james the explorer

October 5, 2011

I’m going to start off this post with talking about how Arabic I look. When I was in the airport a couple of days ago, I had people coming up to me speaking in Arabic and then when I looked confused and said back to them “HUH?” they got frustrated and walked away. I think my beard and olive completion has really given people the wrong impression. But I don’t foresee any issue, until I start my journey home. I’m afraid of the British embassy guys going through my passport and looking at me. “So you just arrived from Kuwait, and you’re going home to Canada, and you’ve been growing a (awesome) beard for twenty days. Access Denied, go back to Kuwait.” I don’t think that will happen but it’s a small, semi-justifiable, fear.

Matt wanted to take me into school for show and tell. For those that don’t know, Matt is my older cousin. He is approaching thirty (but don’t tell him that) and teaches Psychology at the high school. He wanted me to talk to as many students about what I was doing in India. He’s proud of me, and hearing him say that to a bunch of students really felt good. You always know your close friends and family are proud of you, but it really means something when it’s declared in front of you like that. I spent only about ten minutes or so talking to his classes about India and what I was doing. One of Matt’s friends at the school teaches Political Science, and asked if I would want to come and talk to one of his classes about poverty. The class was going to talk about India later in the year, and were currently on the unit of Africa and the poverty that is there. Rich (the Political Science Teacher), figured he’d use whatever resources he could even though the timing wasn’t great.
Half of the day I spent with Kristy. She was doing advertising with her classes and breaking down, target audiences, and all that fun stuff. My favourite thing the kids said was when Kristy had a photo of a red Ferrari on the screen. We were talking about how it could be directed at men if you put a woman on the hood of the car. After a moment or two, one of the boys explained why that was an awful idea. “If you put her on the hood, she’ll probably scratch the paint!” I don’t know what outfit he was imagining her to be in. I think I’m just used to North American advertising where a women in a bikini would have been on the hood and unless that bikini had lots of pins, or dazzle on it, scratching wouldn’t have been a concern of mine. I have no clue what outfit he was imagining though. Censorship laws here in Kuwait are pretty strict so maybe he was imagining some girl in a full Burka on the hood? I think I’ve spent enough time on this.

After school was done, we just stayed in and ordered some Indian food. I ate with my hands and it felt great! The rest of the night was just spent talking and sharing. I think I’ve mentioned it before, but I truly cherish the friendship and almost brotherhood that I have with Matt, and Kristy sisterhood. Whenever we are around each other we can really let our hair down and just be honest with each other and I love that about our relationship.

Tomorrow is my last full day in Kuwait. Matt and Kristy have decided to take ‘personal days’ so that we can go out to the sea. It should be a really good time. Friday I leave to go home. It’s weird though, being alone in India for so long, and now being with family in Kuwait, it already feels like I’m at home. Home is where the heart is I guess, and my heart is with family.

Just because I couldn’t end it on that sappy note, when Matt was introducing me to his classes, he would introduce me as his “best cousin”. Now this isn’t meant as an insult to any other family that is reading this. In this part of the world, cousin, brother, sister, uncle, aunt, are all used very loosely to what our perception of those words are. In India, all the children called me Uncle. When I was in Nepal, all the children called me Brother. Here in Kuwait, cousin can be used as a close family friend. So by saying ‘best cousin’ you are really explaining that they are related by blood. So the children would look at me, and then back to matt (for those who don’t know, Matt is lanky, and six feet, three inches, tall. We don’t have a lot of family resemblances other then we are both good looking and have great senses of humour) and the students would say “Why do you have an Arabic cousin? Are you Arabic Mr. Winger?” Just another case of people thinking I’m of a different culture. 

October 3, 2011

I have finally made it to Kuwait. It took way longer then I had expected and hoped. There were three different flights leaving from Dubai to Kuwait during the period of time I was at the airport (at least ones on the same airline that I had a ticket for). Now, my goal was to talk my way onto one of those earlier flights and cut down the amount of time spent in the Dubai Airport. My skills of persuasion seem to not work on this part of the world, either that or they had already overbooked those first two flights, which is the answer they gave me. Due to the fact that I was at the airport so earlier for my flight, I had a fairly good grasp on where everything was. I found all the gates, even the ones in other terminals, so the few hours before my flight I just sat at my gate. Bad idea. I had not actually gone and checked in yet because I flew to Dubai on a different airline then the one I was leaving Dubai with, I hadn’t got my boarding pass printed. I figured I would be ok with the print out of my e-ticket. I was wrong. About an hour (or less) before boarding for my flight began I went and talked to the girl and started asking about how my checked baggage from my previous flight was going to get onto this one. She said it wasn’t unless I went and checked in and prayed that someone was still working and would help me. I got very nervous. I hadn’t seen my bag since I left Kathmandu, I wanted a change of clothes and fresh underwear. I ran back upstairs to the transfer desk, the lady there started asking me why I had taken so long to come and talk to her. I felt like an idiot and said I didn’t know. I don’t think I was thinking properly. I had only had two, two hour naps during my twenty four hours in Dubai. After I talked to the lady about printing my boarding pass she told me to go down two levels and talk to the girl there about getting my check bag moved onto the flight that was just about to start boarding. She encouraged me to run. I ran down, only to realize the girl on the previous level didn’t give me the baggage tag, so I had to go all the way back up to get my baggage tag and then run back down and pray that I still had enough time to get my bag on the flight. It was the last flight leaving Dubai to Kuwait (with that airline) for the day. I really needed my bag to make it. Thankfully, after joking around (flirting) with the girl at the baggage desk, my bag made it on the plane and I felt glad again. Mainly because my charm skills can be applied multi-culturally. I ran back upstairs because I still needed my boarding pass. I promptly got it, and went and ran down another flight of stairs to get to the gate. While I was running to my gate, some money was falling out of my pocket. I stopped to get it and realized it was just the coins of one (two cents CAD) and two (four cents CAD) rupees. I realized I didn’t care because they were worth nothing so I just kept running. Due to all of the aimless wandering I had done in the airport, I knew how to get to the appropriate gate easily. I learned a valuable lesson that day, it is much easier to fly through an airport when you use the same airline coming and going. When you have to switch, you add uncontrollable variables.

After a quick hour and bit flight, I arrived in Kuwait. I had done my research for this country and knew I could apply, and receive, a visa upon arrival. The only problem, was finding where to do that. I went to one spot and they sent me upstairs, I looked and couldn’t see anything. I asked somebody and they pointed me in the direction. I went up to the machine which gives you a number. It didn’t work and no one came to help me. Finally, some just said to go to the second booth. It seemed like they were trying to screw me; they had sent me to the only teller that didn’t speak any English. It was like some horribly cruel joke. After I had finished filling out the information sheet, they questioned me on the address. “Where is this?” asked the teller’s friend who spoke English. I answered “Kuwait!” They didn’t seem to appreciate the humour I was leaning towards. I don’t know where it is. I was just told that this is where my family lives. What kind of a question is that? They finally realized that I didn’t know, but that there was enough validity in the address that they could let me through. I was told I needed to go purchase three Kuwait stamps for my visa. I didn’t quite understand why, but I explained I had no Kuwaiti Dinars and that they’d need to give me a minute to go get some. I returned to the vending machine, that gave the stamps, and put in my ten Dinar note, pushed the buttons for the two Dinar stamp, and then the one Dinar stamp. The vending machine had a balance of seven Dinar. No problem, I’ll just hit the refund button. Problem, there is no such thing as a refund button on this stupid vending machine. I was so frustrated at that point that I didn’t care and was willing to just leave it and walk away. The tellers told me to just cash out the stamps and then sell them to the other people in the line behind me, because they would need the same stamps as I did. After several minutes of bardering with different people in the line, I sold all my extra stamps and had my seven Dinar back.

Then I had to go find where my checked bag was. It took me a couple of minutes to go to all of them but I eventually found the right one, and my bag came out minutes later. I was finally able to leave an airport. This was the first time in days. I was very excited! I ran out with all my stuff and heard someone calling my voice, I knew it was Kristy, but I still couldn’t see her. Finally she started waving and I saw her. It was the first time in almost a week that I had seen a familiar face. She then called Matt and told him she found me, because I had taken so long with my visa, they were worried I hadn’t made it onto the flight. Matt had gone up to talk to someone to try and confirm that I had made it. We soon jumped in a taxi and were on our way back to their apartment. They had school the next day so we stayed up a bit chatting and hanging out, but I was exhausted and they needed to go to bed as well.

I slept for eleven hours that night. I thought I had set an alarm but I think I turned it off while I was still asleep. I spent the next couple of hours relaxing in the apartment. Matt came home from school around 3pm and we walked to Starbucks and spent an hour or so relaxing and drink espresso drinks. I truly love hanging out and chatting with this guy. I really feel blessed to have such a close friend in a blood related family member. We hadn’t seen each other in over a year, so it was so good to catch up. Kristy wasn’t too impressed on the hilarious joke tangents we’d go one, but I kept reminding her that I bring the best out of people.

Kristy had some work to do so after dinner Matt and I went to the really fancy mall just to walk around. This mall has several hanging chandlers that are made of just blown glass, and worth millions of dollars. They are really beautiful. It’s weird to be in a place that will just through away money on things like that, considering the poverty I’ve seen in India. It really makes you think. That said, when we went into a sports store I bought a new pair of soccer cleats because they are gold coloured and they were on sale. 

October 1, 2011

Wow it’s October already. Weird. I got arrived safely in Dubai and upon arrival I quickly went running around trying to find my next airline to talk to someone about putting me on an earlier flight. No luck. I arrived at 9pm local time and apparently no one from my next airline works that late. So I had to wait until three hours before the flight I wanted to get on, to talk to someone. Even then, I never actually spoke to someone with the airline. I spoke to someone with the airport (I think) and they made the call and did the talking for me. The flight was full. So I got to try again just after 2pm to see if I can get on the 5pm flight going to Kuwait. Only to find out that that flight is over booked and I’ll just have to stick with my original flight. This means I’m here until 7:30pm (all times are Dubai), just under twenty four hours in the Dubai airport.

When I got to the Dubai airport I was shocked at how many white people were here. I hadn’t seen that many in one place in months. It really took me aback. The airport is beautiful though, it has a Starbucks in it! In all seriousness though, it is setup like a Giant American Mall. I was racing from one end to the other, this included walking forward on the moving sidewalks, and jumping in and out of human traffic. It took me twenty minutes from end to end and I was practically running for part of the way. I know that doesn’t seem big but it is. My fear is that because of my beard that I’ve grown to fit into this Islamic culture, if I start taking photos of the airport, I’ll get arrested. There are parts of the airport that are three levels, each a different shopping experience. It’s a good thing that there is lots to walk to here. Considering I’ve had a day to be trapped in it, I’m glad I got to move around lots.

When I was at the counter waiting to talk to someone about getting myself on an earlier flight I sat beside a nice American couple from Michigan. Through a couple minutes of chatting asking where we were flying from and too I found out that they are missionaries to China and have worked with the Assembly of God in Kolkata where I was. They were there when Mark Buntan was still alive so it was twenty plus years ago but still. They were on their way to Egypt to attend/speak at a conference. But their first flight was delayed four hours leaving Beijing so they were kind of in a pickle trying to figure out what the dickens they were going to do. We had a really good chat though. We talked about what I was going to do when I got back (I still don’t know) and what he goes back to do in Beijing. His job had kind of changed and he seemed on the fence about what his new role would be. He didn’t seem excited, but he knew that change was going to happen and seemed to except it. He said if I am ever in Beijing to give him a shout and gave me his card. Who knows?

I finished reading my fifth book from George Orwell while I was stuck in Delhi but I keep forgetting to give you all my book report on it. Keep the Aspidistra Flying is the book Orwell wrote based on his experiences as a struggling young writer working odd jobs at book stores while trying to pursue making a living with writing. The story follows Gordon Comstock, a young educated man of thirty who swears off the pursuit of money and chooses to live in, almost, poverty, while he attempts to pursue a life as a poet. Even though he despises the thought of money, he is always obsessing over not having any. Even when he is out for a date with his girlfriend all he can think about is how dreadful the rest of the week will be because he has no money to spend (because he’s used it all on the date).

The story follows Gordon’s miserable life as he struggles to buy cigerattes, tries to write poems, and tries to convince his girlfriend to sleep with him. Most of which end in Gordon not quite making the mark. Finally, Gordon sells a poem to an American magazine and gets paid for it. He blows all his money on a nice dinner for his girlfriend and his best friend, and then he gets drunk, and attacks a police sergeant. This incident lands him in jail for the evening, and his boss fires him. Gordon then goes into a depression and figures he’ll lose his friends, and girlfriend, and start living as a bum on the street. He is alright with this decision, he’s always kind of foreseen this as the end game for a person who forbids the pursuit of money. Rosemary (Gordon’s girlfriend) gets him a job offer from a marketing agency. Gordon can’t morally accept this because it would go against his feelings towards having money. None of his friend understand his stance, and start pushing him away. Gordon lands an even worse job working in a bookstore. He gets less money then before, because of the pretence that he is a drunk, and he moves into a lower class apartment.

Rosemary still can’t stop herself from loving him. She eventually forces herself upon him, sexually, to try and get him out of his depressive funk. This results in Rosemary getting pregnant and Gordon now decides to turn his back on feud with money and go asking for that job at the marketing agency to support his child, and his wife (he marries Rosemary).

This was an interesting story. To see that young men have always struggled to find their place in the world, even in the 1930’s. Some of the story paralleled my own life. A good looking (actually Gordon wasn’t that good looking but I’m changing it), able young man trying to fit into a world that doesn’t wait for anyone. Now, clearly there are several things that don’t line up with my life, but I enjoyed this story and am really glad that I’m finally able to start reading nineteen eighty four. The Orwell book I’ve wanted to read for the longest time. 

September 29, 2011

Well I’m currently back in India. You are probably asking “didn’t he say he was leaving there?” and you would be correct I did. Leaving from Kathmandu my connecting flight is through Delhi and of course my flight got delayed. My cousin is waiting for me in the Dubai airport and I’m stuck here in India still. Well, just delayed I’m not stuck here. The other crappy thing about the Delhi airport is that they have wireless internet, but you need to have a local cell phone to access it. Bloody, bloody, bloody! That means I can’t even drop a line to my cousins informing them of my delay. They will notice when they get to Dubai and see what time my flight comes in. I feel bad because I think that means that they have to wait for me at the airport. They didn’t tell me what hotel we were staying at. Silly us. Orginally our flights were only arriving twenty minutes from each other so, no big deal.

Alright enough of me being a pessimist and on to what I did in Nepal. Part of my visit was spent looking at how another organization runs a children’s home. The NGO is called Next Generation Nepal and they primarily focus on reconnecting kids with their families and communities. These children have pretty much been stolen or the parents have given them up under the false pretences’ that they will get an education. This means that NGN has a children’s home, but it’s not for long term care. It is just setup as temporary because the goal of the organization is to get the child back to his/her family. It was really interesting to see how this organization works. The whole thing pretty much relies on three reintegration managers who are like detectives going from village to village asking if this photo is someone they know. These guys go all over Nepal, and there isn’t a 400 series highway that they can drive along. It’s either an overnight bus trip, or maybe a flight, usually it’s a bus ride. My time was good in Kathmandu but I don’t think I like travelling alone. It’s lonely.

As I was writing this post I was approached by a gentleman working for the airline I am flying with. He asked to see my ticket and passport and informed me that because I am Canadian, and I didn’t apply for a visa prior to arrival in Dubai, I cannot board the flight. I was a little upset, but then they threatened to send me back to Kathmandu and I realized that I was not going to get angry with anyone because I just want to stay here in the airport. I did not want to fly backwards. Heck, I was about to offer to just screw it all and fly me home to Canada if it’ll be that big of a deal. The maximum time I could stay in Dubai, without a visa, is a day and because my flight leaving Dubai is on October First, I could not board the plane. I was then asked to talk to several different people explaining every detail to each of them separately and after hours of sitting and praying that I wouldn’t get arrested or sent back to Nepal, I was able to spend the next twenty four hours here in the Delhi airport. The thing was, they wanted to hold on to my passport (by they I mean the airline people). Like anyone else, I was hesitant. They explained that last time a situation like this happened, they gave the persons passport back and he just left the airport. I don’t know how but he did. I told them I was smarter then that but I think that this was the first situation where my beard did me no favours. I probably looked dangerous to them. Like I’ve said before, Indians love moustaches. If I had a moustache I probably wouldn’t have had any problems and people would have been offering to give me back rubs. But alas, I had a beard, trendy and hip in North America, dirty and lazy in this part of the world. That said, it would have been amazing if they would have let me leave the airport. I could have seen Delhi and the Taj Mahal but because I voided my Indian Visa when I left to go to Nepal, I wasn’t allowed to leave the airport. I felt like a caged animal. I wandered around for a bit before finding a hotel. It was expensive but I got a room to spend the next twenty four hours in, wifi (something I didn’t have in the terminal), a meal, and a shower. The meal I received was breakfast buffet, and I was glad because that meant I was able to steal food and keep it in my room for lunch. My stomach has shrunk, and I can’t pack it away like I used to. That is probably why I’ve been able to lose twenty pounds since being here. 

September 27, 2011

Monday afternoon I arrived safely in Kathmandu, Nepal. This is the first part of my trip that I have kind of been travelling by myself. When I arrived in India, Stew came to pick me up, so I didn’t have to worry about getting myself around. This was a different case in Nepal. I don’t really know anyone here, so I had to get myself around. I hadn’t applied for a Nepali visa prior to leaving, I knew I could get one upon arrival. I was still anxitous about it though. I don’t know why, in retrospect everything went perfectly fine. Then I went and got a taxi to take me to my Hotel. Upon arriving at the hotel I told them I had already booked a room. They told me that all of their rooms where full. I was very confused by this. So I pulled out my email confirmation and showed it to them, then magically they had a room. I still don’t understand. For dinner I made a new friend and we went out for pizza. Trying to learn where things are in a new city at night, is difficult. For an hour I just kept walking around trying to get lost so that I could figure out how to get back to my hotel. It’s usually the best way to get familiar with a new city.

September 26, 2011

Saturday I woke up and had three spats of diarrhea before 8am. I decided to cancel on Krishna. He had asked me to help out and do some tech stuff with him. I was actually looking forward to it, but when I realized that I didn’t have this bug out of my system, I knew I needed to cancel on him. It was hard though. He gave me his cell number weeks ago but whenever he has contacted me he did it with a different number. I looked up both numbers and called, no answer. I knew I had to get a hold of him, so I bailed on him via text message. I knew that it was a horrible thing to do, but I felt horrible and would have been no good to him. I spent all day Saturday doing laundry, watching rugby games and then watching soccer games. It was a pretty good day for staying inside all day. Tim and Akshey came in around dinner time and I sat and watched a movie with them.

Sunday was my last full day here in Kolkata and it was bittersweet. I really ahven’t felt bad about leaving Kolkata. I think this is because I’m so excited about my next couple of flights going to new places. We all went to the early service at church so that the Shaw’s and I could go out for a nice brunch; I treated. I felt like it was the least I could do after they let me stay in their home and eat some of their food. Back to church, Pastor Ivan was gearing up for the churches conference next weekend. His message was on taking what you know as a Christian to your city and friends. When he announced his topic I kind of wrote off the sermon. I thought “oh I don’t really need to listen to this because I’m leaving tomorrow.” Yet again though, God seemed to show me something special in that message. Every time I write something off God always proves me wrong. There were two things that really stood out in the service.

A) being salt and light to the world.

B) not conforming to the culture that surrounds us.

Let’s talk about A) for a bit. We have all heard this saying in christain circles for years, but I never knew what it meant. Well the light part is easy, but what does the salt mean? Why should we be the sodium to the world? Pastor Ivan explained that in Jesus’ time, they didn’t have any way of preserving food (espically meat). The only way they could preserve it would be to rub salt into it. Naturally, if you left the meat to itself and the elements, it would rot. Same with a room, when the sun goes down, it becomes dark. Pastor Ivan said that we can’t blame the meat for going rotten, just like we can’t blame the room for going dark at night. These things naturally happen. Our culture, when left to itself, will turn rotten and dark. That’s why we are called to be the salt and light to the world. We are all born evil and when we are left to our natural desires, we become rotten.

B) stood out for obvious reasons. I am going home to a culture that is different then what I have become used to. Adapting back will be tough, but I don’t need to be controlled to that culture the way I was before. I am going back changed and I need to remember that to stay focused.

In the afternoon, Monique gave me the questions to the debrief they do. I had thought through most of these questions in my head already, but putting them on paper helped. These are similar questions people are going to ask me when I get home, so I should have some answers ready for them.

Then we went to evening church. Hope was singing an ensemble for part of the service. We had to go to encourage her. The funniest part was right before Hope went up on stage. She left her seat when right before she needed to meet backstage. She decided she had time to go to the restroom, but she didn’t. Once the rest of the ensemble were on stage waiting for two minutes or so, Zac asked if Hope could please come to the stage. She didn’t come, she was still in the restroom. Tim called her and told her they were waiting for her on stage. She rushed out and ran onto stage. She looked so embaressed. I felt bad for her. I laughed at her, but I felt bad. We played if off later as Hope just making a really elaborate entrance. She preformed very well.

As it was my last night in Kolkata, I went out with some other young adults from church. We had such a great time playing games and chatting. Zac kept going around telling people to not say good bye to me because I was only going home for two months and then I was coming back. I kept laughing. I didn’t know if her was trying to force prophecy into my life or if he just had the facts wrong. I have really grown quite fond of these guys. Jobin and Zac are really cool guys that I would hang out with again. Jobin said he’ll be home for Christmas, so I think we’ll try and get to together then. Zac has never been to Canada before, so I told him he now has two good reasons to come and visit (Jobin and i).

As I write this I’m sitting in the airport waiting for my flight to Nepal to depart. For those that don’t know about my next travels. I am flying to Nepal for three days. From there I go to Dubai to meet up with my cousin Matt, and his wife Kristy. We spend the weekend together there and then travel together back to Kuwait where I will spend a week visiting with them there. Then I travel home. I would like to take a quick moment to thank video games. I know that sounds weird, but, video games are keeping me entertained while I’m sitting here. I watch the Indian army guys walk by and I look at their guns and thanks to the video games I have played in the past, I am able to, correctly, identify what the name of that gun is. On a more serious note, it is weird to think this is my last moments in India. Maybe forever, maybe not. It’s not in my hands. I still don’t know what is next for me but I think that’s ok. I’m sure when I get home some doors will open for me. 

September 23, 2011

Thursday was actually my last day at the children’s home. I spent Thursday morning taking my last photos of everyone and gathering all my things. It was sad. The children kept asking me to stay. Other then actually leaving the home, the rest of the day was uneventful. I arrived back at the Shaw’s and relaxed. I finally got to meet Stew and Monique’s other son, Tim. He arrived earlier in the week.

Friday was more eventful. I was going with the team to Howrah with the full team. The girls had never been before and wanted to experience it before they left. It was funny how some of the guys on the team felt like they were experts and knew everything about the train station and the people there. From there we went to the drop in centre and spent some time with those kids. We sang songs and had a prayer time with them. It was good. I had an extra prayer time there (by that I mean I fell asleep) and the team members kept bugging me about it. I was in a really hot room and still not fully healthy. So I kept telling them to stop judging me because I was more spiritual then them by praying more.

From there we went and got lunch. I felt sick after lunch but that’s because I had my meal and one of the meals of the girls on the team because she decided she couldn’t eat it and in retrospect I probably shouldn’t have eaten it. The problem was, it looked so good I couldn’t say no.

The afternoon we spent doing a fellowship time with the jewellery girls and two members of the team shared their testimonies. The one guy came from a Hindu background and it was good that he shared because the girls were really able to connect with his story. The other testimony I still don’t actually understand. It didn’t make a lot of sense.

After that I went out and had dinner with Jobin, Zac, Janelle, Kari, and Hope. It was a good time spent with each other. I ordered something that sounded good, but in reality tasted gross, so I stole the leftovers from other peoples plates. It was a savoury crepe and it didn’t sit well with me. 

September 21, 2011

I just left a room full of twenty plus people, and most of them were in tears. I don’t think I’ve made that much of an impact ever before. I read my last story to the children this evening and then started saying my goodbye to them. You know what, I’m jumping ahead of myself. Let’s ride the emotional roller coaster together.

I started off this morning feelings worse then I have any other morning. I felt like I hadn’t slept more then thirty minutes at any stretch, and my stomach and bowels were in such pain that I didn’t know how I was going to get out of bed. I did make it out of bed, I really had to use the restroom. I went downstairs to the restroom I usually use and noticed it was occupied. I was frustrated, Who is using my restroom? Don’t they know that I am going to make an awful mess in my pants if they don’t get out of there? I knocked and no answer. So I waited, and I waited. Finally, after about ten minutes I went upstairs to get a roll of toilet paper so that I could use a different restroom. After I was finished, I went and partook in devotions. I didn’t have any breakfast, I felt I wouldn’t have been able to keep it in. While everyone was enjoying breakfast, I went to the restroom again. I knew no one could be in my restroom this time. I tired, and the door was still locked. I got ever more frustrated that someone had locked from the inside my restroom. Then I pulled the door handle the opposite way, and I felt like a huge tool.

I spent the rest of my day in my room praying that the pain would lessen. It didn’t really, and I was just so tired. I think I managed two naps today. There was a portion of the afternoon where I felt better and was sociable with the girls. I felt I needed to be considering I had ignored them and hid in my room for a good portion of the time they have been here. Unfortunately, being sociable made me incredibly tired yet again. I went to my room and relaxed for another little bit. I knew I wanted to spend some time taking individual photos of me with each of the children and then a group shot. When I got back down, the girls had decided it was a great idea to paint all of the children’s faces. This was not how I wanted my photos. I was frustrated (there is a bit of a theme throughout this day if you haven’t noticed yet). Not to mentioned, the girls had ruined the evening class by doing face painting. How are some of these kids going to enter school for the first time in less then a year if classes keep getting skipped? Maybe I’m cursed by having the slightest bit of foresight to see any of these things. Anyways, after the face painting and dancing was done (I think I forgot to mention that speakers were brought up for dance time, again not class time) I read a bible story to the children to settle them down a bit. Once the story was done I started saying my good bye to them. Quick side note, I thought it was better to do my good bye with the children today, and part of tomorrow, because the team is coming again on Saturday. I could come with the team then. But I didn’t want to confuse my good bye with the children with that of the teams good bye.

As I started, some of the children started crying and then some of the adults started crying. Not the girls on the team, but Jorusha, and Jomoona. The interesting thing was that the children that were crying were the older children. I would have assumed that it would have been the younger ones. It was a really rough evening. It was filled with tears, and hugs and good byes. I still feel bad that I made a room of twenty plus people, children and adults, cry. Again I felt like a tool. One of the important things that I had learned in my previous times working with children is to let them know when you start that there will be an ending date. For the whole month, the children have been bargaining with me to stay longer.  I have been able to stay firm that I was leaving on the 26^th of September but I guess it never really sunk in until this moment.

At dinner it was hard because a lot of the children couldn’t even make eye contact with me. They seemed to be too upset. One of the girls on the team mentioned how she had never seen children so emotional about someone leaving, and her mom operated a day care. She tried to play it off that the children have issues with abandonment, but I know the real reason. They love me about as much I love them and we’re collectively going to miss each other so much of the next couple of weeks. It’ll be a hard transition for me.