On Sunday, we miss going to church with B because we can’t work out the water system in the house. I manage to take so long getting clean that M can’t go, and so we all meet B after church. At the church, we see an AHOPE family that has just adopted a boy and a girl, and the little boy is one of M and B’s favorites. He lets M hold him, but when his mother walks by, he immediately reaches for her.  We consider this a good sign.

After B finishes church, her missionary friends take us all to a nearby restaurant for some ferenge food. Ferenge is the Amharic word for foreigner (or white foreigner, I guess), and it is a word we come to know very well. The restaurant serves hamburgers, and I am unable to resist, even though I don’t really like beef.

Bs friends have been living in Ethiopia for years and years, and they run a printing company for Christian publications. After lunch, they take us to check out their new construction, because they want T to make sure it’s legit. It doesn’t look particularly legit to T by Western standards, but in Ethiopia, he figures it’s fine. Now, if the whole thing collapses, I figure they can blame him.

When we get home, we meet Abebe, who is the social worker at AHOPE. He wants to take us to both children’s compounds, and I virtually jump in the van. As soon as we arrive at the younger compound, we are mobbed by kids. One little boy clutches some chalk and demands to know how to spell our names, which he then writes in the concrete floor. T starts to play soccer with the boys, and I spend my time with girls draped all over me.

The younger kids don’t look sick at all, for the most part. There are a couple of kids with molluscum (which look kind of like warts) or head fungus, but I would never be able to distinguish most of them from any other kids. They are just as adorable and boisterous as the other kids I have seen walking around, and they are immediately full of love. B has a special friend we’ll call The Belly, who is about 2, all stomach, and the happiest kid I have ever seen. On the other hand, M has a special friend who is the saddest, she tells me. He arrived at AHOPE a few months ago and is miserable. Ironically, his name means Happiness. The complex is separated from the road by a blue metal fence, and from outside, it looks pretty ramshackle. Inside, it is brightly colored, with murals of Disney characters on the walls and bunk beds in the three bedrooms.

Then we go to the older compound, which is where the kids older than seven live. There is a new basketball hoop installed, and the kids are going crazy for it. I ask Abebe which kid is the boy I sponsor, and he points him out and asks if I want to greet him. Then he sees that the boy is playing cards, so he tells me we will do it tomorrow.  T starts to join in the basketball with the boys and B, and they are soon crashing into each other and balls are flying everywhere.

M sits with the girls, playing a game that looks like jacks, but with rocks. She invites me to play, and so I sit with her and the two girls who are playing. The girls are very patient with me, but are clearly horrified by my ineptitude. One of the girls puts the rocks all together so I can easily grab them, and the other tries to stress to me that I need to throw the rocks higher. She stares at me intently, saying, Up! Up! repeatedly, and trying to demonstrate very, very slowly. Unfortunately, the stupid ferenge can’t get a handle on this game before it’s time to go, but I leave anyway, delirious with happiness at the cute kids and horror at my hideous uncoordination.