Though we certainly experienced our fair share of heartache while we in Malawi (the Whole Story begins here), we actually had fun too. A trip to Africa would make many Americans’ bucket list, but it’s unlikely we would ever have taken the time away from our children, or the money, to go there if not for an adoption. You all have borne with me through the sad parts of our saga, so I thought it was only appropriate to share our more joyful moments as well.
These first photos are from what will remain my most memorable of birthdays. Our dear friend Kondi took us to a village just minutes outside the capital city of Lilongwe. It’s just a quick drive, and not much longer walk, to a developing, urban environment, yet most of the children – even teenagers – have never left their village, and very rarely seen “uzungus” (“white people” in Chichewa) like us. If our skin alone wasn’t enough of a novelty, the soap, rice and candy we brought along made us instant hits. The chief gave us a tour of his home, the villagers sat us down in their nicest (only?) plastic chairs, and the children all gathered to sing a number of their favorite songs. They especially enjoyed seeing themselves on our cameras’ LCD screens, and patiently waited in line for their share of the Tootsie Rolls. Everyone there was impoverished by our standards (some of the children even had the orangey hair of the malnourished), but were remarkably hospitable, kind and happy. On that particular day I was feeling rather sorry for myself that I couldn’t be home with our children, and was struck with the realization that I’ve never once had to worry about getting them enough to eat. I was humbled by the thought of all that I choose to complain about when I truly have so very much.