The Muslim holiday has finally arrived, though we dont know what it is or what it’s for. What we do know is that it would happen either on Wednesday or Thursday, depending on the moon. It comes on Thursday, and the big kids have the day off from school. Because they have no school, we take a field trip to the Ghion Hotel pool. Yidnicacho comes to pick us up in the red van, full of kids. They run around the house for a while, and then we all get in. Me, T, M, B, Yidni and 18 children.

I spend most of the time at the pool pulling the girls around by their arms so they can float and kick. None of the kids really knows how so swim, but we’re all in the shallow end, so it doesn’t really matter. I drag the girls around, trying to avoid all the other swimmers, who all seem to be in the shallow end. Eventually, they get bored and my legs start to hurt from squatting down to stay in the water. Then, they all get cold.

We are all sitting against the wall, me and about five little girls, and they can’t stay warm: partly because they aren’t moving anymore, and partly because they are far skinnier than I am and don’t have that useful fat to keep them from freezing. M is huddled with another bunch of kids against another wall, and I bring the girls over there, where we find a hot water spout. One boy especially is freezing, and eventually he gets so cold that I call T over to bring him to the men’s showers, which have hot water. He stays there for about an hour.

In the meantime, one of the older boys is stealthily swimming around and dunking me, M and B. He sneaks up behind us, grabs our legs and drags us into the middle of the pool, where he pulls us underwater. B handles this the best, standing in the middle of the pool, throwing kids around. The boys jump on her back and try to dunk her, and she rears back up, roaring at them. One of the little girls with me leans over and says, B is crazy! I laugh and nod, watching the boys’ delight and wondering what the locals think of these white girls with all these kids.

And speaking of white girls with strange kids, I notice a boy sitting further down the wall from me. I ask the girl in my lap, MIss Congeniality, what his name is. I don’t know, she says, shrugging her shoulders. Huh. So maybe he’s not with us, I think, feeling better about the fact that I have been snuggling all the AHOPE kids and have completely ignored this boy. But then she starts speaking to him and tells me his name is Itzak. So then I am completely confused. I ask him if he lives at AHOPE. He says yes, and the guilt kicks in. I tell him to come sit next to me, next to the spout, and he does. I rub his arm to warm him up, but feel funny about hugging him, since I am still not sure if he’s one of our kids, and I don’t want to look like some creepy ferenge, molesting the Ethiopian children. Then, Miss Congeniality looks at me and says bacca, which roughly translates to enough, I’m done, get me out of this pool now. I turn, and all the girls are decamping to the shower. I turn to Itzak and tell him were gettng out and going to the shower. He says, me? No, I tell him. Well, unless you want to. It’s up to you. And I get out of the pool, with him still sitting there by the spout, all alone.

Later I discover that, of course, he is not one of our kids, and I am just a fool. Thank God I didn’t hug him.

My humiliation at being a stupid ferenge is mitigated only by one thing. B is completely addicted to Mama’s milk, an Ethiopian milk that comes in a plastic bag. She drinks it ice cold, straight from the store, with the bag hanging out of her mouth as if she is actually suckling from a teat. We tease her about it until T and I try it, and it is completely delicious. After the pool, T and I walk around the corner to buy some. On our way out, we ask our guard Eyob if he would like some. He would, and so we come back with a bag for him. When I give it to him, he gives me the Ethiopian chest bump greeting and tells me, Thank you, sister. I spend all night crowing. I am Eyob’s sister! I may not know our kids and may be a weird ferenge but I am Eyob’s sister, and that makes it all okay.