the "orphanage" | rachael

The “orphanage”: really it should be named “the home for children whose parents can’t look after them” as it is not really an orphanage at all. Often when you think of an orphanage you think of a bright and happy place where children run freely. Such homes are beacons of hope for children whose parents passed away. That is not the story for all of these children. One child was brought to a hospital for treatment and was never picked up and was then brought to the “orphanage”. Another child’s mother walked for hours through paths in the mountains to drop off her son knowing he could receive better care at the “orphanage” than she could provide her son at home. Other children are brought there because their parents just can not afford to feed them let alone give them the extra care and attention that is needed. This place relates to poverty: plain and simple.

Hermania is a bright, happy and generous nurse who knows the names and stories of ALL of the children at the home. After talking with her and also some of this year’s students, I have gained a new appreciation for what is encompassed in this place. It is not a place full of unloved children, it is a place where children exist because of desperation, poverty, majority (third) world problems and, ultimately, a different form of love.

What I write is my opinion, but this opinion has been shaped and moulded over the past five years of working at this home. This opinion has been shaped based on what I have experienced in the rest of this country, what I have read about this country and what I have learned through conversations with Dominicans as well as with students.

In this overall program we work among many impoverished people. We’ve worshipped with, had hair braided by, gave piggy-backs to (a bajillion of them), done construction with, played clapping games and baseball with, have been stared at and have taught impoverished people; people who feel the rain through holes in their tin roofs, who struggle to provide clothing for their children and whose major daily job is to feed their families. Picture this: you are a family living in a house made of tin scraps and cheap wood. You have three kids that you already struggle to feed. You give birth to a fourth. This fourth child is delayed in walking and talking. Something is wrong. They need extra attention. They are not as independent as other children their age. They continue to develop slowly. Maybe they have a hard time eating. You struggle to feed your four children. You do not have money to have a doctor tell you what is ailing your child. You do not have the time, money, energy or resources to give this special child what it needs. You hear of a government run place that looks after special children. At this place the kids are fed, bathed, clothed and have a bed. Their roof doesn’t leak. Their physical needs are taken care of. Out of love for your child, your child finds his or her way to this home. He now has a bed, is bathed and fed. The grounds are immaculate and has a lovely courtyard. The rooms are clean and the walls have brightly coloured murals. The Dominican government has clearly invested some money into this place.

Bethani added an incredible new perspective on the “orphanage” in our circle time on Saturday evening. She shared how she saw this place as one of hope and joy. She compared the children in the “orphanage” to children she met in Dominican bateys. When looking at the “orphanage” from this perspective I understand her view. Too often I looked at the “orphanage” from a Canadian perspective. I saw what the kids didn’t have. I saw the touch and nurturing they were missing. I saw the lacking human interaction. I saw diseases that we treat in Canada being left unmanned and untreated in these Dominican bodies. I saw these “simple” diseases/disorders like autism, down syndrome, hydrocephalus and cerebral palsy hijack these young Dominican bodies. I saw the lack of physio, occupational and speech therapy. I saw the lack of medical attention. I saw the lack of human attention. I didn’t see it as fully, in the same way Bethani did. I did see hope and good, but now it exudes such feelings.

Does it take away the injustice of it all? Nope.

Orphanage day. Scary. Exciting. Everything in between. As per usual the two hour ride there was silent. Headphones and ipods are idaresay pivotal on these days. We arrived at the front of the “orphanage” where Ricardo was hanging out. When Erica and I got out it was very, very clear that he was excited to see us. He was more than excited. He doesn’t speak but body language sure does tell a story. Our hearts warmed. It is fun to be remembered. The security guard let us through the front gate. We asked him to open the back gate but he refused and said no group was allowed in. We were shocked to say the least: we had called the day before and were given verbal permission to come but noone told the security guard so he was not going to let us in. Fair. We did get him to put us on the phone with the director. Erica talked to the director, I found Hermania (the lovely nurse who remembers us from past years) who spoke on our behalf and between the phone call and her, we were let in.

As Erica and I entered and walked through the home we were greeted with ridiculous enthusiasm from Anderson and Tomei. It was clear that they too remembered us. Well, who is kidding who: we had no idea if they remembered us but they were excited to see us because they knew there would be people around to give them attention. I like the idea that they remembered us better so let’s go with that. Tomei and Anderson are over the moon. When Anderson, a boy with Down Syndrome, saw the bus back in through the gate onto the grounds, he hollered and threw his hands in the air like he was on a roller coaster. I had Tomei in my arms as we watched the bus pull in. Tomei and I went on the bus to greet the students and soon there was a mass exodus. BUT as the Canadians descended the stairs of the bus they were greeted by a thrilled Anderson, an older boy who looks like he is constantly angry with the world but wanted to give everyone a hug/kiss and a scad of younger kids. A warm welcome if you ask me.

We went to leave our stuff in the office but before we got there Tomei insisted that someone from the group come and see his pollitos (pollo = chicken. “Ito” in Spanish means little). Tomei is a lovely little boy - 9 or so would be my guess. Bethani was voluntold by me to go and hang out with Tomei and by doing so she led the way for the rest of the group. She was led to the back of the grounds again where Tomei showed her the four pollitos, how he fed them the cornmeal, watered them and he showed the little box he had poked holes in and lined with a shirt. At circle time that evening Brian, Thomas, Erica, Nicole and many others were familiar with Tomei’s care of his pollitos. The responsibility and awareness this little boy showed throughout the day was inspirational and heart-warming.

Throughout the day each of the kids found their place at the orphanage. There were some tears but, when speaking in generalities, tears were few. There was an overarching happy presence. There was laughter - especially as Thomas and Zach engaged kids in wheelchair races. Thomas loaded two kids into one wheelchair and boy did all three of them laugh! Thomas kept going all day - from kid to kid. Sometimes sitting with kids, piggybacking others and wheelchair racing even more. The joy on Thomas’ face was priceless!

The joy Jordan exuded as he played extreme peek-a-boo with Freddy drew out tearful tears of onlookers. If you were to look at the wrong moment you would have seen Jordan stone faced and standing against the wall and in that moment you could think that Jordan was not enjoying himself. But, in the blink of an eye, immense joy took over Jordan’s whole being and he sprung towards him in surprise and Freddy’s smile and excited movements hijacked his little being. An hour later you’d see Jordan hiding under Freddy’s crib playing the same game. No matter what time of day, with the exception of a small lunch break, you saw Jordan loving on Freddy.

Brian had Ria in a wheelchair. Ria is Adam’s buddy from last year: check out last year’s blog posts (same address, just earlier posts) for more on that beautiful story and relationship. My guess is she’s 8ish or so. At first glance many think she’s a boy. For various reasons, including cleanliness and no tangles, the girls in the “orphanage” have short hair. Brian seemed to quickly fall in love with Ria as he wheeled her around, but not because she needed help. Sometimes Brian would help with her strength training and wheel her to the bottom of a slight ramp and then cheer her on as she’d wheel herself up it. At other times Brian was helping her sweep the place: she held a huge broom (compared to her little body) and he pushed her to a new dirty spot every so often so she could clean a new patch of ground. What makes Ria extra special is her body: her upper body is jacked - she’s absolutely ripped. Her lower half couldn’t be more contrasted: her legs are essentially nothing but skin and bones. But if you focus on her what she can do and then remember her beautiful smile - she can evoke joy and tears.

Jea was a champ. Often the upstairs is a difficult place to go. It is a place where the older boys (14-20ish) live and it is accessed only through a gate that needs to be unlocked by the nurses. Jea isn’t an overly strong or tough looking girl. Let’s be honest, at the beginning of construction she struggled carrying block and cement (but you all need to know that after two weeks she developed carrying skills and strength like a true champion!). Jea spent much of her day upstairs with the various boys. At one point it was just Brian and Jea left. Brian asked if she was okay alone - she was, no problem. She got the key from the nurse, unlocked the doors for others as they came and went and spent the majority of her time upstairs in the older boys room. She sang, clapped, played, and silently loved on them.

Sophia and Bethani both fell in love with Carolina. Carolina was new to the “orphanage” last year. As Bethani described in her post and as Lauren Bowers described last year, Carolina is a beautiful, beautiful girl. Watching Sophia and Bethani, each alone at different times throughout the day, was another picture of beauty. They each held her up trying to make her stand, got her to laugh, stared into her lovely eyes, found ways to make her laugh and engaged with her. We found out last year that Carolina had hydrocephalus - ‘water on the brain’. Her head doesn’t seem to be much larger than last year so that is a blessing. She does seem responsively slower - but both Bethani and Sophia worked with her current abilities and found ways to engage with her in meaningful ways.

Rosa. A little girl who won the hearts of Nick and Keith in previous years. She has a tiny little body but this tiny, incapacitated body is nothing compared to her massive smile. Massive. It’s like putting Fiji beside China ;) Massive. This year, among others, Emily and Zach fell in love with Rosa. Each of them spent hours at her bedside, sometimes separately and sometimes together: peek-a-boo, touch, songs, staring all evoked joy from Rosa, tears from Emily and smiles from Zach. When Emily put her hand in the air, Rosa was able to track it and give her a high five. When Zach disappeared and then reappeared, she beamed her massive smile. After lunch Zach and Emily tag-teamed the “let’s bring Rosa some fun” party. Well, they brought her fun alright - so much fun that she upchucked her lunch. The nurse gave them a semi-scowl and pointed her finger at the culprits. Zach comes over to me and says, “I never realized I was so funny I could make someone barf!” In talking with the nurse afterwards she wasn’t angry, more annoyed as it mean a change of clothes and sheets. But she understood the bigger picture. Zach and Emily will be told that when we go back they are only allowed to be funny before lunch.

Many students meandered around like Erin, Nicole and Arie. This doesn’t mean they weren’t effective or impactful, rather, it means they spread their love. Erin pushed herself and visited most, if not all, of the kids. She engaged and interacted and moved around. She had a smile on her face and gave energy when it was required and sat silently when that was best. She also spent a significant amount of time at the bedside of a boy referred to by the nurses as “Chino” (which means Chinese). Erin is not a overtly loud soul, but in the moments beside his bed she seemed “extra” pensive. Nicole was another meanderer. She spent some time at the bedsides of various “toddlers” thinking, loving, touching and encouraging laughter. She took a little boy outside to the courtyard. She willingly went upstairs to the older boys and appeared more than comfortable and held her own. She was not afraid to embrace and laugh with the boys up there. It was incredible to picture the “Nicole from TD” in this new stretching environment as the two Nicoles seem starkly different: wherever she was throughout the day she was confident, engaged and willingly initiating communication and contact. She rocked it!

Arie was much like Thomas during his orphanage day: full of boundless energy accompanied by wide smiles! Arie was honestly loving life! In talking afterwards: he loved it! He didn’t feel sad, he made it such a party being there - he went from room to room, crib to crib bringing smiles and laughter. He bounded around the courtyard and spent time upstairs with the older boys. Up there was a relatively aggressive boy in a yellow shirt who wanted to get out and down the stairs. Arie was aware of this and whenever someone entered the gate, Arie was there and would literally pick up this large boy and haul him over somewhere else so his peer could enter safely. What a champ!

Sam fell in love with a girl named Elizabeth. She was 8 or so and confined to her crib as her appendages didn’t work. Sam loved on her all day - even feeding her lunch. (Feeding the kids here is not a simple task. It requires patience and precision). Sam’s day with Elizabeth was quite similar to Jordan’s day with Freddy. She spent the day laughing, playing peek-a-boo and Sam even took Elizabeth outside. While outside together Sam was trying to get her stand and was doing some little things to work on her leg strength. It was fun to watch Sam pick up non-verbal cues from Elizabeth on what worked and what didn’t. Sam was very successful in figuring out what was working and what Elizabeth enjoyed. Sam’s constant positive energy and persistence was inspirational!

Monica was...Monica: energy, smiles, songs and laughter. She, Scott, Bethani and I were the first ones to go upstairs and they did so very willingly. We had a party up there: checking in with each of the boys, singing “If You’re Happy and You Know It” and laughing away. Monica and Scott were intentional in seeking out each and every kid that was upstairs. There are two rooms down a hall that can be extra scary to go to. Not for Scott or Monica! They walked right in to a room with six different mattresses laid out. Then there was a door that was closed, where a boy had just exited from, and Monica asked if she could go in. Her curiosity was not once hindered by fear. There was one boy, “Walking Boy” who grabbed Monica’s hands to get her to help him walk around. In the past years Walking Boy has been quite friendly - big smiles as you helped him be mobile (for without the assistance of another he just spends his life on the ground). Being the kind soul that she was, Monica helped him walk around but promptly quit when he lunged in and bit her. Oops. That did not stop her from helping others, but it was pretty funny.

While upstairs Bethani and Monica were moved by “Window Boy”: a boy who (as Bethani described in her blog) stares out of a small window pane: the only clear pane on that wall. He stares at the outside world with his face pushed up against the glass. He was chewing on some paper. Monica approached and said “is it cool that he’s eating that? Should we take it away from him?” They left it for they figured if it was taken away he’d just find a new source. They chilled with him for a bit but then left him content with his window.

Blindness. My first encounter with blindness was watching Little House on the Prairie where Mary lost her sight because of the effects of scarlet fever. I remember that being a traumatic event for me and for Mary, “but” Mary was fifteen. Alex, Scott and Rebecca both had encounters with blindness at the “orphanage”. Alex spent half a day with a lovely, lovely girl. After some time it was determined that she was blind. Alex still took her outside to get some fresh air. Alex fed, loved and held this child. When her back was sore or her butt was numb, she continued to hold. Unconditional love. Rebecca and Scott both spent much time in the morning with a baby who was in a makeshift baby chair within a crib. At first we thought the child was 9 months or so when, in actuality he was 16 months. Scott and Rebecca both asked why he was there as he appeared normal. Since he was sleeping most of the morning it was hard to tell so I told them to pay attention to when he woke up. When he did, they came and got me and we did some simple testing: he didn’t respond to touch on his arms or legs or belly: only on his left cheek (and when he did he produced a lovely dimple!) Then it seemed as though he was blind as well - we did some simple testing for that as well and we were right (and it was confirmed by the nurse). This baby was blind at fourteen months. They both continued to interact with him but Rebecca seemed especially attached to him.

Hydrocephalus: ‘water on the brain’. In this disease cerebral spinal fluid, the clear fluid cushioning the brain and spinal cord, doesn’t drain from the brain causing the skull to ‘expand’. People who have this have unusually large heads and, as a result, their heads are extra heavy. As a result they have great difficulty moving their heads which limits their lifestyle. There are two such children currently at the “orphanage”: one is William (last year fondly referred to as Joselito) who is 6 I believe. The other is a 14 month old girl named Jejuni who looks like a 6 month old. These two kids grabbed the hearts of Dylan, Greg, Sierra and Scott. Where others were initially afraid of these children, Greg and Dylan bravely led the way of love and sat by their bedsides. Dylan was especially drawn to William and spent much quiet time (as far as I could tell) just being beside him. Every couple of hours William needed his head turned so it could lay on the other side. When that happened, William was no longer facing Dylan but facing the wall instead. The crib was pulled out and Dylan moved his position so he could still see William’s sleeping and awake eyes.

Greg and Scott were drawn to Jejuni. Greg sat on the floor by her bedside just holding her hand. Scott soon took over. Sierra took over after that. As Greg sat there he began asking questions: great questions! As her situation was explained it became clear that Greg was angry at the injustice: this tiny girl was suffering with something that, if born back home in Canada, would easily be cared for. Despite his frustration and anger, Greg continued to love unconditionally.

Sierra took over this role later in the day. Sierra is one who wears her heart on her sleeve. Jejuni became her heart and overtook her sleeve. At 2:55, just before we were supposed to leave Jejuni needed a bottle feeding. The nurse took her out of her crib and began. Sierra looked longingly. I asked if she wanted to feed the child, she sheepishly said yes. I talked to the nurse and Sierra grabbed the bottle and started feeding her while still in the nurse’s arms. I asked Sierra if she wanted to hold her and her eyes lit up and gave a smiling ‘yes’! The nurse tenderly transferred Jejuni into Sierra’s arms and Sierra finished the feeding. Sierra was asked if Jejuni’s head was heavy. It wasn’t too bad: the interesting thing for Sierra was that her arm felt Jejuni’s head and her other hand felt the bottle that was in her mouth but the distance between her hand and arm was too great for her brain to grasp as normal. After the feeding was over, Sierra got some help gingerly replacing Jejuni back into her crib. Despite the care, Jejuni still cried as she was put down.

Megan’s story revolves around Eva. Eva has been at the home since the first DR iBlock trip in 2010. Back then she had lovely pigtails and scooted around in a wheelchair. Since then, five years later, she no longer has pigtails and is rarely in a wheelchair but part of that is because Megan entered her life and never let her down for the entire day. Megan was drawn to Eva right away - in circle time that evening she didn’t articulate why, but that is okay. They were attached at the hip. Eva pointed and Megan went. Megan fed her. Megan laughed with her. She and Megan sat on the couch and watched a bit of TV and also interacted with another boy from the home. Megan didn’t eat lunch, rather, had a package of crackers delivered to her instead as she did not want to leave Eva. It will not be a surprise to hear that Megan is excited to go back and spend time with lovely Eva!

And those, my friends, are the personal accounts of all 19 students. Know that much more happened in the day. There were plenty of interactions and there was plenty of love passed around that was not written about, and that is okay. Love was not shared to be seen or recorded or told about to folks back home. But what was seen and shared: that’s okay too!