ten. Sweet Sarah

Tonight I was working on school paper in the dining room. Windows open- the breeze was cool and the yelling at the bar next store erupting in unison with the futbol match on TV ensured two more reasons for me to fall in love with Uganda.

I heard tiny knock on the door. I looked up and through the mesh screen was Sarah- an 11 year old who came to my house for our “girls day” just one day before. Sarah always seemed to be showing up. She wasn’t supposed to come the day before, but she was with the group waiting on the school steps for me to arrive to pick them up and bring them to town. She was all dressed up like the others. I knew I didn’t know her from school, but I couldn’t help but be drawn to her sweetness. When I told her to jump on the boda her face lit up like the lightening bugs we see at night in the sugar cane fields. I could tell it meant much to her that she could join. It meant much to me as well that she wanted to come. During our sharing time in group- she was the last to go, and it took her about 2 minutes, and me moving next to her and reminding her that she was just as important as everyone else in the room, “ We want to her what you have to say!” Finally, and quietly the words stumbled out until she finished with her head in her hands, smiling, and proud- but exhausted from the energy it took her to believe in herself.

Later, as I gave the girls taxi money home that night and kissed their cheeks goodbye, Sarah refused to go. “ I want to sleep at your house, you have enough space.” She was right, I did but, it would not be fair to the other girls, and I needed to keep working. I explained that to her when unconvinced and angry she piled into the taxis’ with the others.

So here she was again. At my door, taking up the invitation I gave to the girls to come by anytime despite the far distance that divides their village from my apartment. 

I welcomed her and told her she was just in time- I needed a break. We made juice and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. She told me more of her story; memories of when her father died, and what she loves about her sister.  We went for a walk and found some ice cream. We didn’t say much- just held hands and watched the street traffic for a while with a strangling comment here and there about how good the ice cream was.

It was getting dark and I was going to ride with her back to village to make sure she was safe. When I called a boda- she told me that she can stay with me for the night.   “ My mom said you can keep me, I don’t have school tomorrow.” I knew the school was open since I go to the school every day to hang out with the girls and help out if they need me.

She spent the next few minutes explaining that she hangs around school, but can’t go since her mom doesn’t work and they can’t afford school fees.

I asked her how much school fees were.

10,000 shillings per quarter was her reply.

40,000 for one school year.

10,000 shillings equals 4 dollars.

I realized quickly that the ice cream we just bought was 6,500 shillings and for the first time since my time abroad I really felt the difference between her and I; deep in my gut.

I wasn’t sure what to say, and I know there are tons of kids peaking in the school windows everyday trying to pick up what they can from the teachers at the front.

I popped her on the boda and jumped behind her. 15 minutes later we were in her village. I kissed her cheek and made her give me back my aviators she insisted on wearing even though it was dark now. It was so nice to spend time with just her.

Yesterday, on the boda ride home today, and for the rest of my life I am sure I will be sincerely stumped at why WE can’t help US all.

It takes 4 dollars to get this little one in school. That’s a late night trip to McDonalds. That’s buying bottled water instead of getting a water bottle and a purifier instead. That’s one less drink at the bar and 1/8 of shirt you don’t really need.

 I think it would make us all better people if we “sacrificed” some luxury so that someone else in the world- even if you don’ t know them- can have access to something as necessary as education. God knows she deserves it. But, it just doesn’t seem important to the rest of the world most times does it. We are too busy working and buying things to fill voids in our life to bother with others from far away lands-lands that produces those things that temporarily fill those voids.  I think maybe if people would travel more they could see it and then it could become important to them. But, even if you choose not to see it, it’s still there.

How do I connect kids like Sarah (and there are millions)- to the rest of the world? How do share people’s stories and let others see their hearts and smiles that assuredly is the ticket to moving our global community to resemble a community that really cares about each other? 

It starts with me I know, so this week I am going to make some changes and cut out the occasional (and really expensive) burger I grab once in awhile. I think that will be easy to do here in Africa. But, I am also going to spend some time thinking about what changes I am going to make when I get home- where living simply seems harder. The world “living simply” is extremely relative now and I can’t imagine that will ever become what it was for me before my travels. I am thankful for that.