CGG MUST-READ: Lucy Woodward's Doing Something diary of her time in Africa

By Lucy Woodward, as told to CGG music contributor Michelle Bellinger:

There were two words that were said to me on my second-to-last day in Kenya. Two words that let me breathe a little deeper and let me sit a little more peacefully. Two words that we don't hear strung together as a simple farewell much in the States. They were, “Go well”.

I don't know why they moved me so much, but they did. Almost like a 'god bless you' but without the possible connection of something bigger attached. It's a small moment, one notch up from a “Have a nice day” -- a more soulful, a less casual, a less vague “Have a nice day.” It made me think about how I want to “go well”. And usually, it's an instantaneous decision on what the meaning of it is. Like it's been there all along, ready for me to acknowledge it, so I can stick it in my back pocket before I move forward.

On our first day in Rwanda, my brother Davy and I went to visit a women's shelter. Most are HIV positive women and children who survived the country’s horrific 1994 genocide. [Editor's note: It is estimated that 800,000 to one million people were killed over a 100-day period of violence that was sparked in part by the death of Rwandan President Juvenal Habyarimana. The President is believed to have been murdered when his plane was shot down as commanded by his successor]. Their husbands and families were killed and they were left with virtually nothing except a house, their children, and maybe a goat. Some of these women were so depressed they became immobile.

A wonderful woman named Alice runs the shelter and provides workshops, prayer meetings and support groups for them. We were told that even as little as a year ago, some of them still couldn't break the slightest smile. Now, more comfortable with themselves, they were outspoken and even joked. One woman stood up and said, "We all felt so alone, and when we were brought together and were encouraged to talk about it, we all healed together. And we still heal." The women described themselves as orphans. Alice asked us to listen to their stories and to tell them about who we are and what we do.

While in Rwanda, a few members of our group who happen to be filmmakers also gave lessons to approximately 15 Rwandan kids on how to write a script, use a camera and to edit their work at the film center there. The kids screened their short films: fictitious stories based on the genocide.

We then travelled to the Cura Orphanage just outside of Nairobi, Kenya. The orphanage houses 50 to 60 children who range in age from 5 to 12 and whose parents have passed away from HIV-related illnesses. The orphanage was founded five years ago by Mike Eldon, my best friend Amy's father, and his wife, Evelyn, who grew up in Cura. The children live in a one-story structure made of cinder blocks with 15 rooms, with four to six children per room. It costs $600 per year for each child to stay in the orphanage, [where they are] fed, clothed, educated, and have their medical needs taken care of.

On our first day there, we gave the boys different colored t-shirts so they could form teams to play soccer. The girls got together to sing and dance. We taught them the Hokey Pokey and they went down the list of every body part imaginable so we probably sang that song for an hour and a half! “You Are My Sunshine” was a winner, but “Itsy Bitsy Spider” was a hit! They sang in Swahili and English.

We brought and distributed school supplies, including adhesive stickers which were a big hit! Once every kid had their name on a tag on their shirt, they wanted OUR names on there too. One of our friend's last name is Shapiro. The kids couldn't remember his first name so they demanded that “Shapiro” be written on the next batch of stickers. Just picture a whole bunch of Kenyan kids with the name “Shapiro” all over them!

This was a special day for all. We left emotionally charged and excited to return in two days to paint their bedroom walls. We split up into groups and purchased paint supplies. As we lay down the first coat of paint, the original coat was started falling off, crumbling at our feet. We knew we had to change the plan. Davy had the beautiful idea of making animal stencils for the kids' doors. We spent the next three hours painting gorillas and elephants their bedroom doors in different colors. They looked amazing. When the kids came home from school for lunch (a mound of white rice, 20 or so black beans, two small boiled potatoes, tea and a banana) they were joyful, gracious and their big, wide-open faces beamed with excitement. I couldn't remember the last time I felt so elated!

These kids want futures. You can tell how they talk about wanting to "go to New York one day!" or wanting to "be a teacher!" or "the President!" They work with what they got and have each other as family. While I was painting, I remember thinking about things that happened in school growing up and running home to tell my mother and grandparents about them; to be able to experience things and then tell someone who wasn't there all about it would give it a new life. What I had experienced as an eight or 13 year-old could live on through my stories. Maybe that’s why I am a songwriter now?

These kids don't have a person to run home to tell "These people painted animals on our bedroom walls today!" Fortunately, they have a shared experience. Imagine having 50 brothers and sisters! If one kid has a nightmare and is frightened and scared, she will be absolutely looked after. It's quite beautiful, actually. It was wonderful to be able to share and see their reactions. It's a part of one's growth, but every child has such a different experience of his/her own and it made me wonder how they'll be able to retain that little memory; stash it away in their mind so they can share it with new people they meet down the road? They don't have a whole lot to compare their lives to, so they just live how they live and do their best and really look out for each other.

There was a will I saw in some of them; a desire. Some of them will go to college, but that's years away. And they will, “Go well”. As much as they know how, as much as any of us know how, we, “Go well.”