Clothes Minded

See, I just knew I would get caught up in a lot of heart-tugging drama if I kept thinking about Baby ANC!!! And I also knew that I would drag my feet just long enough to hear something that would make my heart sink a bit.

When I finally screwed up the courage to go back and see her again, Elizabeth the social worker told me that Baby ANC is no longer a resident of the Pumwani Maternity Hospital Abandoned Babies Room. She's gone. And not into a loving home, where there are baby bottles and warm blankets and smiling faces. She's was taken to one of several dozen orphanages in Nairobi. She's in a "baby home," and she's all alone, except for probably a few other babies lying next to her in the same rickety crib.

Don't act surprised that I'm already building up some Dickensian melodrama in my mind, which will likely provide even more reason for me to procrastinate about seeing Baby ANC again. The spartan conditions in Pumwani were bad enough. But so far, in my seven years of traveling to and living in African countries, I've actually never been inside an orphanage.

Something tells me I already know exactly what I'll see when I get there, and it will be a major bummer, and I will spend several days afterwards trying to pull myself together.

But then, maybe I shouldn't be so negative. Maybe it won't be so bad, and I'll even be uplifted a bit. That's why I went to Toi Market yesterday to buy these clothes to take with me when I go to the orphanage. It was actually a lot of fun picking out all the teeny tee shirts and jumpers and and dresses and pants and overalls...for once, being a shopaholic was a positive thing. But I know the folks at the different stalls must still be talking about the mad Black Mzungu, barking orders for onesies with "More color, that one is so drab! Do you have one with shorter sleeves? And that one...SIMPLY HIDEOUS!!!"

Anyway, I'll have a nice gift basket for the babies and toddlers I see when I finally get around to visiting Baby ANC in the orphanage. And the good news is, there'll be room to smuggle her out with me when I leave.

Yeah, yeah, I can hear what y'all are thinking.

"That's our Rachel. All Talk, No Action."