The Orphanages

For my internship, I am required to journal about my experiences. I need to write more than just what I did, but tie in terms and principles I have learned in psychology as well. Here I want to share a little of a couple of my journals that involve a very moving experience for me at a couple of orphanages we visited in San Pedro Sula. I will spare you the psychology stuff and just tell you about my experiences. =)

"Allison took me and one other girl to a special needs orphanage run by nuns in San Pedro Sula. She attempted to prepare me beforehand for what it would be like inside so my imagination was well-informed. We bought cake and ice cream (a very special treat) to give them.  Thankfully, what I imagined was somewhat worse than what we encountered, but that does not make it any less awful. We brought the stuff into the kitchen then we began to hand it out. I was a little nervous at first on just how to do it. I walked into the 1st room in which there were about 12 people. I say people, because it is very hard to tell ages. Some were definitely young kids or adults, but with malnutrition and deformities, it is so very hard to tell. There were 4 girls in one corner who could eat on their own. Though I do not know much about medical things, I think many in the orphanage had cerebral palsy. A few with down's syndrome, and then for whatever reason, others who were physically deformed and may or may not have had mental disabilities. One of the girls, Rayna, could speak with us well and even knew a few words in English. I fed a girl a few bites, but one of the sisters said she did not like ice cream or cake. So I moved on. The 2nd room was full of beds. I did not stop to count but I think there were about 40. There were a few people lying in beds. They do that all day, just staring up at the ceiling. There is not much light, and only fans blow, which freshens the air better, but does not do much for the heat or humidity.  I had to walk through the 2nd room to get to the 3rd room. Here it was much smaller with about 10 big hospital beds, and people, mostly kids, lying on them. The smell was not a dirty smell, but neither was it a "hospital clean" smell either. On a couple of beds there were wet spots, and I wondered if their diapers had been changed yet. There was only one sister there the entire time we were there for all these people. I was directed to a bed with 2 kids on it, their limbs being so short, they could both fit on the same bed. At first, I thought the one I was to feed was a boy, but I was mistaken. They give them short crewcuts in order to for easier maintenance and also probably to keep them cooler. I was not so sure about feeding her while she was lying down, but she handled it fine. She was so happy, and I felt guilty for dreading this at all. Here are all these people who live their almost their entire life here, perhaps even knowing what is going on. Though the conditions are not up to U.S. standards by any means, they are much better than they could get if they lived with their families.The last people we fed and talked to were 2 boys who were 18 and both were in wheelchairs with no ability to move their hands or feet. One of them, Josue, could speak some English and spoke very well. It was hard to imagine that they had been here for so many years in the same place when they could have so many opportunities in the states. It was heartbreaking, realizing they could have so much better care in the states. I realized my own selfishness in not wanting to help. I hope I do not forget the the things I saw ever, and that it makes me more appreciative of those who work with people with special needs and more compassionate for those people with special needs. 

After visiting the special needs orphanage and picking up another volunteer at the airport, we stopped at the public orphanage to give bananas to all the kids. It is not a very special treat in Honduras, but it is fruit so at least it is healthy. This is the orphanage where some of the girls in Allison's care have come from. It is more like foster care as many of the kids are taken from some sort of family situation that is dangerous or very bad for the kids. Allison works with a social worker who helps to find girls who have no chance of returning to their family so they are quite hopeless.  From the public orphanage, the kids may be transferred to other private smaller orphanages or other people like Allison. When we arrived, another team was just leaving after doing a VBS with the kids. We passed out most of the bananas we brought, about 50, then went into the toddler room. Here there were 10 kids, who all looked like boys, but I think a few were girls who had their heads shaved (probably because of lice and easier care). Several were toddlers, but there were a number that were older who had special needs. Two of the boys were 12 and sat in cribs, but did not speak anything understandable. There was one boy with Down's syndrome who the "aunts" or caretakers have not worked with at all so he will bite or hit if you get too close. One of his legs was tied to the crib so he would not get out. It was really quite sad. When we walked in, they were just waking up from their naps. A few were crying so we picked them up and held them. It made them so happy, and then we gave them bananas which was even better. I do not know how old any of the toddlers were as size and age differ so much here. There was only one "aunt" taking care of all of these kids, so that means there is not much holding of anyone. We just sat and held kids for a while. The boy I was holding did not latch on to me really, just seemed content to sit in my arms and eat the banana. When he was done, he was a little unhappy there was not more, like I was only holding him to feed him.Unfortunately, the time came to put the kids back in their cribs. Allison warned us that we need to put them down and run. As soon as I started to let go of my little guy, he latched on to my arms and started crying. Oh, that made it so much harder, prying his hands off of me and leaving him there, crying, knowing that he would not have someone else come hold him to comfort him. "

I do not think that any words I could put down would do justice to these situations. I really do not have words for how I felt. It makes me heartbroken and feel rather helpless. Yet I know God's heart must break too for these children, and I must trust His Word. "He executes justice for the fatherless and the widow..." (Deuteronomy 10:18) I do not think I will ever forget this--I hope I do not--and that it will continue to effect how I think. It is a lot to process and a lot to read. I know there are many kids like this or in worse conditions all over the world. Sometimes when I just feel helpless, I remember to pray for all those kids. But God also wants me to do more. "Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world." (James 1:27) Yes, I may be here now, "visiting" orphans, but what about when I go back home, to school, what will I do then? How do I share God's love with these kids then? I am still working on answers to those questions.