Little angels

 

Writing about the Little angels project without being able to upload pictures doesn't seem right. If I had good connection, I would upload a video, tell you that those without school uniform are in need of a sponsor, and I would let you to it. Well, no, I would add a picture of the room that was mine for three days, and then I would let you enjoy the little dancers. The connection got a fright when I tried to upload the video, so I'll have to turn to plan B.

The project was started around half a year ago by Duncan, a guy in his early twenties who was so grateful for the opportunities that he got thanks to his foreign sponsor that decided to pay it forward setting up a school for needy children and orphans by the Lake Bunyonyi. And there it is the school, simple and small, but giving the kids the chance to go to school. The level is not outstanding, but it's a beginning: at least they have a place to go where people do care for them. Fundraising takes a big part of the time of all the people involved, even the kids, but that's how it is, if one has to dance with the musungus (white people) to touch their heart and their pockets, let us dance.

I was given the chance to spend three days with them while staying with a family, getting a taste the conditions that people usually enjoy around here: the shower, a washbowl; the toilet, a hole in the ground (both with their own space separated from the rest of the world by walls, more or less precarious, but walls); the light, the sun, candles or a torch; the alarm clock, the birds – the sun helps but the windows are so small that it barely gets in; the kitchen, a small annex; the backyard, the plantation of bananas and matoke; and in spite of the proximity of the water, every drop that is used has to be fetched from the lake – an engineer, please, go to the area and design a system to get the water up the hill more efficient than plastic containers.

I was there as a volunteer but, doing doing, I didn’t do much. Most of the time I played with the little ones of the family: origami birds, throwing stones and bottle caps when I finally got hold on them, messing around with the touch screen of my computer (while the battery lasts). At school, I taught half an hour of Maths and the rest of the time I let them love me, trying to multiply the number of little hands that each of my fingers could hold. We also did some flips, but when the sun struck and I saw that the line was getting longer and longer and fights were starting, I stopped; my kidneys couldn’t get any more kids to fly in the air.

The impressions about Jinja, the sunset cruise on Lake Victoria and the rafting of the Nile stay for a future post. For now, just saying that I’ve come back alive and I’ve enjoyed it like a little child.