We just got home from the best day we have experienced since arriving in Kitale.  We threw a party at the boy's home, ate African food, danced and sang, and played a wicked volleyball game, even beating one team, and making a good showing with the other.  Lori May whacked me in the nose with the volleyball, but it was worth it.  What's a black eye or two in the name of fun. 

We were over an hour and a half late, and when we arrived, the boys were all sitting in a circle, outside, and waiting for us.  Apparently, they had just asked if we were really coming.  I'm sure they knew what we were bringing, and they were so excited. 

So, right away, the volleyball net went up and a game between the boys and the adults started.
The guys that work for Missions for Orphans were nearby, so I strolled over to give them a lollypop.  I asked if they were going to play volleyball, and Bimo (Big Moses) very politely said, "No Mama, we were not invited."
I can't tell you what I felt like.  It was a bit like disappointment, but a lot of anger. 
One of the good things about being an older muzungu woman is that I have a bit of clout when it comes to these things, and as I walked away, I said that I would see about that. 

Pastor Sammy was playing volleyball, and I stood between him and the man behind him, sort of stopping the game.  Then I asked if the workers could play, and he said he had not invited them.  I could feel my eyebrow going up, and there was no way to stop it.  It had a life of it's own.  I quietly said that we didn't have to feed them, but I certainly wanted them to play volleyball.  His answer was that he would think about it.

And I thought I was mad before that.

So, if all fails, get your husband involved.  By this time, I was so mad, I was ready to cry, (thanks again, Aunt Ethel), and caught up with Coney, repeating the conversation.  I was in tear mode now, and I knew Coney would respond simply because he knew it should be done more politely than I could accomplish. 
Sure enough, the men were invited over.  And another game began.  It was a blast, and they all had so much fun. Lunch was served after the muzungu team beat the workers, and it was a wonderful day.  Everyone was happy, and Bimo told me it was a day he would not forget.

But, there was still more.  We passed out the clothes the team brought, donated by our church.  Each boy was given an outfit, with both long pants and shorts.  Bobba John's girls received dresses, along with his wife.  The boy I was standing by said, "Thank you for hearing our prayers". And Aunt Ethel returned with a vengence.

Jeremy, our drummer at church, bought pails and drumsticks and started drumming, showing some of the boys how to do it.  The dancing started, and then the singing, and Pastor Coney Orosco was shaking his "booty" in some kind of a conga line.  Oh my gosh, it was hysterical!  I laughed so hard I was crying!  And the boys!  They were beaming.  I doubt they had ever had that much fun, nor felt that much love.  It was the "bestest" day ever!

And tomorrow, we are doing it again, only with hot dogs.  And ice cream. 

I will let you know how it goes.   Looking forward to it,