Be Strong

Be strong for the kids,  I thought as my hands shook and my stomach did flips, ending in one big knot.  Could he really not see the expression on my face as another child was hit?  I had started my day by mentally preparing myself for what I would do or say if it happened again.  Clearly my mind was occupied, and as I stood up from the table at breakfast, I caught my foot on my skirt and hit the deck – hard.  I guess a little laughter helped, and everyone at the hotel told me I needed to rest, perhaps the explanation for my clumsiness, but that wasn’t the real reason.  I wondered if today would be the same, and by 11:30, so far so good, until about 15 minutes before I was to leave.  Damn – now came the hard part.  Biting my tongue from the vulgar language that was on the verge of spilling, and holding back the tears that were ready to fall.  Yet again, the children looked to me as I bit my lip and watched as one of the girls cried at her desk.  Again, I felt like I was letting them down.  They looked to me for help, they looked to me to say the things they couldn’t…. but I couldn’t either. Not then and there at least.  I envisioned myself walking up, putting my arm out and saying if you want to do this to them, then do it to me too while finishing by breaking the cane and walking out.  But that would merely be disrespectful, and that’s not the imprint I plan to leave.  Instead, as I heard Godwin pull up to pick us up I asked to speak to Emmanuel outside.  On a quick side note, this doesn’t make him a bad person (hard for me to truly believe that) but this is somewhat socially accepted in this culture, even though I think it’s completely, and 100% wrong.  As he stepped outside, I’m unsure what shook more, my hands or my voice.  I looked him in the eyes, and it was clear that mine were swelling with tears, and I said “I will not remain in this classroom if you continue to hit the children.  This is not how this orphanage will be run, and Kelsey will be speaking to everyone about it also.”  There is more I wanted to say, but I knew it wouldn’t be nice, and I couldn’t stand there for a second longer.  By the time I walked the 20 feet to the car, tears were rolling down.  I was sad for the children, I was hurt that I felt I let them down, but even more I felt angry.  How could anyone inflict pain on a child, helpless and innocent.  Because she got the wrong answer?  Because they didn’t know who existed in a nuclear family?  And for teaching a bunch of orphans about “family” I’d also disagree with his definition of what a family is, but that’s besides the point. 

When I returned to the orphanage today I wanted to tell them don’t worry it’s over, he won’t hit you again, but as they smiled and laughed, I knew that nothing needed to be said.  Maybe they would never realize that I did in fact stand up for them, and that’s fine.  But knowing that I had something to do with the reason that things changed for them was enough for me.  I could have sat silently and enabled, for lack of better words, but I didn’t.  These children are amazing, and yes they have flaws, and yes the may act up, but they are children; they put their pants on the same way as any other child does.  I want so much for them, I want them to feel happy everyday and never have to worry, but I know that I can’t do that.  I can love them, and share their laughter, and give them attention, and if nothing else, I can leave knowing that for 5 weeks, I brightened their world. 

I learned a game today, a simple clapping game, with some foot movement.  It took some time to get coordinated (and I still have a ways to go) but it was fun for them to be teaching me something new.  I teach them everyday, but they have a lot to share with me too.  We played for an hour at least, and even as the rain fell, we played and laughed and nothing else mattered.  The pain I felt from earlier was washed away by the smiles and laughter.  These children are strong, and resilient, and I admire that.  But today, I stood up and was strong too, despite any fear or worry I had about offending anyone.  Last night I had bad dreams, and was so restless.  I’ll sleep easy tonight, knowing that tomorrow will be different.  Tomorrow, they won’t shed tears of pain.  Tomorrow, they may participate more, without being afraid.  Tomorrow is a new day, and marks the start of change, and as we all know, you’ve got to start somewhere. 

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I – I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.”    Robert Frost

When you smile, I smile... When you cry, I cry...

The days have been eventful since I last wrote.  Sunday night ended with the chase down of a giant spider in our room.  Both Jess and I are afraid, and as I sat and watched it crawl along where the ceiling and the wall meet, I waited for her to get off the phone.  Realizing her fear was just as great as mine, we called for Wallace and Princela, the two who work at the hotel, and I’m almost certain we made their night.  Wallace marched in very serious with a chair and a rag, and Princela followed, laughing at the crazy “yevus” who were afraid.  The whole ordeal took all of 5 minutes, but the laughs continued for a while.  As we yelped and screamed, she laughed so hard, and Wallace stayed concentrated.  Our fear was funny to them, for these encounters are simply normal in their lives.  That night did not provide the most sound sleep, but better than I had expected, considering I was fearing waking up to one next to me.

Monday we went into school with a hopeful attitude, as we planned to work one-on-one with the children.  During the morning, I worked with 4 different children, starting from the basics in Math, of the ones place, and the tens place, and having them use crayons as counters.  We did piles of ten, showing that each bunch represented 1 number in the tens spot.  For 24, we had to piles of ten, and 4 ones.  They need to understand that the number 2 in 24 is not just one, two, but instead it is 20.  Hard to explain in writing, but they seemed to get it as they physically moved crayons around.  One-on-one was both rewarding and frustrating.  It was great to see the kids understanding, and getting caught up, because in class when they don’t understand, they just fall behind.  There is no help for them.  Some children struggled even with my undivided attention.  Joseph especially had me struggling to find new ways to explain the concept.  “What’s 7-4?”  His response?  “10.”  I could understand if he said 11, for he would have been adding, but the numbers he responds with are not even close, and most of the time he guesses.  I did all I could for the day with him, but plan to revisit it later this week. 

Monday and Friday’s are market day, and after we finished teaching we got dropped there.  It is rows and rows of venders basically, selling fabrics, food, spices, shoes, shirts, beauty products, and so much more.  It is slightly overwhelming, and easy to get lost in the many rows.  We found a woman selling flip-flops, and decided to get some for the kids.  Many of them wear shoes that have holes in the heels, and at 1.5 cedi per pair (about 82 cents) we bought 6 pairs.  In addition, we ended up buying bread for ourselves, and some fresh mangoes and pineapples. 

Who knew that shoes would be such a hit.  Even more exciting than the jump ropes and puzzle.  The children were ecstatic, and we could see the sadness in the eyes of the children who had not gotten any.  Without a question, we knew we needed to get more.  It rained while we were at the orphanage, so the children sat and read books to us, and played games like connect four.  It was really amazing to see all of the children with books in their hands, the older ones reading to the younger ones.  The sense of family is so apparent. 

For some reason I tossed all night, and struggled to get out of bed today.  I guess you could say I started on the wrong foot, but I tried to go into the one-on-ones hopeful.  I saw three more children today, and had to spend a longer amount of time with them.  The concept was a definite struggle today.  But when they feel accomplished, so do I.  When they feel happy, I do too.  And when they hurt, I hurt even more.  Today was one of the hardest days here so far.  Using a stick as discipline is often something that occurs in this country, and I had experienced it last time I was here.  However, that was the last thing I expected to see at this school.  It happened right after break, and as I entered the room, there were a couple children lined up at the front of the room, and they counted as they got slapped with a stick.  Johannes returned to his desk in tears after 5 or 6, and I stood up and walked out for two reasons.  One, the tears were nearly breaking, about to roll down my face, and two, if I didn’t leave, I can’t promise the words that would have come out of my mouth.  As the children turned around and looked to me as if to say “please do something,” my heart shattered into pieces on the floor.  Jess asked how I dealt with it last time, but it simply wasn’t the same, as bad as it sounds.  I taught those children for a couple hours each day, and that was it.  These children I spend 6 hours with on average each day.  I know them more, I see them outside of school, laughing and being kids, and I felt sick walking away today.  This is a problem that needs to be addressed, for we are not seeing it in any other classes, and I would imagine that Kelsey has hopes to move away from such a manner of teaching.  I spent the time between teaching and the orphanage resting, napping for a bit, and hoping to clear my head.  I feel everything these kids feel.  Their laugher makes me smile, their tears hurt my heart, and I truly wished it was me up there instead of them.  No child should have to endure that, and then be afraid of being in class, for a wrong answer can lead to a smack. 

I tried to put it aside when I went back to the orphanage, but it made me want to scoop them up and walk them right out.  They smiled and played like nothing happened, but it was still in my mind.  I’m about to scrap the one-on-one and tell him to leave for the next 3 weeks, give them some relief.  But I know I can’t, because the one-on-one is the only thing saving some of these children from falling too far behind.  I can only hope I don’t feel the pain again tomorrow.

I could never leave with just one...

As we lay in bed, the fan keeping us cool, we hear the sound of electricity shutting down (Friday night).  No storm, no wind, just suddenly it’s gone.   The power was out from about 10 last night, until 11 this morning.  After having breakfast, we headed to town to do errands for the orphanage.  Walking in the hot sun is exhausting, but some color on my skin is nice – maybe I won’t stand out AS much!  After the bank, we went in search of fabric for the kids for the sewing project.  There are so many shops with fabric that it is overwhelming, and just when you think you like one pattern, you see another.  We have yet to pick out fabric for our own dresses, but in time.  We got about 8 yards for the kids, and can’t wait to show them.  Yesterday we had purchased buttons as well, so we hope they will make school bags for themselves.   On the way back to the hotel we stopped in a chemical shop in hopes of restocking the first aid boxes, but had little luck with finding what we needed.  No band aids, no alcohol wipes, or medicine for upset stomach.  Perhaps it was because the person selling the items was in fact a child, no older than 13.  On our way back to the hotel, we came across probably 15-20 men and older children (all boys) carrying machetes, walking towards us.  The road for the hotel is off the main drag, but only about a minute walk, and that is where we saw them.  We got the usual “yevu” calls (white people) and the how are you but as we got closer we saw them crowded around something on the ground.  When the men stood up and began walking, one was carrying a HUGE snake.  One whose diameter was probably that of my calf, and had to be over 3 feet long.  With goose bumps, even in the hot sun, we hurried along hoping they too moved past.  When we were back to the hotel I asked if there were snakes around here and Princela told us no, but we are not sure if she meant in the hotel or in the town.  I will be sure to ask Godwin next time we see him, for that is an uneasy thought to have, that there may be those snakes in the grass.  Later in the evening while talking to my dad, he asked me, “What’s more alarming, the big snake or 20 African men with machetes?”  Well when you put it that way… I’m not sure of the answer!

            After relaxing and reading, sitting outside for some time, we decided to head back to a different part of town in search for the rest of the medical things we needed.  We were in luck at one shop, and 56 cedi later, we had everything crossed off the list but one item.  All that we have bought the orphanage already has only come to 85 USD, and we still have a lot of money that we raised left, which is a promising feeling.  On our walk back we were approached by 12 or 13 year olds at a boarding school, who talked to us and asked for our address.  Jess and I were both a little taken back by that, and wondered if that was their doing, or if someone had told them to.  We are not in danger by any means, we just need to be aware of not giving out our information – already a given as we have always been told “don’t talk to strangers!”  Soon after that encounter, we were followed by a 3 year old and his 6 year old sister.  The boy ran behind us for a couple of minutes, before turning to a side street.  It still amazes me that the color of your skin can bring about so much attention.  But it was the same when I was here 3 years ago.  Whether it is because of money, or because they know we are here to help, the fact remains that we seem to be put on a pedestal, and at times it can be overwhelming.  But I never get sick of the tiny ones on the street who yell “yevu” and as we wave, their faces light up.  A simple hello can change their day.  

Sunday’s are the day of rest here, and all that is heard outside is that of drumming, singing, and clapping.  Church is such an important part of the peoples lives here, and perhaps that is what makes them such genuine people.  I have been told by many people here that they will pray for me at church, and only wish for the best.  Each day we are thanked by the people of Happy Kids, and constantly reminded that we are doing great work, and they are immensely grateful for us.  Although most of the day was spent lounging, reading, and lesson planning, in the late afternoon we headed to the orphanage to meet the children and walk to field to see a soccer game.  Emmanuel coaches a team and had invited us to watch the game.  We had a great time, getting a chance to hang out with the kids and see some soccer at the same time.  Jessie and I talk about if we were to take a kid home with us who it would be, and I don’t think I could walk away with just one.  These kids melt my heart and keep me smiling.  Wisdom, Joshua, Bless, Lucy, Moda, Roland, Bright, Thompson… the list would be a mile long if I tried to name ones I couldn’t leave behind.  Shadrack is another one on the top of my list.  He is in my class, and also lives at the orphanage, and that boy will be a heartbreaker some day.  With a smile that lights up the room, and a slight giggle that makes me laugh myself, he has never been sad since I have been here.  Just a shot in his direction and the smile comes to life.  Today at the game he would giggle when I looked his way, and while swinging him in the air, he screeched sounds of joy and laughter.  All of these children have touched my heart so much and I could never take one without another but something about this one gets me.  He is a quiet, soft-spoken boy, but has smile that says a thousand words.   A photo will never do justice or let you hear the giggles, but he is on the right, next to Bright in yellow.  

African Union

The boy from the hotel, Guidian (I’m unsure how to spell it!) came back last night to visit.  He said that school was going so well and he was happy to be back.  While we used the Internet, he sat and talked with us about school, and what things are like back home for us.  I asked about the seasons here and they really only have two, and he was surprised to hear me talk about how much the weather changes back home.  I talked about snow, and showed him pictures from the October storm we had this year.  He asked so many questions; “How do you get your gate open if there is snow?  How do you get to work?  How do you get from your car to work?”  His voice is soft spoken and he is genuinely interested in what I have to say.  After talking about it and answering his questions, he said to me, “Blacks would not survive there!!” with a giant smile on his face, and a little giggle as he walked away.  He is so down to earth and just loves to talk and learn about our lives, just like most of the people here. 

Things feel like I never left at this point.  The daily routine seems normal, and I wish I could be here for a longer period of time.  Although things probably have been sounding negative, it’s merely frustration.  But at the end of the day, I am happy to be here.

Today was a holiday, African Union, so the children were off from school.  We took advantage of that and slept a little later.  We decided to walk to town to do some errands because one of the sewing machines at the orphanage was broken.  They needed a new piece, and the woman who teaches the children was supposed to come today.  Halfway to town it began to rain, just our luck.  The weather changes so quickly here, but the rain never lasts too long.  We stopped in to see Divine, a seamstress that made dresses and bags for me last time.  She took our measurements for a dress, all we have to do now is pick out the fabric.  The rain continued so after we finished Godwin came to get us.  Not even 2 minutes after he picked us up, the rain stopped.  Tomorrow we will try to walk through town again, fingers crossed for better weather!

We arrived at the orphanage around 11:30, and the kids were happy and welcoming as usual.  We had planned to play soccer yesterday afternoon but they practiced sewing, so we promised them today.  By noon we were at the field, poor planning on our part as the sun was directly above us.  It was overcast, but that didn’t matter, because as I sit here and write, I am burnt to a crisp.  I can’t say I’m upset, because a little color is nice, but I’ll make a mental note to put sunscreen on, despite the clouds.  We played for 2 hours, until everyone gave up due to exhaustion.  The kids love when we play, and after I had scored 5 goals, they said, “best player in the world!”  They are always amazed by us, not matter what we do, and the unconditional love they give is something I cannot describe.  Their whole mood changes when they get to hold your hand, or sit on your lap.  A young one who was watching soccer laughed when I kicked and missed, and as I chased him down to start a tickle war, his laughter carried through the field.  He screamed with excitement and giggled so loudly he made everyone laugh.  They just want attention, and to feel loved.  And seeing them smile because of what I do is priceless.

After soccer we went back to the orphanage, and made them hackie-sacks with some scrap fabric and dirt/stones.  They were fascinated for a little while, but the concept is foreign to them, and the soccer ball is more exciting.  We bought the ball early this week, Monday maybe, and it is already ripped and looks 10 years old.  They play so often that they go through balls like crazy.  The quality of the balls here are not great either, and I now wish I had brought some from home.  They are making plans to sew it together or tape it up, making do with what they have. 

The seamstress did not show up again today, and it has been almost two weeks now.  It is discouraging because these children have talent, and they are SO eager to learn.  A woman who had promised Kelsey that she would be there 3 days a week, has clearly broken that, and it is awful to see.  Jessie and I can only help them with so much, and at this point they probably know more than us, they just need the practice and guidance.  Hopefully next week she will come….but we can only hope. 

No major plans are ahead for the weekend, but tomorrow we have errands to run in town.  We need to go to the “chemical store” or pharmacy as we would call it, and get supplies to fill their first aid box, both at the orphanage and school.  The children have had a purple liquid put on their wounds, and we are concerned as to what it is.  We have seen it on their heads, legs, and even in their mouth, quite alarming because it says “for external use only.”  Tomorrow we will try to ask the people at the store what it is, and make sure this is not harmful to the children. 

It is hard to believe I left home over a week ago.  Time has begun to fly, and my attachment to the children grows so much each day.  They represent hope, wisdom, and strength.  They have dreams and wishes, and believe in change.  If I have helped them in any way to realize they are worth so much, then I know I have made an impact. 

“Think of whatever you are doing as an adventure and watch your life change for the better.”

Just keep swimming

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Frustration has set in, and Jessie and I both seemed sour today.  After spending hours in the dark without power last night, we looked forward to a new day today, but obstacles stood in our way.  There are so many things that should be happening, but so many things that aren’t.  I am here to help and teach the children, but also I am here to help the teachers learn new ways to engage the children.  It is awfully hard to do so when the teacher does not come to class.  Emmanuel is great, don’t get me wrong, but for me to be left alone with 14 children (more kids come each day) whose primary language is Ewe, is simply not okay.  To teach the children English, they need to be talked to in Ewe, and that is where I need the help of the primary teacher.  I found myself taking a deep breath and thinking “one step at a time, take a breath and remember all that you are doing for these children, just keep swimming...”   The frustration was flowing out of my body, and perhaps it was visible but I tried my best to hide it for after school.  Volunteers from CCS, the company I went through during my last trip, came in to teach hygiene to 4 of the classes.  While they were teaching Jessie’s kids she came to watch me teach.  She sat in the back of the room with Emmanuel and simply watched.  Later when we talked she told me that it killed her not to help, that she wanted so badly to help check the children’s answers to the problems I had on the board and help those who were struggling.  She told me how she couldn’t believe that Emmanuel doesn’t help.  He just watches me struggle at times.  He will tell me at the end of the day how well I am doing, but sometimes I want to say “could you give me a hand??”  Fourteen English second language children are very hard to teach.  The teachers can’t keep leaving our rooms while we teach, because then they are not learning successful ways of teaching.  Another major issue that is occurring is that at noon, when we leave to go for lunch, Emmanuel is leaving also to go to town…. So who is teaching my children??? NO ONE.  I got back to the hotel and was fuming.  The only thing these children are learning is what I teach in the 3 and a half hours I’m there, half of which they may not understand because of my English.  How do we interject and tell them they need to be active in this with us, but not step on anyone’s toes or over step boundaries??  This is a problem, and it needs to be addressed, but the “how” is something I am unsure of.  

Today was broken up, thankfully, with worship until 9 or so, and the 15 minute break while the other volunteers did their health lesson.  Although it sounds like a bad day, there were parts that I found to be helpful.  They really enjoyed using flashcards and themselves as props to math problems.  I gave each child a flash card with a number on it from 1-100.  Then I would call on two children and they would show their card and we would decide if they wanted to add or subtract, and then we would do it as a class.  They loved getting up and moving around, using something different, and it was much more fun than sitting at desks doing 5 problems on the board.  I know I am doing great things, and patience is a virtue ( I believe that even more so now), but there will be good days and there will be bad days.  I’m learning to find the good in each.

  The hotel is great, relatively speaking, but already I am seeing struggles with my diet.  Chicken and rice or potatoes every night is not healthy for me.  We eat eggs and toast in the morning, but such a lack of veggies is hurting me.  I feel lethargic, and look tired even when I get rest.  An occasional protein bar is good but I’m lacking so many major parts to a healthy diet that I can feel the effects.  Tonight we went out to “Obama’s Garden” for a drink with the two CCS volunteers that were at the orphanage today.  Although it was a little hairy walking there in the dark, it was a nice change of pace, and fun to get out for a couple hours. 

Each day when we go back to the orphanage after school I see the love the children have for each other, and such a strong community within.  I watch the older boys pick up the young ones, and the girls read to the others.  As we walked back from the field, I held hands with the young ones, and Wisdom, the 14 year old, held them tight on the other side.  As I said yesterday, this is a family, and they are so solid, a bond that will stay for a long time to come.  They realize they come from different places, and for whatever reason, they are now at the orphanage, but they all have that in common, and that makes them brothers and sisters.  I’m so grateful to be a part of this family, and know that they will always have a place in my heart.

“In order to see where we are going, we not only must remember where we have been, but we must understand where we have been.”

"On your mark, get set, go!"

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

The concept of a “race” doesn’t really make sense to the children.  And I quickly found out that “On your mark, get set, go!” is not a saying they understand.  I learned all of this in class when I thought it would be fun if we played a game in order to practice plural words.  I prepared two lists of 12 words last night, and today divided the class into two teams, thinking they could race.  There were words written on the paper that were plural already, and they were supposed to make them singular, and visa verse.  Sadly, the race was a flop, and only until the last two words did they understand what was going on.  It was a learning experience for them, and for me too, to gauge how much of what I say, they actually understand.  Each day, however, I see the gap between children widening, and some are falling behind.  Today we got a new student in the class.  She walked in and sat down, no paper or pencil, expecting to learn. It still amazes me how they are expected to learn without means to do so.  As I began to teach pronouns today, the language was a barrier again, as I told the kids that pronouns replace, or substitute nouns.  Neither “replace” or “substitute” are things then understand, so Emmanuel had to jump in and speak in Ewe before we could continue.  The sentences they were writing using pronouns were good today, but each day I find they have forgotten over night.  They complete their homework, but I know they are not getting much help on it, and certainly not practicing outside of school more than they must.    

After school today we traveled to town to pay for Internet to be hooked up at the hotel, and finally it works!  But as I sit here and type this, we just lost power.  Perhaps tomorrow we can try again.

After school, we returned to the orphanage as we do each day.  Today we brought a pad of paper and 3 boxes of crayons for the kids.  They were so very happy, drawing pictures for us, for their rooms, and might I add, some kids have great talent.  Nelson took my camera to take some pictures and I was amazed at how good they were, better than mine.  He would get at the right angle, and the right height and he truly has a skill.  We told him in America he could do that and make his money, and smiled.  I worked on a small puzzle with Wisdom, and when we finished, I watched him as he counted each piece to make sure they were all there before putting it away.  Such a simple thing, but I think about back home and how the children throw their toys in the bucket or misplace pieces and don’t care.  These children take pride in their toys and the gifts we give them, and truly handle them with care.  Yes they are children, but they are just different, more mature.  After coloring and doing the puzzles, we took them to the field so they could play soccer with the ball we had bought them.  While there, 3 or 4 older children had come over and began to pick on our children.  I could tell it was happening, but they spoke Ewe, and I could not understand what was being said.  Wisdom, the extremely responsible, diplomatic 13 year old came over and I asked him what was up.  The kids were upset they couldn’t have the ball and play soccer, and seeing that Wisdom was talking to us, they then looked to us and spoke English, trying to explain themselves.  We simply said no, we are playing and left it at that.  But it was clear they kept teasing, and one of our older boys looked depressed as we left the field.  They had been putting their hands in his pockets and laughing.  What is our place here?  Can we step in?  Or is it out of line?  Nothing was said, this time at least, but I can assure you if it happens again, it will be taken care of.  Another thing I wondered as I watched it happen was about stereotypes.  Do they have those here?  Are the children from Happy Kids Orphanage made fun of for being orphans?  Are they teased because they are different from others in the sense they don’t have a family consisting of a mother and father?  But is that even fair to say?  What is even “normal” these days regarding the make up of a “family?”  I will try to remind them that family is not always by blood.  The children are all a family; they pick each other up and dust them off when they fall.  They may argue, but what family doesn’t?  If nothing else, at the end of the day, they fall asleep knowing they are never alone.  They are a family, each with many brothers and sisters, and people who watch over, but all I say, is the more the merrier.      

"Teacher, teacher!"

Monday, May 21, 2012

Today was my “first” day of teaching in my eyes, as I entered the day actually prepared this time.  After struggling a bit Friday due to the lack of prep time, lack of pencils, and paper, I knew today would be much better.  Over the weekend I had sharpened a pack of pencils, enough for my whole class, which started the day off right.  In order to help them with their math (2 and 3 digit addition, moving into carrying), I used the pencils as counters, having them make bunches of 10 to signify numbers in the tens spot.  So I would write a number, such as 21 on the board and they would make two piles of ten, and put one single pencil next to it, to represent 21.  Such a simple idea but they absolutely loved getting up and moving around, something I feel they don’t often do.  When I handed out the pencils to them, their eyes widened, and many thanks were spoken.  Something as simple as a pencil is a day changer here.  The school contains both children who live at the orphanage, and outside children as well.  Only 2 or 3 of my children are from outside of the orphanage, and since the rest are orphans, generally paper is hard to come by.  Today I had to rip pages from my notebook to give to Bright, who has nothing.  These children are expected to learn but how can they without the necessary tools? 

Following the math lesson, the children had break, at 10:15, where they get to play with the other children or use the “bathroom,” the fenced off area in the back.  After returning, at 10:30, I began English.  Although I speak it, and write fairly well, teaching the English language is not easy, especially as I am not a teacher.  Donations from the daycare back home provided us with some teacher guides that I have been using to help me.  Today I worked on the basics of sentences: noun (proper and improper), verb, and adjective.  I had each child tell me a proper noun, improper noun, verb and adjective, creating a large list for the class to understand the difference between each.  The language barrier can be a struggle, and although they speak English in class, the accents often create problems.  I had a child repeat himself 3 times before others chimed in to help, and although they giggle, I know that they don’t always understand me because often there is silence.  Emmanuel sits in the back of class sometimes and speaks in Ewe to them to explain what I have said, when I receive the blank stares.  After creating the list, I wrote some sentences on the board and asked the kids to tell me which word was the noun, adjective, or verb.  There is such a great gap between children’s abilities in class.  About 4 of the children did the sentences quickly, and correctly (the same in math), but there are others who are slower, and 1 or 2 who I sit with for an extra 5 minutes, but they still don’t get it.  This is where I struggle, because I know those 2 kids are falling by the wayside, but I can’t stop class and let the others sit for 10 minutes while I work one-on-one.  This is when the teacher in the class, Emmanuel, should sit with the child struggling and assist during the practice problems, but that doesn’t happen.  There is no “No Child Left Behind” act here, or teachers’ aides.  If a child struggles too long, it is as if they give up.  It is a different world, but it saddens me to see it happen, and although we will make great imprints while here, we cannot change their way of life, nor should we.  We are not here to CHANGE, for that would be wrong.  We are here to help, to show them ways to improve with what they have at hand.      

After teaching, we headed to town to buy little booklets of paper for the children in our classes, some erasers for the boards, and a couple of other supplies.  In addition, we bought them a new soccer ball.  When we went back to the orphanage after they finished school, we brought them the soccer ball and again they were so grateful and came to say thank you.  Today they practiced sewing.  Once a week a local seamstress comes to teach the children how to sew, and they have made bags already, with zippers and all.  But today they just took out the machine to practice.  They have two, but a piece on the other one is broken, so the 11 children who participate, had to share one machine.  And half of the time was spent replacing the broken needles, until they had no more.  Jessie and I plan to go get more for them, and also get needles to teach them how to hand stitch.  She suggested teaching them to make hackie-sacks, cutting two round pieces, sewing them together, filled with pebbles from the ground.  We are learning to use the surroundings to create items they could replicate when we are gone.  We did, however, bring them the jump-ropes that we had bought back home.  Something new is always fun, and the kids were loving it.

I hope that when (or if) Internet is more accessible (as in, at the hotel) that I can post more pictures, and blog each day.  But for now, I will continue to write and upload them when I can.  I can only hope all is well back home! 

“ Do no follow where the path may lead.  Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.” T.S. Eliot

Big Hearts, Big Dreams...

Sunday, May 20, 2012
I had hoped to be blogging daily but with the lack of Internet, things didn’t turn out as I planned.  And once getting on the Internet briefly on Saturday, some of my things (such as email and Facebook) got hacked into, so an apology for that as well.  Things have become easier as the days passed, and the initial shock has dwindled.  For the first time in a very, very long time, I spent a day doing just about nothing, absolutely relaxing and reading.  It felt a bit strange, and as though I should be doing something else but it was much needed time for myself. 

Friday was the first day of teaching and again, the initial plan did not turn out the way we thought.  I’m quickly remembering that “plans” don’t really work here.  Time is not of the essence and twenty minutes generally mean thirty.  The “plan” was to observe the classrooms and decide where we would provide the most support and help, and also chose which age group we were most comfortable with.  But we got there and were quickly directed to two different rooms, Jessie in KG1/2 (our kindergarten) and myself in P1/2, first and second grade.  Keep in mind, things are very different from home.  In my class I have 13 children, ranging in age 7-14, an enormous gap in terms of brain capacity and learning ability.  I was unprepared to begin teaching, and at first I remained on the side as an observer, grasping where the children are, and where they need to be.  But the teacher then said “I need to get a book, I will be back…” and an hour later, he did return.  So I blindly jumped in and started by getting the kids up and moving, using them as props in their own addition and subtraction problems.  I managed through that morning, feeling overwhelmed and later frustrated after finding out from Kelsey (head of projects at the Orphanage, Cali local who I met 3 years ago and have been working with to plan this trip) that Emmanuel is not even supposed to be teaching!  Huh…. This will make for an interesting road ahead. 

We returned in the afternoon to play soccer with the kids, which was a blast.  They loved ever second of it, so proud that we were joining them.  “I’ve got the white” they would say as they marked us.  It still amazes me the way they play so well together.  There is only an occasional disagreement, quickly resolved, and play continues.  Back at the dormitories, Lucy, a breathtaking “thirteen to fourteen” year old was preparing food.  I sat in awe of her, simply watching her.  I hope and pray that some day something amazing happens for Lucy.  She has taken on a mother role at a young age, and is incredibly mature.  Watching her with the young children is something that I struggle to put into words.  She is so caring and gentle, and genuine, perhaps what makes her even more beautiful.

The weekend consisted of going through our bags of supplies for the children, sharpening many, many pencils, and planning what we would teach for the upcoming week.  Today (Sunday), we woke to drumming and singing – church.  Our initial hope was to get to town and buy some supplies, like paper workbooks for Jessie’s class to take notes, seeing as they have no paper.  But Sunday is a day of rest here, and all of the shops were closed.  We were invited by Emmanuel to watch a soccer game he was coaching and when Godwin came to get us he asked how we were as he always does, but when I asked him the same he said “very very good!”  His usual response is “I am fine,” so I inquired as to why he was so very good.  His response?  “Today is Sunday! I love Sunday, it is my day of rest.  I go to church and I may work a little but I rest, and get ready for my week.”  I sat and listened and thought to myself back home I hate Sundays, knowing the workweek is coming.  Our views differ but I understand his feeling.  Sunday is his only day of rest and break from the long days.  Another reminder that the things we despise may be someone else’s joy.  

The game never actually happened, as the other team did not show up, but we spent time with the kids, which is always a joy.  When returning to the room, we had no power (actually we hadn’t all day).  So the hilarious and adorable boy (Guidian, age 17 maybe?) who works here, brought us a candle and melted the bottom, stuck it to the floor and said “there is light!” Guidian, will be leaving tomorrow to return to school.  He told us his story, of how he works very hard to make money to pay his school fees, for his mother has passed and he does not want to burden his father.  But “don’t’ worry, I will be back at the weekend” he said with a smile, something that rarely leaves his face.  There are truly amazing people here, with hearts bigger than imaginable, just as big as their dreams.

“Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Let your mind be free..."

Thursday

So many things have changed here, a slightly overwhelming feeling to be honest.  The house I stayed in last time no longer has volunteers, so we really are the only whites around here.  We did not wake up until noontime here, 8 AM back home, so much of the day was gone.  We traveled to town with Emmanuel (the son of the woman who runs the orphanage) to get phones, and exchange some money.  The next stop we made was the orphanage, to meet the children living there.  There was no school today so the other 110 (or so) children were not there.  As we walked in each child welcomed us, as they simply expressed “you are welcome.”  We walked into a sea of children sleeping, while the older ones catered to us.  They brought chairs and ushered us to sit.  The curiosity of the children amazes me.  It is something familiar yet so foreign to them, as new volunteers arrive.  It is not the first time they have seen white people, or yevu as they call us, yet they stand back, timid with curious eyes.  We played mancala, a game we watch the children play at daycare, but it was not the same.  Where as children here would argue at the hand of another child coming near, these children worked together, gracious of the help.  We spent about two hours there today, as they toured us around, showing us the field they play “football” in (soccer) and the classroom building that was built within the last two years.  The girls insisted on holding our hands as we walked, just wanting to be close and feeling loved.  The classrooms are nice, relatively speaking.  From others I have seen in the town, these children are fortunate to have so many people who care about them and wanting make change happen.  Each room has paintings on the walls, a solar system in the younger children’s classroom and world maps in the upper levels.  Tomorrow we will return to observe the classrooms and find the areas need the most help and decide what we can do to make some strides.

One thing that struck me today was how motherly the girls act to other children.  They take on the roles at a young age of caregiver, walking around with younger siblings or friends holding on their backs tightly.  Back home so often it is almost every man for themselves, as we hear children bickering, “he said/she said” conversations, and tattling on eachother.  Here a young one got hit in the head and knocked to the ground by a soccer ball and Wisdom, the boy who kicked it came over and held her while she cried.  At home a “sorry” would have occurred and children would go back to playing.  A sense of community exists among these kids, and kids they are, being only 7 or 8 years old.  It is so eye opening to watch, and it is clear their mentality is so different to ours.

A comforting piece for everyone back home would be that we have some people truly looking out for us.  Emmanuel took us around, helped us buy phones to make sure that we were charged the right amount, and made a point to call and make sure we made it back to the hotel just fine, actually calling both Jessie and I.  Godwin has checked in once today and plans to get us tomorrow morning to go to school.  Hilda, the owner of the hotel had words of wisdom for us also.  She told us what to be careful of, not to instill fear, but so we are aware.  Each person we meet welcomes us, again stating “you are welcome.”  Hilda left us with a piece of advice for our night.  “Release yourself, let you mind be free, and just be happy.”  This was a simple reminder to me that happiness is the way of life here, something everyone should work towards.

Travel/Arrival

Wednesday:

They say things happen for a reason, and I do believe in that.  But there are times when I wonder why now? Or what is this supposed to be teaching me. The drive to the airport turned out to be an eventful one, and after one stomach bug and 28 hours of traveling, we made it to the hotel.  I enjoy traveling, flying especially, but when being so ill, that was the last thing on my mind.  We ended up in the middle row on each plane, two center seats with each having someone else on our other side – hot, sick, cramped and exhausted made for a long journey.  To see a familiar face was most comforting though, as we got picked up at the airport by Godwin, a former cab driver from my first visit.  That seemed to ease the mind some, a familiar face in yet an unfamiliar world.  Although I have been here before, change can be overwhelming, no matter how prepared you are.  From one world to another, literally, in a day, shock to the body and mind is inevitable.  The first days may be rocky with the adjustment, but a routine will form, much like back home, and then my mind will be a bit more at ease.  It is now 1 AM here (9 PM back home) and I have never been so excited to put my head down on that pillow.

Off to Ghana

It feels like only days ago that the decision was made to travel back to Africa, but in reality, it's been months of anticipation.  As I lay in bed on my last night home, I watch TV as I do every night, and use the many other "luxuries" we have here in America.  I'm wondering what they are doing now... I fall asleep to the sound of the TV merely as background noise, clearly not a necessity.  And they fall asleep to what?  Dirt floors, and mosquitos looking for fresh meat. But there is more than what we envision, more than just negatives.  They fall asleep to the sound of music from the Churches, and the singing in the streets.  Those sounds are that of hope, happiness, and celebration to be alive, despite any hardship.  And if there is none of that, there is silence, something beautiful that we rarely experience.  It's the little things we take for granted that they could only imagine.  The "I needs" exist here more often than the "I want" but even so, those "I wants" are rarely spoken there.  Despite the hardships, life feels simple there, and people are grateful simply to wake up each morning, something we all could learn from.  I am so excited to finally be getting back to the place that opened my eyes, and changed so much for me.  But more importantly, I am grateful to be so loved and supported.  If I can impact these children's lives in ways that so many people have impacted me, I will have made a difference, and that is all that I can hope for.