i can't do this. i'm not strong enough.

We started actual volunteer work today at Huruma. We were late starting off, and didn't arrive in at the orphanage until nearly 10:00. Kirstin and Cynnimin, who were coming from another part of town and were supposed to meet up with us at the orphanage, were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps they had already arrived, I thought--but when I inquired after them, the sisters said they hadn't seen them. I felt my stomach begin to twist together nervously and asked Marie (who had accompanied us again, to call Baraza and ask if he knew where they were). Meanwhile, the sisters took us to the baby ward (the orphanage consists of three wards: the baby ward, the ward for special needs children, and a ward for women with disabilities).

The babies were toddling around in their cribs, and one latched onto me. I just held him, mostly for my own sake. I still didn't know where Kirstin and Cynnimin were, and the slums aren't exactly the ideal place for one to be lost. I held onto the little boy because I needed someone to hold onto. I thought that I would know, somehow, if something had happened to Kirstin and Cynnimin, but I was still anxious. One of the mamas (the Kenyan women hired by the orphanage to help out and take care of the wards) beckoned to us and set us to washing the windows. I let go of the little boy and he began to wail, and the other babies joined in.

I started to cry too. Tears that trembled in my eyes and I refused to allow spill over because I didn't want anyone to see. I felt helpless--I just thought, I can't do anything, for anyone. I couldn't hold the little boy, I didn't have enough arms to hold each crying baby. I didn't know where Kirstin and Cynnimin were, and some strange miscommunication (which would be later be righted) made us think they were at the Huruma police station at one point, and I couldn't just up and leave and scamper about the slums, looking for them. I'm not strong enough, God, I thought. I'm not strong enough for anything. And the thought crushed me.

We were folding laundry when a woman arrived, leading Kirstin and Cynnimin--they had been there all along, just in the special children ward (I mean really, how could no one else who we asked not have spotted a pair of white girls?). When I realized it was them approaching us, I nearly shlumped to the floor with relief. I went over and hugged them as tightly as I could. Again, mostly for my own sake.