Saying goodbye @ the airport
Warning: The following dramatization may cause issues for those of a more delicate temperament or stomach. Seasoned mothers and nurses, you should be fine … you will probably even be laughing at me by the end of it all.
This morning I awoke about 6:30ish to the sound of my name being called by a number of little peoples. At first, I thought how cute, I am beginning the day with a chorus of toddlers calling to me. As I dragged myself out of bed, I realized that not only was I being greeted by the sounds of the kids, but more importantly, also one particular smell. Caca. Yes, that’s right, poop! Mind you, this is my first morning waking in the toddler house, as last night (Friday) I moved in to help out for the next 6 months (?!?!?). This meant that # 1, I had no idea what the 16 total toddlers were screaming at me in Spanish, and also #2, I had no idea where the bleach, hose, or whatever I needed was to clean it all up.
Now, this wasn’t just poop in a diaper. No, this was diarrhea dripping down the legs of little Alex with a trail leading to his bed, which also had diarrhea running down it’s sides. I may have an affinity for children and have spent a good deal of time taking care of all ages, including the hard to potty train toddlers. However, in the course of the morning, I am convinced that every toddler had to poop at least once and needed assistance with the act of wiping: the sheer number of them all is overwhelming. The smell of poop has lingered with me all day. I have actually avoided the bathroom in the house due to the odiferous memories it recalls. And of course, being a house of toddlers who constantly stick their hands everywhere, as well as constantly forget to wash their hands; there is more than just one child with icky, sticky, diarrhea.
Unfortunately, this is not a dramatization, sorry for the detail, but ohhh, it was so gross. However, I can suffer this initiation to the toddler house, Casa de Lamar, knowing that it means I have a home. While Thursday seems worlds away, that was my first day here at the orphanage, and unfortunately, I was a little less than excited. Between balling for a good portion of my last flight, eating a less then agreeable dinner alone, enduring a cold shower when all I wanted was something to feel right, and then being lying down to sleep in a big empty dorm room with 15 bunks starring emptily at me; I of course was asking myself why I was here and why for 6 months!
I think I may be working through the 5 stages of grief in response to a loss.* After all, in a way I have lost or ended my normal life, culture, and community. For that past month or so, I have definitely been in denial, the plane ride brought a bit of anger, and ohhh Thursday night I was totally bargaining: ‘if I make it through at least one month can I leave?’ Most likely depression was mixed into all of those, which leads us to the ultimate stage, acceptance. Considering that I just laughed at myself when I wrote that I’m loosing my life, I think acceptance is on it’s way. Sara, who is my volunteer coordinator and fellow American volunteer, reminded me of why she is still here: these children, all 165, have no choice as to where they live. I must take a moment to say that this is one of the top 3 orphanages in Guatemala, meaning that by other standards this is an excellent place to be raised. However, while this may be true and all of the kids seem like normal, functioning, happy, and cared for individuals; the truth of the matter is that this is not a summer camp (which is kind of the feel/look of it all). No this if their life for possibly 18 years. When this perspective is considered, how can I not put aside the selfish side of me begging to return to a place that does not have cockroaches in the same frequency as ants in America (I’m just going to need to forget my germa/entomo-phobia for the next 6 months), where I have my own bathroom sans toddler diarrhea, or even where my day is my own?
Honestly, in the end, I know that I am not loosing or missing out on anything. I have so much to gain by this experience, even if it is just a good preparation for dealing with my own kid’s bathroom issues. As a good and wise friend recently encouraged me “the only things you have the potential to be missing are the moments you don't live in while you are, where you are.”** And with those wise words I leave you all to retire to mi cama. 9:30 no longer seems like such an early bed time with a 6:30 wake up call looming in the distance. I can only hope that the pending morning does not involve another wake up smell as well ….
More updates to come once the new week begins!
* So what if the Kubler – Ross model was the topic of my senior thesis …
** Thanks Sara Buxton :)
Where most of my down time will be spent ... in the clinic
The massive garden which provides a good portion of our fresh food!
I love the colors!
Noami is quickly working that smile into my heart :)
Hasta Luego!
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