My Pretty Rachael

I have the best friends here.

I came to Tanga again because I received news that the orphanage was closing and all those little girls would be left to find a new path of their own – some with futures more uncertain than others. I came armed with determination, pencil crayons, a bag of skittles, an open mind, thread for friendship bracelets, petty cash to buy sodas and cheap t-shirts at the market, and lots of free time to spend with these girls. I'm starting to wonder though, if I’ll be taking away just as much or more for myself than what little I’ve brought to help these girls.

On market day, after shopping in the scorching midday sun, we stopped at a makeshift concession stand (actually a converted cargo container along the side of the road) for a soda and a bit of shade. I ordered a couple Coca Colas, a couple orange Fantas for the four girls and a Stoney Tangawizi for myself. While we sat around, the girls chatted to each other quickly about clothes they liked, the best sandals to get and what not, while I struggled to follow along with their quick Kiswahili. I tried to keep up by asking about the prices of clothes at the market, and then commented on Rachael’s T-shirt - just an ordinary green, fitted T-shirt with a floral design that I might have bought if I saw it in a store.
“Napenda Sana Tisheti Yako. Ni nzuri sana” – I really like your T-shirt. It’s very pretty.
Rachael blushed and giggled behind her orange fanta bottle.
“Ah! Senk you very much, Sister Kaitlin.”

Today, once I reached the gate of my house with Saumu and Asia, at the end of our day together, Saumu pulled a small black plastic bag out of her broken and raggedy-looking backpack.
“Zawadi yako kutoka dada Rachael” – A gift for you from Sister Rachael. I pulled out a handmade card, decorated with flowers, henna patterns and hearts, and read it:
I love you so much sister Kaitlin.
To my lovely Sister Kaitlin
From your Petty Rachael.
I’m sure she meant Pretty because this thoughtful and beautiful 13-year old girl certainly isn’t petty.

Inside the black plastic bag and a layer of crumpled newspaper was Rachael’s green T-shirt, the one I said I liked yesterday.