Home Visits

Starting on Wednesday, our days we very similar.  We got up between 7 and 7:30 unless we were on the schedule to make breakfast.  If we were making breakfast, we were up about an hour before that to fix whatever is we had planned to fix.  We had several good cooks amongst us; and as we found out, there is not much that we can make that tastes bad.  We had eggs, french toast, baked oatmeal with fruit, muffins, banana bread, and even pancakes.  At 8:15, the social workers would show up and someone would lead us in a short devotion and morning prayer.  Then, we would split up into groups of 3-4 and go visit families in their homes.  

Home visits are hard to describe and sound a lot more difficult than they really are.  We could take several modes of transportation to get to the home.  Our options included walking, Bajaj, taxi, and horse buggy.  Once there, the social worker would tell us the family history and some of their story.  Often times, the child or children were living with guardians because their parents had died.  Sometimes, the moms had jobs but most of the times they didn't.  Several families were affected by HIV either in the parents, kids, or both.  They have experienced much heartache, sorrow, and scary circumstances.  Many times, a family would be split up with children living with different relatives because it was too hard to care for all them in the same home.  Small children are forced to grow up quickly because they need to take care of younger sibling or sick parents and guardians.  We only visited one home that had a 2 parents but both had HIV.  However, despite all this they were not broken people.  They are beautiful, courageous, strong, God loving, and Christ praising individuals.  We tell them the bread is good and they praise the Lord. We ask them for prayer requests and parents ALWAYS talk about their children and not themselves.  They have nothing but offer us coffee, tea, and bread anyway.  They trust in Him for their basic provisions and know that He will provide even when they give their last piece to strangers.  

We always took gifts for the families.  The social workers would tell us the ages of the children and pick out some of the shoes that would fit.  We would take balls, toys, clothes, hats, coloring books, crayons, pencils, and children's books.  We would share them with the kids and spend time playing with them and laughing with them.  There was language barrier, but it doesn't seem to matter when you kicking around a soccer ball or playing monkey in the middle.  

Many times, neighborhood kids would try to peek in and see what was going on with white people.  They usually weren't too intrusive and the kids were always nice to share.  We had to be careful because one you gave something to one you had better have enough for everyone and then they would just keep coming.

It's amazing how much families and neighbors will look out for each other.  Often times, a child's guardian would be someone from the compound who took him or her in after the parent's death.  Or if a parent had to be at work, the neighbors would take a child to the doctors and watch out for them at home.  Without smartphones, internet, TVs, and computers, they are dependent on real human relationships to pass the time.  Conversations, friendships, and games with sticks and ball are how they pass their time.  It's something we should try to do with more purpose because it's what really matters but is too often overlooked.