Thursday, July 28, 2011

"What is your name?" (day 1)

To start off, I would LOVE to add pictures to my stories, but the internet connection is too weak and it would take many minutes. So you have freedom to imagine the scenery on your own until later.

(previously written)

Today was our first day at Noel, a day I have been anticipating for months now. Last night Abby and I were talking about our mixed emotions, our struggles and our excitements of our travels so far and those ahead. This morning as we drove to Noel, I was anxious about what was coming. How was I going to react to seeing the environment? How was I going to relate to the children? How would I be able to help? I was filled with questions. All of which left my mind for a moment as soon as we pulled in the gate. The kids came running out from all directions and I could not get off the bus quick enough! It was immediate hugs and hand shakes. I cried. Not just a few tears but the ugly face included. The kids looked at me strangely confused as to why I was crying, but I was so glad to be there and so taken back by their beauty.

As the day started off I was a wee bit nervous and uptight. Not feeling like myself, because I was frustrated by the language barrier and constricted with the newness of it all. They started by giving us a tour of the orphanage, which was very minimal, but in some of the boy dorms there were groups waiting to dance for us. It was the cutest thing, and their smiles were unlike anything I have ever seen! It was beautiful. We made our way to the special needs area, which is basically the kids who were left as orphans after the genocide. No one knows their age, some not even where they are from because they were found stranded. Most of them just sit and stare at nothing. They cannot do anything for themselves; it was very hard to see. I knelt down to one sweet girl and held her hand, once again crying, I just told her she was beautiful and we had to move on in the tour.

I have been told that a few kids stick to one person and that is their buddy. Which soon proved very true. I had one little girl ALL day long, I would love to tell you her name, but it takes about 2 full minutes for her to even say it, so I doubt I will be remembering that one even if I ever get to a point of pronouncing it She would just quietly sing songs at my hip and occasionally ask for me to pick her up. ALWAYS holding my hand with both of hers and either playing with my fingers or trying to resolve my peeling skin problem (a great side effect of my previous sunburn). At one point she even licked her hand and rubbed it on my arm in attempt to make the dead skin disappear. Although, that worried me some I didn’t have time to stop it. Instead I took it as a very loving gesture and moved on. This little girl was also very territorial of me and my hand. If another child would come to take my hand she would {not} kindly say something in her language followed by Munzungo which meanswhite person”. So therefore I imply that she was owning me, and making sure everyone knew I was hers. How I wish I could grow more hands to hold them all, I tried doubling up and hold two hands in my one, but they weren’t satisfied.

Then there was Flamina (I am guessing on the spelling). She has a very gentle and quiet spirit. When she learned my name she would just hold my hand, stare at me, and quietly whisperCailee” and I would look at her and smile and whisperFlamina”. We would repeat this every few minutes. The only words we could speak to one another, but I do not think she could ever fully understand what it did to my heart to hear her speak my name. Anytime I would go into a room, or area where the kids weren’t allowed she would be waiting for me at the door and greet me with a huge smile as if it had been days. Againmy heart melted.

I didn’t spend as much time with the babies today, and tomorrow we start medical assessments on the older kids, so I will be in the waiting room playing and preparing them. In the mean time work my way to spending hours holding babies, and playing with toddlers. That day will come.

I will admit it was difficult at first to adjust, but as the day progressed, I was comfortable and honored. I tickled, hugged, played numerous hand clapping games and smiled my heart out and loved every minute. I still pray that God will humble me enough to fully grasp my surroundings instead of just brushing it off as I sometimes so in order cope. These kids are sick, they are dirty, their clothes are what we consider rags. Covered in holes, stains, and dirt…but they are so much more than what they wear. They live in an orphanage, and have little to do with their days, but they are not defined by their circumstances. They are God’s children and light up with His love that is within them. Multiple times today I would look into their faces, and even though I knew nothing about them, and couldn’t ask them despite how badly I want to know. I found rest in knowing God knows their name, He knows their ever desire and every thought. He knows where they are from and how they got there. He knows them intimately. I found comfort knowing that these children aren’t lost nor forgotten. They are loved, they are cherished, and they have a great purpose.

p.s they LOVE taking pictureswhen you get out your camera they immediately run around posing and yell “photo” and pull on you until you point it their direction.

Also, they LOVE Justin Bieber, they sing “Baby, Baby, Baby OHHHIt is pretty cute!

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