sights from the road...: Bath time, swim time, and what's in a name?

Bath time for babies was a trial-and-error learning process for me. Not because bathing a baby is difficult- I actually don't even bathe the babies here. Bath time for babies is like a ten-step procedure...

1. Bring every baby from their bedroom into the bathroom.

(Bathroom has three changing counters and four sinks especially for bathing babies.)

2. Lay babies down on a blanket on the floor.

3. Undress baby number one and remove diaper.

4. While undressing baby number two and on down the line, the nanny is bathing baby number one.

5. Hopefully finish undressing in time to hold out a dry towel in which to receive baby number one.

6. Dry baby number one.

7. Lotion baby number one from head to toe.

8. Diaper and dress baby number one.

9. Bring baby number one to play room.

10. Hopefully report back to bathroom in time to hold out a dry towel in which to receive baby number two.

The reality, though, is that while I was undressing baby number six, babies numbers one through five are all like piled on the changing counter waiting to be dried, lotioned, dressed, and carried to the play room. (Okay, I exaggerate... a bit.)

I'm used to talking to Baby while I dry him, singing about the lotion going on his arms, and playing "This Little Piggy" while I dress him.

The nanny is used to winning world-wide competitions for the fastest baby-bathing.

I'm proud to admit, I've finally caught up with her, and we can win said competitions together.

****

On Wednesday, my computer took a swim.

I knew I needed to reload internet onto my modem, so I brought both the modem and my computer with me in my backpack to work that day. During our lunch break, Whitney and I walked to Garden City (the mall) to the Orange Store (internet service center) to see about getting internet, maybe grabbing some lunch if we had enough time.

It was perfect. The sales associate helped me to find a package that would provide enough internet for my remaining four months here without paying an arm and a leg, even rolling over the leftover gigs I hadn't yet used from my last purchase.

Sure enough, we had enough time to grab a sandwich before we headed back to work. We sat down, excited to find a cheap tuna sandwich- tuna is not cheap here- and I pulled out my backpack to check my phone. I noticed that my backpack left a wet spot on my trousers, so immediately I looked inside to see where it was coming from.

My water bottle had come unscrewed somehow, and everything in my bag was soaked, including both my computer and my internet modem.

I was devastated.

A few blog posts ago, I wrote that I had a situation that was so crazy that you had to either laugh or cry. In that instance, I laughed. But faced with the possibility that I wouldn't have communication with my friends and family back home, plus losing all my pictures and music and all my writing?!

I cried.

I called my supervisor and told her what happened, and she let me have a little extra time to take my computer home and put it in rice. I prayed the whole walk home and the whole walk back.

When I returned to work, Jesus knew exactly how to take my mind off the situation. Colors, markers, paper and stickers were scattered across the playroom floor, and all the other volunteers were drawing birthday cards for the nannies who have birthdays this month. Then once my babies woke up, we dressed up our girls with pretty headbands and the nanny I work with- Genevieve- and I joked all afternoon.

I got home and prayed again over my computer, and I'm excited to tell you that I'm typing this blog from a fully-functional computer! My God is so good. He cares about details, and He knows how I need this computer both to communicate with everyone at home and to store so much writing, music and pictures that I don't want to lose. He knows, and He is so faithful.

****

No one here is named Robin. That's just not a name here. Therefore, several of the nannies call me "Robinah," which is a name here, pronounced:

"RO (like 'road') bin (like 'bean') a (like 'uh')"

(If the above pronunciation guide makes any sense at all to you, give yourself a high-five.)

Yesterday, Whitney and I went to church to watch the Watoto choir practice their upcoming "Beautiful Africa" tour. It was amazing, especially since I've never seen their choir perform. The choir is made up of children from the Watoto villages in Suubi, Bbira, and Gulu, ranging in age from seven to twelve or thirteen. The children sing worship songs, dance in traditional costume, and tell the story both of Watoto and of God's Sovereign hand upon each of their lives.

It was especially moving to hear a few of the older girls tell their stories. Although their stories were different, they were alike in that both girls had lost their parents at a young age, both girls grew up in the care of other relatives who couldn't afford them, and both were brought to Watoto within the last two years.

And both of them had tears rolling down their faces as they told their stories.

Heart broken.

After the practice, we got to meet the children and talk with them and take pictures with them.

"What's your name?" I asked a little girl, probably eight years old.

"Robinah," she said, smiling shyly.

"That's my name, too!"

I mean, well, sorta.