Carry a Jerry

This morning, our family participated in the PCM Carry a Jerry races. We got to the park bright and early and watched Allen take off on the 5K run.

While he ran, the kids and I visited with the Ugandan kids who came for the choir tour. We were excited to learn that many of them live with Ssalli, but they are all in school with her. Maddie hid a bit when I introduced her to the kids (ages 10-13, I am guessing and remembering). One of the girls, Milly, asked me if Maddie was shy and I replied that she was a bit. Milly squatted to Maddie's level and they talked for a minute. After that, Maddie was on Milly's back until long after the first group of runner returned. Evelynne had Jon on her back for awhile, and I think my kids soon warmed up to the sweet children. Will was talking to 12-year old Amon for most of that time. The two boys were obviously having an interesting conversation -- soon they were laughing, and it was neat for me to watch from a bit of a distance. 

Allen finished his run in 6th place, and by the time he got back to us, the kids were scattered. Will was still with Amon, and Maddie was still on Milly's back as she wandered around meeting all the supporters. Jon and Ben were in a clearing to the side running toward each other and sword fighting with sticks or putting their foreheads together to see who could knock the other off balance.

Later, Will was telling me what he and Amon were talking about -- Ssalli, their homes and schools, the wild animals in Uganda. Will told me he had never met a person so happy, and that led to more conversations about how someone with so little stuff is so happy.

All the Ugandan children ran the next 5K which was a relay carrying the jerry -- a plastic 3-5 gallon jug of water that the Ugandans fill at the river and carry to their homes and schools to drink from. Not surprisingly, the Ugandans ran that race much faster than the Americans.

After that race, we listened to the choir sing a couple songs, then we began the family "race" (race that wasn't actually a race since it was more to let kids experience how hard it is to carry the water jugs.) Our Kaiser team of six had a great, fast start as Will hugged the 3 gallon can and ran. The little kids kept up, Allen already is used to running, but it wasn't long till I was behind struggling with shin splints. Allen ended up with the can next, and the kids raced ahead. The kids had a lot of energy for the first quarter mile, but they slowed down a bunch. Ben and Jon tried carrying the can together like the winning team from the last race, but they didn't last too long like that. Maddie couldn't carry it more than a few steps.

 Around the half way point, Ben was on my back because he was so tired. When I got tired of carrying him, I set him down and he raced to catch up with Maddie who was quite a bit ahead, but running with Jennifer's daughters. We later learned Ben went right past them. We lost our kid... for real this time, but I was calmed a bit by the fact that he had on the PCM shirt and I hoped the group would keep him where he was supposed to be. Later, we learned that as he got to the end of the race with a group, he turned and thought we were right there with him. Thankfully, my friend Kathryn saw him and went to get him and kept him until Allen found him. That was the most stressful part of the day for me, but I think I handled it okay. When we were home, I asked Ben if he had been scared. He said, "No. Just a little lonely."

After all the racing, we let the kids play in the park. Jon got to check out the Ugandan drums and even had a quick lesson from some of the boys. Will ended up playing soccer with some kids he knew from school and a couple Ugandan boys. They were using banana leaf balls, and it was clear that the Africans were much better at keeping the small ball at their feet, but Will enjoyed playing with them.

I enjoyed having an opportunity to introduce our kids to some of the children I will be visiting in June. I loved that all four had a chance to play and talk with the Ugandan children -- to realize that even though they look different and speak differently, they really have so much in common. I'm excited that the choir will be here for a few weeks and I hope we get to see them all some more. I get teary when I hear them sing -- their joy is infectious and I am so anxious to be among them in their home.