The football story

So to follow up on the last post. I did go to play some soccer and it was absolutely wicked. The sun was setting and the sky was amber, and there were guys playing football in the golden hour. We divided the children randomly into the blue and the orange team, but somehow all the elder kids turned up to be in orange. We had two volunteers who could play decent football – Adrian and Luke – in the blue and orange team respectively. I was in the blue team, with a little kid who stretched out a lot to put his hand on my shoulder and walk around like buddies. I was sure we would lose, but there came Marshall. He is this guy who helps us with the running club and football club, which is really sweet of him. He got into blue and honest to God, only Adrian and Marshall played and we won. But, since I’m a narcissist, I must narrate from my perspective. For most part, I was with Lara and the kids, giving them piggy rides and letting them play with my hair. But I was also on the field, and it was getting intense. Before I knew it, the ball came to me from Luke at a speed and my reaction was, miraculously, to pass it to Marshall. Touched football for the first time in years and did a marvellous job. I’m a prodigy, you guys.

A handful of the kids in the neighbourhood who turn up to play football

After some more running, a few goals, and us ultimately winning, we finally left for Sunbird. From there, of course, we went to Olgas, which is known for its pizzas. I kid you not, I was so happy to finally have junk food that I didn’t mind the blistered feet. It wasn’t the best pizza I’ve had, but it was the general environment that I fell in love with. I had Heineken, and it was so bad I gave half of it away. I also pledged to never, ever have beers again. Siders are just my thing, it seems. However, somewhere in the night, I was hit with a feeling. It was a sense of loss and regret, for I knew I was so close to someone I loved but yet farther than I possibly could be. This trip was everything I wanted, and yet I missed that one person. Oh, cruel love. I even skipped on ice cream, and that should explain how low I suddenly felt.

Anyhoo, lets get back to stuff that should matter and be talked about instead of heartbreak. A girl in my placement suffers from a learning disability, and there’s a general consensus that it might be dyslexia. There is no mental health practitioner around, so we have to help her ourselves. I got a few tests and am researching on the kind of material and programs that could help her. I may have to send some over to Zambia when I do get back to India, and it will be tricky to continue helping her. But she’s so eager to learn, and needs help so desperately, that I just cannot give up. There must be some way, some one who can help me to get her the needed attention. So, this is also a call out to anyone who thinks they have ideas or may know someone who can help. It’s not only about monetary help, but also about the logistics and ideas. We certainly need those, and soon.

In other news, I blew about $20 today because I forgot to sign up for lunch, which should be a lesson for me. I had more pizza, of course, but this time it was delicious. Also, got WiFi. But if I am to get out of here without being broke, I need to be conscious of my expenses. Health wise, I doubt the pizza will harm me, considering the 20k steps per day record we have currently. My legs might just crumble at this very moment. But tomorrow, we might go in a cab, for we have around six bags to carry 7 kilometres outside the town, which really is a challenge with blistered and sore feet for one person and sun burns for the other. Yay, finally no dying in the heat at 12 in the noon.

It’s not even late, but I am so tired that I might hit the sack now. Also for the people who have been telling me to be safe because apparently there’s a fire in Kenya, you guys really should have paid attention in geography class.


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