“Welcome to Zimbabwe!”

              As it is the culture to shake hands in Zimbabwe, I think it would be safe to say that I have shaken over 100 hands. Everywhere I go I’m being offered a hand, buy groceries shake five; check email two; a short walk six. Everyone wants to know your name and “how are you?” (I am fine.) The people in Zimbabwe have more of a social atmosphere and they don’t judge if your shirt matches your shoes, or if you wear any shoes at all. Not like I’m complaining!                             

               One evening while my mom was helping one of the kids with math, I was sitting. Well, actually, I was technically helping, too, but that was only like every ten minutes. In the middle of my boredom, I was handed a baby to hold (that’s what I did, at least). The poor kid was terrified by this strange new “marungu” (white man or me). Miriam, the baby, to this day is known to burst into tears when she finds herself being handed into my arms, although lately she allowed some extra inches to be sucked out of her personal bubble. After Miriam’s possibly traumatic experience, I got a cool new do. Cornrows! Thankfully, the girls only did part of my hair because I don’t know if I would be ready to do something so drastic. I actually kind of enjoyed them for the few days they stayed!

               Our trip has had its ups and downs, but they have all happened for a reason even if I do not see their purpose…yet. ‘“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:9 

   

Me with a new do :)

I tried to take a picture of my dad talking to the kids,

but they saw me so it turned a little differently!