A Day at the Orphanage!

This past Saturday I had the opportunity to participate in an outreach day put on by the local international Christian school--Sahel Academy. My friend Katherine and I signed up to go spend the morning at a local orphanage. Back in my jr. high days in Cote d'Ivoire, my mother and I had been volunteers at two orphanages, of which I have fond memories and so off we went.

aren't they cute?!

This orphanage is run by an African, Christian couple who want to raise up Christian children who will then move back to their villages and be salt and light. Very cool.

When we got there, the children where still finishing up breakfast and getting ready for the day and we were put in a court yard that housed their classroom and playground, to wait. Peaceful, tranquil and then--CHAOS!!

They children were extremely cute. There were probably twenty-some of them and they were all quite young. They all spoke very good French and referred to me as "Auntie" which made me feel so old, surprising enough since the children on my team call me auntie as well. Every child fought for attention and every thirty seconds you had a child pulling at you saying, "Auntie, Auntie..."

We colored for a while. If the color you wanted was not within arms reach, the children would hop up onto the table and walk across to where the desired color lay. Forget asking someone to pass it!

vroom, vroom!

coloring with Katherine

There were all sorts of toys to play with in the classroom--a wagon and a little car that children pulled or pushed each other on. No one sat still longer that 30 seconds--in fact, it reminds me of the Christmas morning scene from "How the Grinch Stole Christmas." The room was filled with the chaotic sounds of children having a great time!

After an hour and a bit, it was time to paint the jungle gym out in the courtyard. All the children wanted to help and most of the children were not old enough for such a task, but there was no stopping them. I am actually surprised at how little paint was on my clothes when I came home, as children, time after time, would come and tug on my skirt with their paint covered hands. While the paint job is not the greatest looking, the children had a great time doing it, and that's what counts in the end, right?


One of my favorite quotes of the day came from two of the little expat girls that came with us. They were probably somewhere between the ages of seven and nine. They'd disappeared somewhere and when they returned they excitedly reported, "We helped some of the kids wash their clothes--BY HAND! Now I know what it feels like to be a REAL African!"