One day, as I was walking in the village Kaluvi, Namibia, I
had seen some girls playing. There were two teams: the hunters and the hunted. Two hunters were standing on each side of a rectangular playground that the children marked in the dusty soil. A
group of girls were the hunted - they were playing the ducks. They had to move quickly inside the rectangle
while attempting to avoid a ball that the two hunters were throwing at them. The
game was very similar to one that I used to play in Romania when I was a child.
In my country it was called Ducks and Hunters (Ratele si vanatorii). I noted
some differences, though:
- While in Romania we used a piece of chalk to draw the limits of our playground on the asphalt road, the children in Kaluvi, Namibia, were building their playground using the dusty soil.
- While we had colorful balls to play with, the children there had a ball made out of plastic bags that they tied together with ropes in a round shape.
- While we played this game boys and girls together, no boy had joined them in that particular game; during my stay there I have never seen boys and girls playing this game together although it is likely that they do.
- While we had shoes to protect our feet, Namibian children were playing barefoot or in simple plastic slippers.
Some things, however, were no different: their joy as they ran
and ducked the ball.
I joined them in their game and became a child once
again, happy that I could find playmates at other end of the world. I did not
know their language nor did they know mine but games seemed to need no words.
Just like a smile, many are a universal language that makes us feel at home
wherever we are.
PS. Our countries are wealthier than that of the children in my story and still we forget to smile, play and to be thankful for what we have.Why?
