The House(s) of Hope

Bonjour tout le monde! I haven't written in a while - not because nothing is happening here, but because I am learning to deal with one of the realities of life in Senegal...the daily power outage. We've had one every day that I've been here, except for today - which could very well mean that I will finish this tomorrow. I've asked a few people why we lose power every day and the consensus is that there simply isn't enough capacity available to meet the demand for energy in the summer. Someone also noted that the government has been known to not pay its bills on time and that the electric company in fact does have the capacity, but cuts the power every day to put pressure on the government to pay up. Whatever the case, it's a daily occurance and lately it's been hapenning in the evenings when I usually have time to write. The lights (and computers and fans and refrigerators) usually go off for 2-5 hours at a time. For me, it's really more of a nuisance than anything, but I've noticed that some businesses have bought generators to keep the power going. In other parts of the country, however, it's more of a problem. In Popenguine, where I started, we were losing power for 8-10 hours a day. Iain is in charge of finances for WEC Senegal, and more than once he was forced to work late into the night on the computers because that was simply the only time he could! A steady current of electricity is something I always take for granted (unless there's a nor'easter blowing outside) but it is far from a sure thing here.

Sooo this is a post I've been wanting to write for a long time: what exactly am I doing here (besides butchering the French language)? The truth is that it took me about a week for me to figure that out myself. This week I've been able to get into a bit of a routine and get comfortable with my role here. There are actually two Houses of Hope here in Dakar, which are home to 20 boys aged between 8 and 17. I'm living with the older boys in the creatively named Maision I and the 8 younger ones live in - you guessed it - Maison II. Now Casibo, the man who runs this ministry, warned me to use discretion with what I write online (and that I should not post any photos of the boys, sorry) about the Houses and the boys, so I will err on the side of caution with what I say. At least that's what I think he was telling me. It was in French, so he very well could have been reminding me to take my malaria pills. In short, the Maision d'Espoir houses boys who for one reason or another were preiously living on the streets of Dakar. They have either been orphaned or separated from their families. Many of them have been victims of abuse at the hands of marabouts, religious leaders who served as their guardians after their parents were no longer in their lives. The boys who live here come of their own volition and stay here because they want to. Sometimes, they run away. The Maision gives the boys a place to live, access to an education, good clothing, 3 solid meals a day, and a safe community. Most importantly, the Maision is a place where the boys are respected and shown the love of Jesus.

My typical day here is as follows: wake up at 8, have breakfast and get ready for the day. At 9:15 school starts at Maison II for the youngins. I help Nicholas, a young guy from Switzerland who's been here since February, teach the kids. Though my French is limited, I've suprised myself with how much I've been able to communicate and actually teach the boys. Usually I work one-on-one with one of the boys who is just beginning to learn French - it feels good (though confusing) to be teaching somebody the language that I struggle with. So we do phonics and reading and math and I actually do teach them some things. School runs until noon (since it's summer they're on a half-day schedule) and Nicholas and I return to Maision I for lunch. After lunch is siesta until 3. I'm beginning to understand why they take siesta. Recently, I haven't really rested during siesta and I find myself exhausted even though I'm sleeping well. You need the siesta to get through the hot humid days, especially sans air conditioning. In the afternoon, I hang out with the older boys. Often we go to the Catholic school nearby where there is a soccer "field" (more like a dust bowl with rocks strewn everywhere) and a basketball court. If we don't go out, we play board games in the house. Dinner is at 7ish and after we talk some more or watch TV. My favorite thing to do is really just to do whatever the boys want to do. I'm really enjoying getting to know them all!

One of my concerns as I arrived here was how I would be received and how I would get along with the boys. As I've already written, I've had an extremely warm welcome. But I had a realization yeserday as to why exactly I felt so comfortable here so quickly. I was certainly worried that I might feel alone here. Very quickly, though, I came to feel like I had 22 brothers with me, who were looking out for me and were going to make sure I didn't do anything stupid. They told me when to cross the street (crosswalks are non-existent and nobody stops for pedestrians), what was in my food (nothing suspicious so far), made sure I only drank filtered water, clarified what somebody was saying when I didn't understand, and showed me how things are done around the house. And they've given me gifts, from drawings to snacks to a bracelet with my name on it. I feel accepted and appreciated by them and I'm so blessed to have met them all.
Here's the bracelet: