September 24th – Red Cross
The Big 5 group is here (5 of the people who joined us for the Pathfinders course two weeks prior), and they’re getting their orientation today. So, since Tara & I had that a few weeks ago, they had to find another way to occupy us. And, since it’s Monday… well, Red Cross it is.
We were dropped off at the Red Cross at about 10am, which is entirely too early, since nothing really needs to get started until about 11. We both had brought books, so we were reasonably well occupied. Around 11, we started helping with the cooking — sadza & baked beans. (Are they baked when they’re done in a cauldron? Hmm. Boiled beans? Who knows. Cooking isn’t really my thing…)
I’m always amazed at how incredibly strong the women are here. (Well, the men as well, but this relates to the women, so…) These are full on cauldrons, like a stereotypical witches cauldron — double double toil and trouble style — and they first get mixed in with a long handled whisk. It looks quite easy, but … sadza is bloody thick. It takes some serious muscle power to get that whisk to spin. These women do it as though they’re stirring tea.
Once the children arrived, we started handing out plates. They get absolutely gigantic portions, as far as I’m concerned. Very filling food, too. But they devour it like nothing else, not a single one leaving anything behind on the plate… from the smallest child to the largest. The age range tends to be around 8 months to about 12 or 13, and they generally all get the same amount. There’s one child who’s 16 who comes (but due to illness, appears barely 12) … they feed him, but he’s not allowed to eat with the other children — they put his food into a tupperware container and send him on his way.
It’s just as heartbreaking as it was last week.
One woman brings in a little girl… the woman has a wooden leg (with an obviously snapped-off missing foot) and the child is the skinniest baby I’ve ever seen. She appears about 10 months old or so (but could very well be older — judging ages is nearly impossible) but her neck is so thin I’m amazed she can hold up her head. Her legs are like sticks.
I’ve met a lot of picky eaters before — my sister being the one that comes to mind first. It’s funny… when I was growing up, there was always the line “Eat everything on your plate, there are children starving in Ethiopia” … and before that, I’m told the line was “children starving in China”. And so on. Regardless of how old you are… there were always starving children in some far off place. Well… there are starving children in Zimbabwe, and now that I’ve seen them, fed them, played with them, and taken pictures of them… it seems like a much more valid reason to eat everything on your plate than it did when I was a kid.
My sister is a bit of a picky eater. I want to show her these kids and make her understand why it’s such a shame to leave so much food behind. But hell, she’s not-quite-six. I didn’t care about theoretical children in other countries when I was six.
The problem is… they’re no longer theoretical to me, and it breaks my heart.
—
Ok, this was seriously funny, and really ruined the “somber” mood I was in while writing: As I was writing up this journal entry, sitting on my bed in my room with the door open… a monkey popped his head in. I was a bit startled — when the curtains started moving, I was expecting Tara, or maybe one of the cats. Nope! Monkey. In retrospect, I should have taken his picture… but I was a bit too shocked, and instead shooed him off. Cheeky monkey.
I’m really starting to understand where the term “cheeky monkey” comes from. They really are cheeky little bastards.
For the record, Carol Ann is not as picky about eating as her sister.
Me, a picky eater? Since when?
I’m talking about when you were 5, silly.
Well, that’s because I didn’t care about theoretical children in other countries… :D