Saturday, April 17
In the morning we visited a local school where some of the former street boys are now studying. One boy, for example, is 14 but is in a class with 11-year-olds. He feels foolish, but he isn't. He is a good lad on the road to full rehabilitation from the street.
After the school it is time to find myself a bike. After 3 hours of fun and games I purchase my bicycle for the trip. He is called Mr. Mombasa. He cost 5500 Kenyan Schillings (about 45 pounds). He was made in China and needs to last me to South Africa.
Later some of the Dutch girls working in Mombasa took us to the Dickson Children's orphanage where they work. It was supposed to be Maartje's last day in Kenya but a certain volcano in Iceland meant that she couldn't get home.
We met around half a dozen young Dutch girls who are volunteering in Mombasa. Their lives are not easy. They are doing a lot of good and I would call them angels.
The 60,000 orphans aged 0-18 in the city of Mombasa need their help and ours.
Spent a couple of hours yesterday afternoon in an orphanage in Nairobi. It is very well run and the kids are being given another chance in life. But I did find the whole experience a little upsetting and very humbling. When you hold a tiny 8-month old kid in your arms and feed it and you know young Carl has no parents, you are bound to feel upsetI guess.
But truthfully I felt like running away. It was just another of those obvious reminders of how good my life is and how crap most people's are.