Okay, so when we were told to make a blog post I’m thinking: “oh man, now I’m gonna have to try to be inspiring and tell some deep story.” Well, I’ve decided the best think to do is just write (well type) and see what happens. There has been more that one moment here that has affected me in one way or another. Yesterday, March 22, we went to the orphanage for the first time and I’ve decided to share my experience on that.
Having had a sibling go on this trip, as well as some people from last years group that I talk to, I was able to hear some stories about the orphanage and a little about peoples experiences there. Most of what I heard was not the jolliest of stories so the morning before we left I was...a little more than a little nervous (I wasn’t scared......). We got to meet as a group before going and Rachael talked to us about what we could expect. We also read a letter from Lauren Bouwers, reminding us to take risks and to be encouraged.
When we got to the Orphanage, in terms of landscape, it was the last thing I expected. It was beautiful. There was so much colour and life everywhere you turned. The bus was still backing in when we were greeted by little Anderson, with his hands in the air cheering for us. People where standing around the gates trying to see who these new visiter’s were. As we filed out the car, we were giving hugs and yes, kisses from the kids that knew Rachael and Erica.It was a good way to start of our adventured I would say.
The first child that I chilled with was Tomei. He really wanted to show somebody his little baby chickens. Holding my hand, pulling me along and speed walking, looking back at me every now and then as if to make sure I was as excited as he was, he led me to his chick spot. He showed me how he feeds them, he let me pet them and even told me when they were full and needed to sleep. From the looks of thinks though, those chicks were in no way tired. I had fun with Tomei and he really calmed my spirits about being there.
I only stayed with Tomei for a little while because I really wanted to just look around and check on some people (I almost for got: Rachael put us in partner but we didn’t really stay together unless we needed to be with someone). From Tomei, I went to the toddler room. That was when the ship got a little rocky. The room the toddlers were in was not much different from the general grounds. There was a beautiful painting of a globe and a rainbow and a city on one of the walls. It was bright and to me, it was alive but at the same time, sullen in a way. A good number of people from our group were already in there hanging out with the children. I kind of roamed a bit, just looking at the kids. I can’t describe what I was feeling in a way that will make sense, but I guess you could say I didn’t really know what to think or feel in that moment. There was a lot of emotion hanging in the air but it was silent mostly. I left and walked around the grounds a little more but founded my way right back in the toddler room. I held a little boy for a while, I wouldn’t have held him so long if he hadn’t started to cry whenever I tried to put him down. I tried at least three times before a nurse came over with a bottle for him. I was kind of scarred to feed him (which makes zero sense considering I have 6 siblings under me). He was lying on him back because he couldn’t sit up on his own. The nurse kind of just put it in his mouth and he was cool, so...I was cool too. I felt like he was tired because he was chill with being in bed after he drank his bottle.
After lunch, I ventured upstairs to the older boys area. I’m not gonna lie or sugarcoat it: I was scarred. I did not want to go up there at all. I have had encounters with people with mental disabilities and I just don’t know how to act. Honestly, they make me uncomfortable and I know that probably sounds wrong or even bratty, but that’s the reality of how I was feeling. However, encouraged by Lauren’s letter and Rachael’s talk with us, I pushed myself to do it. I didn’t do it on my own (thank the Lord), a few of us went up together.
The entrance to the boys area was not as welcoming as the other rooms. Where there was open doors to the rooms downstairs, this entrance was a locked barred gate. The nurse let us in and one of the boys tried to get go down, but apparently, there not allowed out, well at least then anyways. I stayed really close to anyone I could because I was a little frightened by some of the boys, like the ones that would follow us and stare with wide eyes. One boy that I remember distinctly was an older boy Rachael said they called Window Boy. His lower body seemed extremely fragile in comparison with his upper body (like most of the kids there), but he managed to somehow stand up with one hand on the bed post and the other scratching at one of the squares that made up the window, with a little piece of paper. He glanced our way for about a second before going back to his square of window. I shook some hands and gave a high five or two and I was done. Back to the toddler room for me.
With the toddlers some of the same people were still there and other had moved on to different areas or rooms. This time, I spent some time with a little girl named Caralina (I don’t know if that’s the right spelling but we’re gonna spell it like that for know). She was the most beautiful little girl I have ever seen. She had an amazing smile that could brighten up someones entire day. When I went to her, she looked kind of sad but a bit frustrated at the same time. I can’t remember who it was at the time, but one of the girls standing around her bed told me that she liked it when you helped her stand up. So I picked her up and before I even took her out she put on that amazing smile. I took her out and held her for a while. She would do this thing where she would push my head up by my chin, and then just start randomly laughing. She did it over and over again and each time it she would laugh harder and harder. Just thinking about it is making me laugh. lol! I wish I could fully explain how beautiful she was.
Just looking at her from a distance, you wouldn’t even be able to tell that there was anything wrong with her, but when you hold her up, you realize that she can’t actually carry her own wait. At one point I took her outside and let her look around and get some fresh air. When we went back in her room, I didn’t want to put her back in her bed. It’s stupid but I really just wanted to help her in anyway that I could so with a bit of difficultly, I sat in a corner resting against a wall and put her to sit facing me. I lifted her like you would a little baby that you’re trying to help stand up for the first time. It’s stupid because I knew the whole time that in order for Carolina to stand much less walk, someone would have to be there to stretch her legs for her and massage her muscle on a daily basis. My 30 seconds there, holding her up wasn’t going to do much for her leg strength. Actually, it wasn’t going to do anything. Eventually, I had to put her back in her bed though. Now, thinking about it, I should have spent the last few minutes we had holding her so she wouldn’t have to go back in bed. I also knew that either which way, the last thing I would have seen on her face, would not be a smile. It would be these big brown beautiful eyes, searching for someone else to hold take her from that bed, and hold her.
After seeing all the things that I did at the orphanage, I can’t say that was sad when I left. It wasn’t because I was still scarred or tired or anything like that. I wasn’t sad and I’m still not sad because I realize that compared to how I’ve seen “normal” children live here in the Dominican Republic, the orphanage is a safe haven for these kids. Little babies no more than two years old, sleep on sheets on the concrete floors in some homes. I’ve seen houses with no roofs on them and little boys running around butt naked with no shoes on the hard stoney ground. From my perspective, there is so much hope that lives in the Orphanage. The simple fact that there is a roof over their heads, and clothes on their backs. The fact that they have beds to sleep in and that it’s hard enough feeding your own children in the DR, there are woman that are there everyday making sure that each child has eaten and that each child (or not child) is changed and clean. The smiles that each child has, the clear connection between all of them and the beautiful colours that surround every corner of the Orphanage, even the boys upstairs. To me, the Orphanage is so alive and amazing that I can’t be sad and I refuse to cry for how bad it may seem. I choose to notice the negative but glory in the positive of it all.
No comments:
Post a Comment