Editor’s note: Mocha Club member and volunteer, Annie, is blogging from Cape Town, South Africa on the Mocha Club trip from May 28th-June 10th. This is our first official “trip blogger” so please help us spread the word and check back for updates!
It’s really challenging to sum up a weekend retreat with 70 kids from a local township (kind of like a slum), 10 counselors, and 10 Americans (who don’t know exactly how to run a kids retreat).
So let me begin like this – I think it will get the blog-a-rific juices flowing. Here are some keywords from our weekend:
70 kids.
Baloney.
Laughter.
Hot dogs.
Beautiful singing.
Sunshine.
Xhosa. (The language they speak. The language we don’t speak. A wee bit challenging.)
Dancing.
Sports.
Baloney.
Oh wait. Did I already mention baloney? The kind of baloney that comes in one big log that we have to shred ourselves. A log the size of a kid. And we went through four logs. Because I’m pretty sure we served it every meal. On buttered bread. And the kids loved that junk. I mean, LUH-HUVED it. Like, 2 sandwiches at lunch kind of loved it.
We, on the other hand, not so much. But we served it. Betsy called it a “yule-log of baloney”. Minus the holiday joy.
If there is one thing that kept us going over the weekend, besides the nutritional blessing that is baloney, it was the constant opportunity to be smiling or laughing.
Because of those kids.
I don’t know how to describe the children. The right words aren’t coming to my mind. Cute? Sure. They were. But it was deeper than that. Sweet? Absolutely. But it was a deeper sweet than what we are used to in the States. It was this deepness of spirit and soul that may only be found in Africa. Smart? Giving? Kind? Loving? Accepting? Yes. They love each other, care for each other, and still had space in their kid-sized hearts for us.
They were awesome. They could not have been more grateful for the opportunity to go on a retreat. Many of them don’t get three full meals a day and we provided that, with the side of a baloney sandwich, and fruit throughout the day. Many of them don’t have adults that have the time to sit beside them and hear their stories, but we did, even if it was in broken English. We sat. We played. We danced. We sang. We hugged. And hugged. And hugged.
Was the weekend exhausting? For certain. It was all sorts of amazing, but it was all sorts of tiring as well. It’s hard to love and 
control and entertain that many children, while washing all 90 dishes and cups and silverware by hand after every meal.
So today we are tired. But it’s that happy tired. The peaceful tired. That tired that comes with the knowledge that maybe we packed our suitcases, flew across the ocean, and landed in South Africa just to see those faces. Hold those hands. Fill those bellies.
I’ve said thanks to Barrett about a hundred times for this trip. For Mocha Club. For what they do. For how they help. But I wanted to stand on the top of the monkey bars at the campground and scream in the general direction of Nashville. While children played chase with Andrew and Adria, made instruments with Ernie and Quinn, while Betsy and Marisa made another round of baloney sandwiches, while Ellie taught the kids to make bracelets, and while Emily and Darci did arts and crafts.
I wanted to stand there. And yell to Barrett. And to you. And to your $7.
And say thank you.
