We walked to the center, dressed in our matching chitenges with our “asis” (sister) Diana and before we got to the door, Mama came out to say they needed time.  We walked a couple of feet away and a few moments later, all of the women came outside, dancing and singing while making their way over to us to escort us inside.  While we didn’t understand all the words to the song they sang, we did make out the words arendo, which means visitor, Joanna and Deena.  With arms stretched out wide, a gesture of the most generous offering, these women embraced us.  This, we learned, is the customary way to treat arendos who are always “most welcomed” and invited into their world.  Though it was similar to how we were welcomed on our first day in the village, it felt different this time.  Six weeks ago we watched and tried, as best as we could, to follow the women’s lead.  This time, we got right in there with them, dancing in their circle without hesitation. Their ceremony was even more powerful and meaningful once we had become a part of this community and once the women’s faces were no longer foreign but rather people we lived and worked with so closely.  This time, I didn’t feel like an arendo.  I felt like a part of their community.

After several songs, the function officially began.  Chairs were set up in the front for us, positioned right beside the chiefs.  Elaine, who doubles as both a nursery school teacher and the secretary of the CBO, facilitated the program.  We watched Mama act out a comedy with one of her friends and lead Tiyambe Nawo’s choir through several beautiful songs, sung it seemed, with a natural harmony.  I caught most of them on my little hand held video camera so that I can always go back to re-watch this to remind myself of the culture so rich with customs, made up of people so proud of who they are and where they come from.

Then people spoke.  Deena and I addressed the group, gushing with gratitude for our time there, in a place that quickly felt like home with people who made the experience so rich for us.  Chief Mkongamira made special mention of how special it was for him and his villagers that we openly greeted everyone we passed.  We “didn’t discriminate” and were loving and friendly to everyone, he said.  And for many, this was their first experience shaking hands with an azungo.  From the moment I arrived, it was so important to me to form relationships with the people we’d meet, so that our intentions were clear, and we didn’t appear to be foreigners judging what they do, but rather, two people from a different corner of the world eager to live with our neighbors, helping and empowering them to teach more effectively.

Papa also spoke.  He is one of the most sensitive, heart-felt men I know.  With a soft-spoken, gentle voice, he isn’t afraid to wears his emotions.  He expressed what a joy it was to have us in his home and how sad he feels that our time has come to an end.  He’s told us before that even a year wouldn’t have been long enough, six weeks felt like 6 hours.  When several of the other men who spoke, they shared an apology, knowing that their CBO has made mistakes, but explaining that nothing they did was intentional and they hope to continue to improve.  I wanted to tell them that for me, despite the seemingly insurmountable problems they face, they made this experience perfect.  There is much more to do, but I was so taken by their honesty and humble way.  And what I do know is that nothing about my time in this village, despite these challenges, was unpleasant, thanks to the people who surrounded me.