KIDDINESS -- FUNNY, BOTH SIDES..

 
Cary dug out her sun glasses and a ball cap.  She could hardly wait to hit the streets from the YWAM compound, having just reached Soroti a couple hours earlier.

As Jill had said, YWAM was right next to a large IDP camp.  As Cary and Jill walked past, people smiled and children ran out to look closely at them.  The children usually stopped right at the edge of the pathway, hesitant to get any nearer to these “strangers.”  Women nursing their infants sat under the few scrawny trees, with a tiny bit of shade, a slightly cooler place.  Under the veranda on the nearby building, people were resting on woven mats, surrounded by piles of belongings, nothing fancy, but obviously “treasures” for these who had grabbed some small bit from their house or yard as they ran to escape the rebels.

Cary nudged Jill gently.  “This is a first for me.  I’ve seen it on TV, of course, for years in many places, but never have I seen such in-your-face sorrow.”

Jill nodded.  “This week, while walking through here, I’ve been overwhelmed day by day, wishing I could somehow turn everything around, simply because my heart desires to do so.”

After cutting through the camp, they headed across the park, that, until recently, obviously had been flowerful and colorful, and well-cared-for.  Now, cattle wandered around, grazing and leaving manure piles here and there.  Kids, young and old, played soccer, using a ball made from black plastic bags rolled together and tied over with chunks of bamboo “rope”, possibly a rock inside to add some real structure.  

Cary chuckled when she saw some kids using plastic bags to “sled” down a dirt pile.  Another laugh popped out of her mouth while watching a young boy laying on the branch of a small tree, hands and legs clasped around it, while other kids bounced it up and down, giving him a ride.  When she laughed, loudly, it caught their attention and they dropped the branch and ran towards her, the little one slipping off last and rushing to catch up.

Just like the kids in the IDP camp, they suddenly froze in place about 20 feet away from Cary and Jill.  Cary and Jill smiled at them, and Cary turned to Jill and said, “Let’s walk away, and I’ll show you what I used to do sometimes near our house in Kampala.”  Jill raised her eyebrows, shrugged and turned and they walked for a few yards, and they could hear footsteps behind them, some rushing forward and then slowing and all kinds of whispering going on. 

Suddenly, Cary jumped around and hollered “BOO!!”  And they all screamed and ran, and while she stood there laughing, they started coming closer, laughing, too, and began to reach out their hands to her.  She held her hand out, and stretched out her arm towards them, and they slid next to her and Jill and began touching their white skin and then giggling and jumping backwards.  

And this went on and on for a couple minutes.  Cary asked Jill, “How do we say ‘hi’ in their language?”  Jill said, “It’s the only word I’ve managed to learn.  It’s ‘yoga’, the emphasis on that second syllable.”  They both said, “YoGA” and the kids said it back and then threw in lots of other words, and the kids just stood there and laughed while Jill and Cary shook their heads and shrugged their shoulders and waved ‘no’ with their hands.  

The two of them finally indicated through hand-motioning that they had to leave, and started walking away rather rapidly to get the point across.  They knew some of the kids, from that time on, would always be watching for them.

As Jill and Cary were walking away, Cary dug into her skirt pocket.  “I’m glad I grabbed this on the way out.  It was good to be able to touch, and be touched by, those children, but now, as our pastor friends on Entebbe Road would say, it’s time to wash off the ‘Praise the Lord’.”  Cary covered her hands and rubbed her arms up to the elbow with the sanitizer and passed it over to Jill, both happy from their time with the kids.  

Yes, the kids were mostly dressed in rags, or hardly anything at all, and they had green-gunk noses, and filthy bodies, but they were funny and seemingly enjoying the life they were being forced to live --- 

a joyfulness Cary could never have imagined.