My African Saturday :)

  Another day passes and I am at home. Waking at about 8 A.M., I take in the beautiful light of the rising sun on my light pink curtains. A moment passes as I take in the still bedroom. When I step out my little door, I will walk into chaos. Not a negative kind of chaos, and I'm not really afraid of it. I'm just hesitant to leave the peaceful bedroom, because I know what's coming; two little girls clinging to my arms and crying out in broken English, "Kailey! Kailey, come look. Look at baby." They'll pull me past three preteen sisters talking, laughing, playing computer games and my dad just leaving to run errands and pick up my brother from a sleepover. My teenage sister will be in the kitchen, searching through our masses of food for something healthy to eat. My busy mom will be sorting through laundry, calling out our names to come and get our clothes and, Kailey, there are eggs on the stove if you want them. No thank you, I say, maybe later, at the same time that I trip over my little dog. I apologize and try to stroke his head quickly before the girls are again shouting, "Come, Kailey! Coooooo-muh!"


  Then finally, in the livingroom, they will gesture to our ten month old baby brother behind the couch in some awkward position in a basket that they put him in .... just so they could show me.


"Oh, that's very nice!" I respond with a smile, just before I rescue the confused baby and bounce him in my arms. Oh, shoot.


  The toddler has my cell phone.  I shout and dive to take it from her. I check the phone and breath a sigh of relief. My three year old sister hasn't called anyone today. Where did she get it anyway? I marvel for a few seconds at how ironic it is that my half-deaf sister seems to be in love with cell phones.


  I have dog duty today. All of us have chores that switch each day of the week, one day sweeping, one day putting the kids' toys and books away, another day cleaning bathrooms. Except for me; practically every day I have dog duty. That means I start my morning by feeding the dogs and refilling their water bowl. We, by the way, have two galumphing, enthusiastic, hundred-plus pounds german shepherds with an uncontrolable appetite. Next to them my fifteen -year-old sister has a doschund and I have a spotted jack russel. It's a miracle the monstrous dogs haven't swallowed our lap dogs whole.


  This is a normal Saturday morning for me; I wake to the warm African sun, I hang out in my room for about an hour, then I venture out to the jungle of my twelve member family - more than twelve if you include the young lady staying in our flat. And the four dogs mentioned above. And the many little pets that run through our yard and the people that visit every day who might as well be family.


  I leave my bedroom and things go almost exactly I would have guessed, except that two ladies and an infant are here to visit, adding to the number. The house is surprisingly quiet for a busy Saturday morning, but I could blame that mostly on my absent brother (still at the friends' house).


  What will I do today?


  It's hard to plan my Saturdays here in my little town of Otjiwarango. There's so much I should or could do, but Africa surprises you. A friend could come over unexpectedly, my parents might have to leave suddenly (which means I have to watch the siblings), or we'll end up with a new critter in our yard that I absolutely HAVE to examine, take pictures of, hold.


  I think, through it all, regardless of what may come my way, I will find time to dance.


 Dance is what makes life light and breathable, but keeps me grounded in who I am. It is the flavour of the ruddy Namibian earth that I spin over. It is giving thanks to God for the life coursing through my veins, my beating heart, and the muscles that I care for with every stretching, twisting, stomping, twirling step I take. Dance is a breath of pretty pink in a very, very dark world.


  Dance is exactly who I am. Dance is what the baby laughs at, and the toddler does her best to mimick and my other sisters and brother check in on every once and a while, just to make sure I'm still dancing. To make sure I'm still me and be certain that I still hope.


I love dance, nearly as much as I love all of them.

Love,

 Kailey Brooke Graham