Phillipo!

The sun is going down and Phillip is giggling as he swings back and forth in my hammock.  Some of the other kids are looking slightly jealous and definitely confused at the fun we are having.  But neither of us really notice or care because we are content and having fun.  I'm not suppose to have favorites, but sometimes I slip up and it happens.

We met on Sunday when we arrived here at Buyuobe to set up another week of camp.  He mostly stayed at a distance and didn't speak much.  We were quickly told that he was "crazy" and needed to be left alone.  Once camp started on Monday Philip was hanging around the drum circle watching intently.  I didn't like the way the other kids (and many adults) treated him as if he was wasted space, like he wasn't worth the time or effort.

I am in no way qualified to diagnose anyone, but I have spent some time around kids with special needs.  So, quite unofficially, I think Phillip may be autistic.  Doesn't matter anyway, if you ask me.  All that matters is that he smiles all the time, loves to ride bikes, and has proven his drumming skills this week.

It was difficult to keep myself from getting angry with the villagers, students, and teachers when they would say mean things and push him away.  I had to remind myself over and over that they didn't know.  They didn't know Phillip had trouble expressing his own emotions and feelings and that at times he may feel trapped within himself, unable to say what he wants.  They didn't know, so they just brushed him off as crazy.  I can't imagine what that must be like.

I have a big sister with Down Syndrome.  I have seen the expression of pain on her face when she has been pushed to the side or made fun of.  For all the times I wasn't around to stand up for Tiffany, at least we were here to stand up for Phillip now.  That is what Tiffany would want, and I owe that to my big sis.

So, the team did a little educating to the kids and we explained how Phillip isn't mulalu (crazy)...I think I misspelled that.  Mallory will correct me later.  Phillip is different, but it doesn't mean he is dumb or worthless.  He understands your words, but that his brain is wired in a way that leaves him unable to express everything like we can.  I couldn't help but let the tears run down my face when I thought about all those times Phillip had been made fun of along with everyone else who is simply misunderstood.

So while I can't tell you what Phillip's "condition" is, I can tell you what his heart is like.  He is one of the first Ugandan children to not shout "Mazungu! Mazungu!" at us because he doesn't see our color or difference from everyone else.  He just sees me.  He pumps water from the well for 2 hours for the smaller kids, he really likes music, smiles more than any teenage boy I know, and loves high fives.

Once the other kids saw that we treated Phillip as equal, they caught on.  Phillip was the first at camp every day, and the last to leave.  He was the last face I saw as we were driving away.  I learned so much from that boy this week.  I learned something new about what it means to truly be free, to serve others because it's fun, and to just take time to stop and listen from a busy day.  I'm so thankful for the way God loves Phillip and the way Phillip sees that.  Thanks Phillipo.