the ground. I couldn't see what state she was in as there were loads of kids around and a few teachers doing sod all but standing there waving their hose pipes. This is, I suppose, where being a mzungu can carry you through. I yelled at the kids and teachers to get out of the way and got to her. It was starting to pour so I told them to get umbrellas. Chuma had not fainted. She had gone into what I can only describe as a sort of catatonic state of shock. Her eyes were open, she was totally non responsive, her pulse was racing and she was about to swallow her tongue. I'm not so good with all this stuff, but something kicks in - maybe all the practice for the first aid badge at brownies, maybe the experience Nicki and I had when we saved the girl on the Meadows - but I got her into the recovery position and secured her breathing. At some point, and I don't really remember when, I yelled to the Nazi beater that this is what happens when you beat children. One of the other teachers suggested we leave her to recover and go and pray. Apparently this had happened before and it could take an hour for her to recover. My response, calmer this time, was that she needed more practical assistance. I phoned for the combi to come back and take her to hospital, which, to cut a long story short, was where I spent the rest of the morning. She started coming round after about 30 minutes and could talk a bit after a further hour. After a further hour she was much better and in the absence of any obvious illness she was discharged with malaria pills (she'd been having chills recently), paracetamol - which is the cure for all ills here, and an instruction to drink sweet drinks for the rest of the day.

Interestingly both the headmaster and deputy head turned up at the hospital to see her. She hadn't a clue who they were, which was mildly amusing in the circumstances. They told me that when I take her home I should stop by the school to get a teacher to come to speak to her parents to translate. I was to tell the parents that she had collapsed after being threatened with being beaten. "She was beaten" I said. "I saw it." "But tell her parents she was only threatened." I shrugged. I made the headmaster come in to see the doctor so that the doctor could tell him what first aid to do if and when this happens again. I also told him that he needs to compile a list of particularly vulnerable children and make sure that all teachers know they should not be hit. I stopped short of the full debate. In some respects I wonder if that was wrong, but I was quite stressed and emotional and may not have been as calm about it as I would need to be. It was not the right place or time. Or maybe it was. Anyway, I persuaded them to leave the hospital as it was more important that they go back to do their work at school.

The combi came to get me at the hospital with one of our Zambian drivers, David. Again, I think I've mentioned him before. He's high up in the hierarchy of the tribe in the area, and one day will be chief. He knows everyone and everything. He knows the language that Chuma speaks - Lozi - and so when I took her home he translated for me and her parents. Apparently this problem started 2 years ago and occurs, as I guessed, when she is put under stress. They have tried all known traditional medicine remedies (oh, I dread to think) and not had success with other doctors. I honestly don't think they have actually tried anything as she was not previously registered at the hospital, which is where the only doctors here are. So I left her with 2 cans of Fanta, 2 muffins from Wonderbake, and all the neighbours kids coming round to see the mzungu teacher.

David took me back to school. I didn't think there was anything else I could do, and I feel a bit helpless now. The head and deputy pounced on me when I got back and asked me what I told the parents. In true Zambia style I shrugged again and said we just discussed Chuma's health. When I walked back to my class room several of the teachers came up to me and said "it wasn't me who hit her, I would never do that." I didn't say much but when I got into the classroom I sat Miss M down and told her in no uncertain terms was she ever to leave the girl in that state and not take her to a clinic (there is one about 200m away) or the hospital. I don't really know if this is right, but it looks quite dangerous to me, so I egged it up a bit to scare her.

I know I'm being hard on the teachers. They are not all uncaring monsters. They are relatively uneducated and a product of their own system and environment but to leave a child like that and go and pray (I'm shouting here). What a load of b******s. How I managed to stay calm I don't know - you do what you have to do I guess.

By that time it was 11am. I pretty much shooed Miss M out of her English class into a corner to do marking, and started an Art class. They love Art so much, they get so excited when they see me come in with my bag of crayons and paper. At this point, I confessed it was my birthday, so they sang happy birthday, and then I had to confess the number. Ah, it was brutal! To these kids, 40 is ancient, but I was told yesterday, by a prostitute in a bar (I'm getting there) that it is a matter of real celebration to get to 40 as so many people here die in their 20s. I know that, and truly, that's how I feel.

Anyway, yesterday's art class produced about 50 birthday cards from my little darlings - it was what they wanted to do. I treasure them. After school they were being punished for speaking "vanacula" (vernacular - usually their own language) by being made to cut the grass on the football field (very handy as there are no lawn mowers) so we walked out into the field and they started to sing for me. They sang local songs and some English hymns. Some of the kids objected as the others were singing in a language they didn't understand. What you need to understand is that these kids are not stupid. They are not backward at all. What it is, is that they are being educated in sometimes their 3rd or 4th language. Imagine, those of you who learn a few phrases of Spanish or Italian before the annual jaunt, if that was the language you had to do business in. It is like that. I have learned bits of the 4 local languages here - Nyanga, Bemba, Lozi and Tonga, but I get them mixed up quite a lot which causes much amusement.

It was a mixed morning. Awful and lovely. I needed to walk, so despite the scorching heat again, and a heavy bag of art stuff, I decided to walk home. It is about 3 miles but I felt that I needed the time. As I was walking for about 15 minutes I heard 2 guys say the m- word as they came up behind me so I just turned around and said "yes I am a mzungu!" We got talking and they showed me a short cut home which cut it down to 2 miles, which was a bonus. They offered to carry my bag as well, but hey - principles are princples!

I got back to the house at about 1ish, tired, grubby and sweaty. And very hungry. I was told that I wasn't doing afternoon projects, that I should go and have a shower and scrub up a bit, and be ready to leave at 2.30. I did as I was told (it sometimes happens) and Angus, one of our favourite local taxi drivers, turned up at 2.45 (its Africa). Joyce, Anne and Debs took me for high tea at the Royal Livingstone hotel. This involves nibbling crust free smoked salmon and cucumber sandwiches, drinking filter coffee in my case, ceylon tea for the others, and then diving into the enormous, and I mean really enormous, trolley of sweets and pastries. There must have been about 30 things to choose from. Unfortunately after 2 months of rice and veg, my eyes are way bigger than my stomach, and I only managed 3 plate loads. A monkey came and grabbed Joyce's quiche, and some sugar. Oh, and did I mention the cocktails? I had a Pimms to start with, and then I got champagne cocktails for us all.

Just to make an interesting backdrop there was a huge storm over the river in front of us with really dramatic forks of lighting.

After that we got a taxi back to Rhapsody's, the place where we come for happy hour cocktails on Wednesdays and Fridays. The manageress, Sonya, brought me a monster cocktail called Rhapsody Blue. I don't know if it was deliberate, but we'd been having a discussion a few weeks ago, and I'd said I thought it was unnatural to eat and drink blue things (no, bluberries are purple). Anyway, I made everyone else taste this as well, as it was huge. It starts to get a wee bit blurry after we played a game of "Shots and Ladders" which involved blue sambuca. More blue - its not right! Anyway, I'm sure they fixed it as I seemed to land on every square which involved drinking, and whenever they could nominate a friend for a shot, it was me. That was all I drank (a lot!) until much later, about 11pm I think, when another blue monstrosity of a cocktail turned up. I will be sweating blue soon. I used my usual tactic of sharing it around, which seemed to work fine.

We then went into town to a bar where there are mostly locals, loads of prostitutes, and a few non local whites. We stayed there for a couple of hours, danced a bit, drank a bit more - water in my case - and I ended up talking for ages in French with a prostitute called Gladys. It was her friend Christine who said I should celebrate being 40. It was a sad sight to see these beautiful young girls (the Zambians are an unfairly good looking people) put themselves through this. Well, I didn't see it, I only glimpsed a snapshot on the surface. It was enough for me.

We got home at 3am. I did not make it into school today! I emerged at about 8am, sat on the verandah in my PJs for a while, someone put a coffee into my hand (would you believe I probably only have 2 or 3 a week now!) and I let the world come slowly back into focus. And here I am.

So, yes, I can say it. "Forty, Forty, Forty!" Its a bloody big number, but it is just a number, and in the context of life here, not something to complain about at all. And hey, I'm 40, this year I've made a dream come true, and even in the 2 months that I've been away, I've seen, done, thought and experienced things that I'll never forget or regret. And I'm never going to forget this birthday!

I've missed you all especially this week, and it really has been truly lovely to get all your messages. Thank you again. I will respond individually, but maybe not until the weekend. And I'll put a couple of pictures from yesterday on here as well.

Keep in touch.

10.02.07 A Productive Week

Hello all. I'm very excited, as I have loads of emails - lots of news from home. Thank you. I'll probably do replies next week but I thought I'd blog today. Then again, its not sunny at the moment, so I may just stay here. It costs about GBP1 per hour so, its an affordable luxury.

This week has been fantastic. I suppose this is Newsflash #2 of the week - I can teach, and I love it!

I get to school just before 7 in the morning. Class starts at 7. Miss M - no George, it is not me! - turned up on Weds morning and announced out of the blue she would be leaving at 8 hours (the local alternative to "o'clock") and wouldn't be back. She kindly left me her lesson prep for English, Maths and Science and disappeared at 7.45. I did have a few minutes of "oh gawd, what am I doing?" but then, in true Mendelsohn style, just got on with it. I LOVED IT!!! The kids were great, they all seem to understand my accent as long as I speak reasonably slowly - which I do anyway (people here finish my sentences too, its soooo annoying) - and it was such a productive morning. When they do exercises normally, Miss M writes them on the board and then goes out of the room. I walk round the classroom, checking what the kids are doing and making sure they answer the questions. A good half of the class only managed to copy the questions, and didn't understand what they are supposed to do. Well, they know now.

On Thursday, Miss M came over to me as class started at 7 and said she was leaving for the whole day as she had to go on a training course. Bye. Again, at least she left me with her workbooks, and away I went. I had the whole class to myself for 5 hours, and again, it was fabulous. I was doing long multiplication with them, and at first I forgot how to do it, but it soon came back. When I marked their work, I did check my answers were the same as Stephen's (the brightest kid), which fortunately they were. All of the Grade 6 teachers were on the same course, and one of the other volunteers was struggling a little with her class, so after break I went in and stamped my authority - well, shouted quite loudly at them for a good few minutes. That was on Thursday and they were quiet as mice for the rest of the morning and all Friday. Hee hee - I'm so mean!

By the time Friday morning came, I was ready to chuck Miss M out and get on with it myself, but we did quite a good double act. The only lesson I don't contribute to is the local language lesson, for obvious reasons, although they make me say some words and then laugh at my pronunciation. I made them learn to say my surname in revenge.

We did art again on Friday. This time I let them loose with the glitter. Most of them had not seen glitter before and some of the kids ended up covered in the stuff. I wonder what their parents thought when they went home. I have to say, to Miss M's credit, we absolutely trashed the classroom. It was covered in glue, paper, glitter, and mucky kids. The transport truck turned up early so I didn't have time to clear up before leaving. When I walked out the door I apologised to her and she just shrugged, and said it was OK, that was what art is about. We are warming to each other!! I think it helped that I bought her a set of pens on Wednesday to defrost her a bit. I was really disappointed that we can't stick the glitter covered animals on the walls as the church visitors (I don't understand what they have to do with it, but take it that they can interfere) will make us take them down. Another stunning coup for Christianity in Africa. Sorry.

I have also asked her if I can do a remedial reading group as there is about 1/4 of the class that can hardly read, which is a huge handicap to them in every lesson. While I was covering the kids and classroom in glitter and glue, she streamed the kids and now every Tuesday and Friday we are going to split the class, and I will take about 1/3 of them in a reading group. I'm teaching reading at the orphanage using phonics based materials, so I'm quite comfortable in doing it in the morning as well. It is a huge opportunity to really make a difference to these kids. I've also picked out a couple who can't really write and will keep them in for a few break times to practice writing.

Out of the 55 kids in my class, I have about 45 names programmed into my brain, and the rest are nearly there. There are some fantastic wee characters and as they are getting more used to me and my teaching style we are having fun. We practiced times tables the other day. Lots of the boys don't answer the questions so I took in a tennis ball, and threw it at the person who answered the first question correctly. After someone had answered the next question, I asked the person with the ball if they thought it was right, and if they did to throw the ball to the child who had just answered. That made all the boys pay attention and want to take part. I also did a quiz - they wanted boys v girls. The boys won by a big margin, so even though the girls take part more and there are more of them there is a significant number who are not engaged or are so far behind that they might as well not be there.

Talking of breaks, I practically have to push some of the kids out of the door at break time. They are so keen they want to carry on working, but I make them go out and run around to get some fresh air. I also need a few minutes break and some air, but some of them are so dead set on carrying on working that they won't budge.

By the time Friday evening arrived I was totally exhausted. I love being with the kids, but it does take a lot of mental and physical energy. I'd spent Thursday and Friday afternoons at the orphanage doing the reading club. It rained on Friday and it is quite bizarre to be inside and be rained on - the roof leaks terribly. There were some visitors from the organisation that runs the local feeding programme out of the community school, which is attached to the orphanage. They give the food to families that have girls at the school to encourage the education of girls. Is it good?

Anyway, I'm going to chill this weekend - I need to, I wake up in the mornings doing lessons in my head! I've had a coffee at Wonderbake this morning - a local cafe/bakery, and we'll head off to the hotel to lie in the non-existent sun in half an hour or so. Tonight we are going to the only seafood restaurant in town. Amazingly, to me at least, it is possible to get fed up of veggies and rice. I buy tins of tuna as well, but haven't succumbed to eating mammals. There are 2 lapsed veggies in the group - it is hard not being in control of what you are eating.

That's all for now. Keep emailing.

06.02.07 Newsflash from Livingstone

The picture you need to imagine is this - I'm sitting in a spacious, modern looking internet cafe, looking out into the car park at Spar and across the road into the edge of the Mosi oi Tunya National Park. I'm not at my most fragrant as I've been farming this afternoon and wearing the same clothes as yesterday. We were muck spreading yesterday afternoon and today we dug the stuff into the ground. The photo is of Natalie and I standing in front of our neat rows of freshly turned over soil. We are quite proud of our work. The area will be used for growing green peppers which get a good price at the market. The money is used to finance the home-based care project, which the medical volunteers work on. The local women and the volunteers visit outlying villages and settlements for people who can't or won't attend the clinics. While we were there this afternoon one lady came over to try to get treatment for the sores on her legs, which are (I am told) a side effect of the ARVs she has to take. The money pays for drugs, bandages, transport to hospital if necessary (except see an earlier entry).

Anyway, the newsflash is that I'm back teaching at Dambwa Basic School and very happy about it. We've pulled out of the tourism college course for the moment as they were unable to sort out what to do with a volunteer (i.e. the supposed teacher kept on just leaving me to do all the teaching every day and could be found sitting in the bar next door chatting with his friends) and they also kept on asking for money, which is not what we are about. Maybe it will get going again in the future but for the moment it has been parked. I now teach in the same class with Miss M as I shall call her - the same teacher that I described before who whacks the kids with a 2 foot piece of rubber hose pipe. I've been back since last Thursday and I have noticed that the hose pipe comes out less often than it did. She hits the kids who are late and I was late on Monday so I felt like holding my hand out as I went into the classroom like the kids have to do, but I managed to check myself. The irony of the gesture would be lost, and I'd either get whacked or cause a cultural incident.

I've been doing some English, Maths and Science with the kids, luckily with the teacher leading, and I do extra reading and support work, and lots and lots of marking. Today was fantastic fun - I did an art class on my own. Last night I roped in loads of the other volunteers and we cut out animal shapes - elephants, lions, hippos, crocs and leopards - and I took in the shapes and loads of crayons and pencils. My aim was to get the kids to use their imagination, but I first had to explain what imagination was. We talked about colours, firstly the real colours of the animals, and then I showed them some shapes I had coloured in last night. The got the idea quite quickly and I now have a collection of psychadelic lions etc, which are going to be stuck on the walls of the classroom. Next week I'm going to do butterflies and make mobiles to hang from the rafters. Aah - I have said for years I wanted to be a primary school teacher so I could play with sand and crayons! Hopefully you can see some of the results from the photos, but take it from me that they are wildly colourful and some are very clever and original designs. It was so good to see them tackle a blank piece of paper and think of what to do.

Yesterday we had to count how many of the class are orphans. The information is required for the World Food Programme, as vulnerable children get food to take home with them. The food they were given at school has now run out. Miss M said she was pleased at this as it disrupted her class. Anyway, she yelled out for those who are orphans to put their hands up. Only a few did, so she yelled at them again. A few more hands went up. "Leonard", she yelled, "are you not an orphan?" Leonard looks down and says nothing. "Do you not know what an orphan is? Prinella, (the brightest girl in the class) explain to Leonard what an orphan is!" Prinella complies (she is also an orphan) and Leonard and a few others put their hands up. Maybe it is just matter of fact here, rather than Miss M's wonderful personality shining through, but I did feel so sorry for the poor wee things. Anyway, it was over a third of the class. How awful is that.

I was at the orphanage a lot last week and the reading club is going really well. It is more for the community children than the orphans as the orphans are teenage boys, and are too cool to hang out with us. I think it is the only individual attention many of the children ever get, and it has been so rewarding seeing the progress we can make even in a few days. I have used the money I was given by a very kind person (who will get a separate email) to buy a whole load of new books and some pads and pens for the kids to take home and practice their writing. They devour the new books like manna and their enthusiasm to learn is almost overwhelming. So thank you SG. Your donation has brought smiles to lots of little faces, and maybe just maybe we are planting the seeds for these kids to carry on learning.

I know I shouldn't, but I have 2 favourites - boys called Mark and Joshua. Josh is the one sitting on my lap while I'm reading with Grace and Shelley, who are both quite good compared to others but are still reading Grade 2 level books (they are in Grade 6 and 7). Josh and Mark are both quite quiet boys, or rather they used to be, but their confidence is picking up day by day. They have a really sweet gesture they do - it starts like a handshake, and then goes into an elaborate series of moves - finger clinches, thumb twirls and shakes and then ends with the boys kissing the back of their hand while they are still holding mine. I suspect its partly cultural, partly AIDs driven, but it is the sweetest thing, and when wee Mark (he's 10) did it for the first time last week I had to fight back the tears. Although I love the farming, I can't wait to get back to the orphanage, and its frustrating being away.

I can't believe it is my 5th week here. A few people who started at the same time as me left last week, and I know that I'm only just getting into it. I don't know whether to extend here for another month or to extend work at the lion project for a month. I will need to make up my mind soon-ish. I always knew that it would be so hard leaving the kids, but I think when the time comes it will be heartbreaking. Anyway, as I said before I left, I need to live each day one day at time and not ponder about the future. Easier said than done!!

Anyway, keep the emails and news coming. It is good to hear what is going on and to keep in touch.