Friday 9th April

I cried today. We met one last time as a group and started talking about the children. Chrissie came along too and gave a short speech about how important our visit was to kids like them. Then Tony added to it by saying that he felt emotional every time he was with them. That you only had to turn around and there was somebody else stretching out their arms. And I realised that I knew some of these people by name. Beya, Annabelle, Jojo. And I knew what they were like. Their arms hugging onto me. Their laughter and the way they screwed up their noses at what they didn’t like. And I knew that I wanted to make them smile. And I didn’t want to go home.

So I looked out of the window, over the trees at the shipyard in the distance and I thought about the children. And I cried for them. Because I felt helpless. And if I hadn’t been in a room full of people, I would have cried some more. Big salty tears. I would have bawled and shuddered and wept. And I wish I had done.

So now I’m rereading the notes I made at the start of my trip and I’m pleased I was wrong. Because I’ve been shown some humanity and some people who matter.

They’ve been writing me cards. And Dianalyn has made me a line drawing with my name in bubble writing in the middle. Some of them gave me gifts. Hannah Joi gave me her school pass – all scuffed and chewed and ready for throwing away. As I sat in my room, tiny brown arms reached through the railings asking for a memento, “Please Kuya Tiiim, a remembrance for me. Kuya Tiiim, Kuya Tiiim. Meeee.”

I gave away my cap and my torch. And I put more clothes into a bag that we were leaving behind for the centre. Randy came up to the house and thanked me for the Manchester United shirt. John reckons he’s also asked for a City top. I told Randy to burn it if he ever receives one. I made some cards for the children who’d written me one but finding the right words wasn’t easy.

We did what you do on a final day. We called everyone together for a set of group photos and the lad who was taking them was swamped with our cameras. We gave out the wash bags and handed out sweets. We kissed and we cuddled and we made all the same jokes one more time. Time dragged along but rushed by all at the same time.

The coach left at 5pm. Most of the girls came out to wave us off. The younger ones wore red eyes and begged one more time for us to stay. I leaned out of the window as we left to wave them goodbye and watched the house disappear as we went down the hill.

So now I’m sitting in the same state of mildly hazy alertness in which I started writing. I’m back to normal life, with women in neck-ties offering me drinks periodically and dozens of movies to choose from on the television infront of me. I’ve text my friends and taken their drinks orders. And I’ve bought the rum that wouldn’t have been allowed at the girls’ house.

It’s been quite a trip.