Our Thirteen Year Old Bodyguard
One of the joys of living in my neighborhood are the children. They are phenomenal! We spend lots of time playing and chatting (or trying to) together. By far, one of my favorite kids is Jean Pierre. Whenever you see Jean Pierre he is always in the same green sweater and khacki shorts. He lives with his dad in a tiny two room house in our neighborhood. They have a tough life yet we usually hear Jean Pierre before we even see him because he’s singing…either to us or just singing in general. Sometimes he sings a little “Rebecca, Karine” song when he sees us because he’s happy to see us that day.
Jean Pierre is the consummate gentleman who always wants to take care of Rebecca and me. He had us over to visit the other day and sitting on the table in his house were two cokes. He and his dad barely eke out a living yet he bought us cokes. Pretty humbling. He also takes pleasure in being our “protector”. Tonight we met him on our road and he walked us partway back to our house.
He’s also great at crowd control. He shoos the kids from our courtyard when we want them to leave and always stays behind after art club to help clean up. When we were on our visit last week we told him in a mixture of expert French (Becky’s) and rudimentary Kinyarwanda (mine) that we really appreciate that unlike the other children he’s not always saying to us, “Ndashaka” which means I want. Most of the other children every time they see us tell us they want a balloon, or candy, or a piece of chalk or cookies (all things we’ve been known to give them from time to time.) Not Jean Pierre. He’s never asked us for anything…except to spend time with us. Last Thursday the kids were in playing in our courtyard. When it was time to leave they all were shaking our hands and Jean Pierre was staying behind making sure that they left. One little girl as she was leaving said, “Ndashaka imipiriso” which means, “I want a balloon.” Jean Pierre said in his sternest voice, “Oya ndashaka” (No, I want!) “Murakose” (say thank you.) It was absolutely priceless!
I’m sure you can understand why Jean Pierre is one of my most favorite children!
Juck, Juck, Juice and Simon Says
Last Thursday we had some of the children in to play games in our courtyard. I decided to teach them how to play Duck, Duck Goose. All was going well except for the fact that the kids couldn’t say Duck, Duck Goose very well. Instead it came out sounding like, “Juck, Juck, Juice.” Too cute!
Then when “Juck, Juck, Juice” got a little too rough I decided to teach them how to play Simon Says. I tried to explain in my best Kinyarwanda that they were only supposed to do what I told them when I said, “Simon Says.” So we began. I said, “Simon says touch your head. Simon says touch your shoulder, Simon says touch your knees. Touch your head.” And wouldn’t you know, every kid touched their head. So I explained, “No, no, don’t do the action when I don’t say “Simon Says,”.
“Ohhhh,” the kids all responded in unison.
Then we began again. “Simon says touch your ears, Simon says touch your eyes, Simon says touch your nose, touch your mouth.” Again, every single kid touched their mouth. “No, no,” I explained. “Simon didn’t say to touch your mouth.”
“Ohhh,” the kids all responded in unison. “Simon didn’t say.”
“Surely,” I thought. “They can’t get it wrong a third time.” “Simon says touch your elbows, Simon says jump up and down, Simon says hop on one foot. Turn around.” And again, every single kid turned around.
“No, no, no, Simon didn’t say,” I explained yet again.
“Ohhh,” came the kids united response.
I finally gave up!
