(Sam) 50 precious lives!

Last week we finally had the most immense privilege of visiting all the girls in their homes, to deliver their personal invite to the project. We finished the last few yesterday and are filled with such a sense of joy and anticipation.

On arriving back from the visits (we had been through so many houses in such a short space of time), my mind was a flood of images...

each girl is so unique and beautiful, and in every hardened or downcast expression we could see the creases of a reluctant but irrepressible smile breaking through when they heard that they had been 'chosen' to be part of the project. It was such a privilege to be there at that moment, to be sharing the news that there is an opportunity for something different, an alternative for the future.

There were quite a few girls who Rita had so wanted to invite before it was too late, but who we now realised were already pregnant. One beautiful but very tough young girl was playing football in the street when we called her. She came over with a really hard and mistrusting face but then produced the most amazing smile when she thought of the idea of being part of the project, having her hair done, learning guitar...Even though she already has a baby (who is fortunately being looked after by family), she's only 13 and she really needs this chance that Meninadança will offer her, to be a child again herself.

The invites were absolutely perfect even for the older, tougher girls. Their eyes widened and cheeks softened as the pink girly picture with their name on the front inspired the beginnings of a belief that they may in fact be worth something....wow...hope is the most beautiful concept and this week we saw tangible glimpses of it in the most unlikely, seemingly impossible situations.

At one point, as we walked out of yet another house with Rita, we realised that we were all grinning from ear to ear! and just couldn't stop smiling and laughing...Rita had been so frustrated because in the face of such need we had to limit the number of girls to 50; but today she said that it had suddenly hit her in a different way when chatting with a friend that we were going to be involved in the lives of Fifty young women and girls and their families, speaking of hope and transformation to those who most desperately need it. Seeing the difference that some conversations have already made in how the girls look ahead, we believe that God really is going to bring that transformation here in Medina.

(Sam) Budding photographers!

It's been great having Vicki, a teacher from the UK, volunteering with us during this set-up phase. One of her passions is photography and so this Sunday we met up with two of the girls to give them an introductory lesson! Vicki showed them the basics and then we wandered through the countryside outside the town with the two girls pointing and shooting as they went!

One of Vicki’s aims was for them to see their town through different eyes, since both of them have seriously considered leaving for various reasons. It was amazing by the end of our walk to hear them actually noticing the beauty around them, and realising that there is life here outside of what they have experienced so far. It's so good for them to know that there is another perspective on the same reality, one which is so much more filled with life and hope.

One funny moment was when one of the girls looked at the ground and screamed, and out of fear I ran and jumped into the air, landing straight onto the thing they’d been screaming about – a big hairy tarantula! It didn’t bite me, but it was huge! We filmed one later and then a woman came and beat it to death with a stick…it’s not just us who don’t like them!

Medina!

A couple of weeks ago we climbed one of the hills around the town with two friends, and sat at the top for so long with the hot wind in our faces, not quite believing that this is where we have landed! We're so so thankful for being in this beautiful place.

I may have convinced Claire that it was only a 15 minute walk to the top! haha...she was not too pleased an hour and 15 minutes later when we got to the top with no water around for miles! But the beautiful sunset was definitely worth it. 

(Claire) Cry, The Beloved Country

Last night my heart broke as I read this paragraph in Alan Paton’s Cry, The Beloved Country. He paints a devastating picture of what can happen when oppression has ruled a people, and how from that point on fear robs you of the ability to hope. Though he’s writing about South Africa, I was struck by how many of the girls here in Medina experience this same isolation, and could relate to these painful words:

“Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child that is the inheritor of our fear. Let him not love the earth too deeply. Let him not laugh too gladly when the water runs through his fingers, nor stand too silent when the setting sun makes red the veld with fire. Let him not be too moved when the birds of his land are singing, nor give too much of his heart to a mountain or a valley. For fear will rob him of all if he gives too much.”

With their stories of abuse, violence, rejection and exploitation there are really only two ways to go: to die, or to choose never again to hope, to love, to dream, to believe – close up their hearts to all that surrounds them, hold it in their hands and run, far away. Smile, but not in their eyes, laugh, but not from their hearts. Nothing can hurt them any more, but behind the smiles are hurting eyes, wondering if anyone really ‘sees’ their pain.

Every moment with these girls is an incredible privilege. My prayer is that over time, I imagine years rather than months, there will be no need to hide, no need to run away. That through a process of being loved for who they are, every girl would feel safe to hope, to be free again to open her heart to the beauty of the world around her, and to believe that there is a reason to dance. I pray that the devastation of Paton’s words would be transformed for the girls into something like this:

“Dance, beloved daughters, for the unborn child that is the inheritor of your hope. Let her love the  earth deeply. Let her laugh gladly when the water runs through her fingers, stand silent when the sun makes red the veld with fire. Let her be moved when the birds of her land are singing, and give her heart to the mountain and the valley. For fear will not rob her if she gives of her heart.”

Meeting the girls

(Sam)
Since the elections are now over, Rita has had a lot more time and we've been able to talk a lot more about how to reach girls, which girls, and how the house will be structured etc. We have started visiting a few, which has been a real privilege but also heart-wrenching, meeting the girls themselves who are the faces of the stories we've heard. For each one it seems impossible that someone so young could have already lived through so much.

A fifteen-year old that we've spent quite a bit of time with, and wrote about in the last group email has now disappeared again, moving up and down the nearby towns along the motorway and staying with friends or anywhere she can find. Her family is distraught and desperately wants her to get out of this town and get help. We're waiting for her to appear again before talking through the possibilities with her. Please pray that she can believe just a tiny bit in the possibility of hope for her future and make the choice to get out...also that we can actually find somewhere that will truly provide all that she needs to be healed from past traumas and start to build a new life.

We met up with another younger teenager tonight and it was such a privilege to sit with her - she really is a very special one, has huge potential and an extremely likeable character! As I said before, it is beyond my imagination to link this lovely girl with all that we've heard she's been through already at her young age, and the way that she lives at the moment. We met the whole family, quite a mixed bunch, and then sat for a while teaching her a few chords on the guitar - it was great watching the transformation from frustration and lack of concentration to then being so chuffed once she persevered and learnt three all at once. My next task is to research her favourite artist so that I can teach her an actual song next time! It's going to be a funny moment!

While Rita is at work in the mornings at the Children's Council we have been given the go ahead to decorate and kit out the whole of the Pink House. The last few weeks have been quite a mix - frustration with the time it takes and the tedium or roundabout ways of getting things done!but also amazing to see things really coming together now...I think probably by the end of this week nearly everything will be in place. We've had Rita's nephew Washington helping us out, and here are some of the photos of the work in progress...

Claire in the hair salon

Sam painting the lounge

Washington fixing the TV in the dance room

How Not To Paint Your Wall (our house, not the pink house!)

                                                 Step 1: Mix your paint (cast your spells?!)

                                         
                                           Step 2: Test your colours (with much deliberation)

                                             Step 3: Spill half of your precisely-mixed paint

                                 Step 4: Paint the wrong wall (it was meant to be the one on the left!)

Whilst Seated On The Comode

(Claire)

I know that we’ve not yet written much on the blog about the work that we’re doing here! We’ve realised that it’s going to take time to work out how much we can say about the girls, the town and the development of the project... There are lots of different factors to take into account which make writing honestly seem a bit of a minefield! One factor is that all of the girls here have access to the internet and so could easily google translate what’s being said…as could anyone else in this small town where everybody knows everybody. Identifying a girl wouldn’t take long with a bit of description about where she lives and her family. The police, politicians and anyone else who’s interested to know what’s being said and exposed about their town would also have access to read what’s written. And so, we're working out bit by bit how to get into a rhythm of writing in a way that protects both the girls and our team, whilst being honest and sharing what’s really happening…

There have been lots of challenges over the last couple of weeks, on all fronts! However, in the midst of that the Pink House is receiving it's final touches with lots of colourful (pink!!!) walls and pink cushions! (Photos to follow soon!) We’ve been praying that we would have opportunities to meet the girls who are most caught up in exploitation and are most in need, and in response to that we’ve had two awesome times of ‘bumping into’ girls around town who we highly suspect are involved and are friends with Leticia… they’re all really interested in the project, and we’re going to see if we can start visiting them more over the next few weeks. We’re going to be spending our Saturday nights on the streets to give more opportunity to meet girls, and are really enjoying time spent with Leticia :) Last time we were in her house I made one of those snap-decisions to sit on an old rusty commode that she had in the garden… I didn’t make the link between the ailing grandmother and the comode – or perhaps I did but the beaming invitation of a seat in the hot sun was too much to resist. After about two minutes of swinging my legs (it was taller than I expected!) and chatting to Leticia I started to notice a wet sensation on the top of my right leg… I was determined to remain neutral in my facial expressions as I realised that the commode was very much still active, and had hidden its urinary gems within the plastic seat - to the dismay of any unsuspecting passer by needing a sit down! Next time I'll go for the reliable floor option...