While we were in Mbonisweni staying at the Iris Ministries' childrens village there, we would go to the community center where they served a meal every afternoon. (This is the same place I mentioned in my blog "African Riot.") Before the kids and mothers received their food, we usually did some fun songs (complete with hand motions and funny voices) and a Bible lesson. I want to share a story with you about what happened after the lesson one day...
I was sitting on some concrete blocks observing all the kids as they ate their food, waiting for them to finish. As the people then began to trickle out the gate to walk back to their homes, I noticed 3 adorable little girls, about the age of 5 or 6, sitting on the other side of the open shelter. They were sitting there in their dirty, ripped dresses shyly glancing at me, so I stood up and walked over to them, much to their surprised enjoyment.
"Kunjani?" (How are you?) I asked them. "Sikona," (We're fine.) they quietly whispered.
After that, we just kind of awkwardly looked at each other because I know very, very little siSwati. I wanted to ask them what their names were, but I didn't know how to do so. Stupid language barrier. A local young man we know, who can speak English, tried to tell me how to ask their names, but my un-African tongue had troubles forming the same syllables. When I attempted to then apply this newly-learned question, I got no answers. Either they were too shy to tell me their names, which is very possible, or I slaughtered the question, which is also very possible.
More awkward staring...with the addition of smiling. Then I had an idea. A gentle poke in each of their stomachs resulted in bigger smiles and slight giggling. Again, but with more giggling. Then all 3 girls were laughing. Another girl soon joined us to get in on the fun. Another girl came, and another girl, and another girl, etc., until there were about 10 little girls surrounding me. After that, there was no going back. It was an all-out tickle monster game.
I ran after them to catch them and hear them squeal and laugh in delight when I did so. Somehow, we reversed roles, and I was the one they were chasing to tickle. Considering how ticklish I am, I couldn't stop laughing and neither could they. The wonderful sounds of little girls giggling echoed off the roof and bounced off the walls of the community center, until the air was filled with laughter.
Eventually, it was time for them to go home, much to the dismay of us all; however, my heart was glad that I had been able to let them be children and forget about the sadness that many of them experience(d), even though it was only for a little while. The memory of these little girls and their joyous laughter is so precious to me, and I will always cherish it.
