Views:443 | By: Becky | Act: Visit Business Looking back at our childhood, the term mad slide is often associated with sliding down a hill full of mud. the thought that we can choose to throw out our hygiene all in the name of fun is currently a shuttering thought. but as children, we considered slides a right of passage.
Comparing notes between city kids and that raised upcountry I realized a major part of our fun involved gaining as much dirt as we could just in the name of fun.
a friend described their adventure and made me cringe at how far children could go all in the name of fun.
she described a water run that turned into a mud sliding competition than a disciplinary cancel that made me realize that children made the most of their adventure.
her story was based on how effective parents were at discovering what we were doing and how often teamwork caught up.
it was a Thursday afternoon when the parents had sent them to collect firewood. since it was often done in groups they all supported each other in the gathering of firewood and began their journey home. on their way home, they become tempted by a muddy hill and decided to undress and play. in their little minds. no evidence of their adventures was to be transported home. so they took over the hill and slide happily with no car in the world until they realized there was light no more. they all ten to the shrubs they had utilized as hung lines only to find an empty shrub. knowing their fates they gathered their strength and decided to carry their firewood on their clothless little bodies, with the knowledge that they were about to explain their day's activities. as they walked home in shame the fireworks dung into their bodies as the moon shined bright. it was a journey filled with bittersweet smiles. In the back of their minds, they all knew they were doomed but they also remembered how great their day had been. as they approached the boma, each compound was manned by an angry mother. the mothers were armed and ready. each child received the blessing of the cane from each parent. the communal discipline that was loud and clear. this added to the nakedness and painful firewood poking into their smooth little skins. When she arrived home her mother had a different kind of punishment. a hot salt wash. she had prepared her bathing water with the best disinfectant in town.
the experience on its own provided a vivid picture of how different city life and the village was. although we had a share of mudslides never did we get the extent of this village encounter. after an adequate amount of laughter one thing was clear. our childhood adventures were far more engaging than the current generation.
I, therefore, appreciate each adventure and experience as children. we can never regain our childhood but we can share our joys.