Day 3: There are palm trees outside my window, and it's winter.

1:45 p.m.

I woke up around 3:30 a.m. but decided that was far too early in the morning. I tried to go to sleep, but I had a pillow headache – the kind that means my head is tired of being on a pillow. I tossed and turned for about an hour before I picked up my computer to write. I was lonely, and the thought of home at 9:30 p.m. made me lonelier. It’s quiet in my room at night, and I missed the loud children at my house back home. I didn’t want to go home, but I wanted them there with me, annoying me, whining about something – anything.

I stayed up for about two hours and decided that I would probably awake in another 2 hours were I to go to bed now. That would mean it would be about six or seven in the morning, and that would be a nice wake up time.

But I actually didn’t wake up until 12:45 p.m. As I was picking out my outfit for the day, I saw Madison walking toward my apartment, and I waved at her. I met her at my door and let her in, and from there we went to our very American Wi-Fi café. This has become a ritual – only because we, all three of us, are highly addicted to the Internet. If we spend at least a day away from our computers, we will have withdrawals – we’ll froth at the mouth and become disoriented. We might throw up or pass out or scream in hysteria or run into walls. That kind of thing.

Thank God we found +27, the trendy, artsy café located just down the road. It’s a taste of home. But it’s something I hope to wean myself off of. Sitting here, in this café, I could be anywhere in the U.S. I’ll branch out. For now, though, this is the only way to have Internet access – and I can’t update you, my lovely followers, without it.

~|~

Within ten minutes of our arrival, I spotted an older black woman and five tiny black boys, dressed alike, except for one, following her. I waved at them through the window, and they waved back with bashful smiles before running inside after the woman. I was instantly in love. I WAS SO IN LOVE! If they weren’t with an adult, I would have stolen them all and taken them back home with me. Forever.

In a few minutes, they all entered the café. The woman, with a sagging but beautifully warm face, greeted us as she walked in. I smiled back at her and returned the greeting, which I also passed along to the five little boys. They were preciously shy; but they were heartwarming.

The woman told them in some other language to tell me hello and ask me how I was, and they did – in unison! I nearly fainted; the whole thing was altogether far too glorious a picture. This was the Africa I had been looking for. I answered them with a big smile, and I asked them how old they were. Each took turns answering to their age, holding up precious tiny fingers to display the information: one was four, one was five, another four, one six.

Can I take one home? I wanted to ask, but how could I ever take such little blessings away from someone else?! But I was in love! I was hooked! I would be so good to them, please, let me keep them! I would raise them to be such good little boy and young men. They had my heart from the first wave.

The woman gave us a flier and a sheet to sign. I read the beginning of the flier letter and realized that she was begging for money on behalf of the children. Only three people had signed the sheet and offered their money – of just R 40.00, 100.00 and 50.00 – which is something like $2.50, $7, and $3. I didn’t need to read any further, I passed the flier along to Madison who sat next to me.

I reached down to look in my wallet for cash. I had enough to pay for my drink and enough to give away. I took out R 120.00, wishing, though, that I could give them my whole entire collection of money. Madison gave R 40.00. We wrote our names on the sheet and our donation amount and handed the woman the money and papers.

She was so thankful, blessing us and telling her boys to thank us. In unison, as if rehearsed, they did and wished us a good day. My heart has been filled for the week.

I need to find an orphanage to visit while I’m here, or a school – or something. That’s crucial and essential.

Matt and I have decided to walk to the President's house. It's about two miles away. You just take Duncan St. all the way to Church St. and hang a left.

"Let's just do it tomorrow. Wake up around nine or ten and just go," I said.

"I'm so down. Let's do it," said Matt.

"Alright, we will."

"I'm so glad you're adventurous."

"Me too."

What a boring life you'll have if you're not. Tomorrow is Thursday, and since I'm doing something adventurous and out-of-the-ordinary, you should too. Even if you go somewhere you've never been for lunch -- just do something you don't normally do. And then tell me about it. I'll tell you all about my adventure, too.