Top 10: #5

    It is crazy to think that 3,225 miles away from me there are people I call my best friend. Never before would I have thought that this is possible, but from the look on their faces when I tap their shoulder after a year apart, I know it is true. I have made inseparable bonds with kids just a few years younger than me, but miles and miles away. My Nicaraguan buddies, the kids I long to see every year, are my best friends and let me tell you a little something about my best friends.
   Giggling in Spanish, "Franklin es alli. Es alli." Pointing to the top of the bed. 
   "Where? I don't see him! I think you're lying."
   Hehehe "No, es alli!!" hehehe 
   "Krista, they say that Franklin is up there, I cannot find him! 
   "Where?"
   "Up there, I think they are lying, I don't think there is a Franklin." 
   "Yeah, they are just lying, lets go outside..."
As we laugh over the boys tricking us, we go on with our day and look forward to the next day at the beach.

   "Hola, como estas?"
   "Bien."
    "Como te llamas?"
    "Me llamo Franklin." 
    "KRISTAAA WE FOUND FRANKLIN!!!!!" 
This was my reaction the day at the beach, when this little boy not even up to my shoulders looked at me to be his friend that day on the beach. That day at the beach, Franklin never left my side. Once it started raining at the beach, a normal occurrence in Nicaragua, he came running over to me and I got to hug this boy under the shelter of my towel. Then the entire bus ride home, we sat by each other... then he was gone. Not once more on that trip did I see that smiling face again.
                                    Fast forward two years and we are once again walking around the orphanage and Krista comes up to me and points to this young man standing by us, "Hey, is that Franklin?" As I look into the eyes of this young man, my mouth dropped and I couldn't believe that this young man was once that little boy. I went up to him and said hi and reintroduced myself because I did not believe that this boy would remember me from that one day on the beach and at first, he did not.  Throughout the week, I grew closer and closer to this boy. We played silly games, we talked for what seemed like hours in our mixed languages, he invited me to his band practice and I was longing to go, but we were working, we played endless hours of war, and he even taught me how to use my camera. This young man stole my heart and till this day I cannot explain how much I love this boy. After a weeks adventures, we found this picture above of us on the day at the beach two years ago. I showed this to Franklin, and his smile lit up. He recognized his young self next to me, and maybe memories came back to him. I am still astonished by the young man that Franklin turned into. Now that you have met my first best friend, let me introduce you to another.

"Hola, como te llamas?"
 "Me llamo Lucely."
 "Tu es muy bonita!!"
 "No, me es feo. Muy feo." 

    As I looked into the eyes of this young girl, I knew that she believed what she said. She said she was not beautiful, but very ugly. From that moment I met that girl, I knew that she needed an influence in her life that will tell her she is beautiful and is always there for her. On my second trip to Nicaragua is when I met this little girl, and we had times that are unforgettable. We played at the beach, learned handshakes, and talked. Talked. And talked. Lucely's favorite thing to do was to talk, even though it was the hardest thing for us to do. We talked about everything, and she longed to see pictures of my family. I fell head over heels for this girl, I was heart broken to leave her. The week was coming to an end, and Lucely knew that I would be leaving soon. She came up to me and asked for a letter. And a letter is what I gave her. I wrote her a letter and Pastor Earl translated it into Spanish so that she could understand. When it was our last day, I had to hold back tears to make sure that this little girl did not see me cry. I gave her my letter and we started to hangout until I had to leave, and she handed me one she wrote for me. I have kept this letter in my wallet for two years, and have read it over and over again.
    The one thing that I was looking forward to the most when I went back this year was seeing that beautiful, smiling face again. The first night we went to the orphanage, I was dancing around with all of the little kids and Krista came up to me. She pointed to a group of girls and

said, go over there, you wont believe who you will see. I looked at her, ran, and came face to face with my best friend. I tapped her shoulder, and as she turned around, the look on her face was astonishment. She remembered me, and could not believe that I was back. She gave me a big hug and we both could not find the words to communicate. Although this time around we did not hang out as much, I was happy to see her with her friends all the time and everyday without fail, I always got my hug. We did get to hang out a little bit, and we played uno with her and her friends- the most outrageous and unfair game of uno, but I got to do it with my best friend. As well as uno, she wanted to again talk about my life. She wanted to know who my boyfriend was, how my family was, and endlessly made fun of the Spanish I couldn't understand or speak. To me, it astonished me how much this young eleven or twelve year old girl symbolized the same actions as the girls I babysat back home. I was elated to be reunited with my best friend again.
   It's crazy to think about the friendships I have made across that world, but its heartwarming to know that once I step on the grounds of Verbo, I will have smiling faces greeting me. I miss my two best friends and cannot wait to see them again. The count down is on!

Top 10: #6

    There is no better feeling in life than going up to someone who is all alone and befriending them. My entire life I have loved sitting with that one kid at lunch who was all alone, playing with that one kid who had no one to play with at recess, and just being friends with the "outcast." The first day we got to Nicaragua, we got to play with the kids. Most of the kids dive right into playing with the crazy white Americans, but others are unsure of who we are, especially those who have not been at the orphanage for a while.
   I was sitting on the bench, watching some of the kids and my team play volleyball (because I cannot play volleyball!!), when I noticed a group of boys sitting and watching with me. I tried to talk to them with the best of my ability, but like always it was hard with the language barrier. I tried to convince them to go play, but nothing was really working. So then, I tried to talk to one boy in particular, Rodon, and from there a friendship that will last a lifetime bloomed.
  I saw him looking at the frisbee's that one of the girls brought from home, so I motioned to them and asked if he wanted to play. We started playing and soon the game grew, and we played for what seemed like hours throwing this frisbee around. We always knew how good they were at sports, but it was crazy how amazing he was compared to us. None of us could continually catch the frisbee and every time he or one of his friends went to catch it, they got it with one hand. Their abilities astonish me every time I go there.
   After frisbee died down, I started teaching him a clapping game that we learned on move. He caught on quicker then I thought he would, and it was a lot of fun to play such a universal game. After all of that, we were just messing around and came up with a handshake. I am still unable to understand why, but this handshake made me so happy. I was elated to have this kind of connection, and only on the first day, with a boy I met hours before. Every time we saw each other for the rest of my time in Nicaragua, we did our handshake, and sometimes just walked away. It was a feeling that we acknowledged each other, but we did not need to say a lot.
  When Rodon was playing with the other boys, I got to talking to another American who had been at the orphanage for awhile. He told me that Rodon had not been there for more than a couple months. It was interesting to hear this, because it explained why he had a hard time communicating with us in Spanish. His main language was Miskito, the native language in Nicaragua. He had improved a lot in the months that he had been there.
  From that day on, every time Rodon saw me, he ran up and gave me a hug and then we did our handshake. I loved that I made such a huge impact on this boy within the first months he was in the orphanage. I will never know what his home life was like before the orphanage, but I know that I made an impact in his life because of the smile on his face and the hugs I got. I loved and love this boy with all my heart, and cannot wait to be reunited with him again soon.