We finally made it today to the orphanage. It was a group trip which was not as weird as I’d thought it might be. The orphanage turned out to be typical in many ways that I expected but I also came away with some welcome and surprising revelations.The area itself was quite beautiful. The grounds are spacious and well maintained. It was relatively clean and organized. It is quite large and has many buildings. There were infants quarters, a house for the girls and separate for the boys. There was a church area, clinic, dining hall, basket ball hoops and an area for volunteers who plan to stay for awhile. I did not take many photos because I felt I could never capture what I was seeing. I think it needs to be more than random photos, quick shots designed to elicit certain emotions. Maybe next time. Maybe after I've had a chance to spend some time.
When we arrived, most of the kids were at church. The babies were not and so we began with them. Typically heartbreaking, if such a phrase exists. The ones who could walk ran up with arms aloft, aching to be held. The ones that could not move just sat and cried. I picked up one small baby girl crying in the porch area. She was surrounded by flies and had an odor that I can still smell 9 hours and a hot shower later. I eventually managed to calm her and could not imagine how I would put her down again. Giving her to another adult was not an option as they were clearly busy with dressing some others and sorting through clothes. The hallway was scattered with babies sitting quiet and alone.
The handout of stuffed toys and lollipops began, and the children were happy. I managed to put my little princess down, rubbing her back and letting her play with my bracelets as I watched, with a mother’s horror, toddlers roaming with pops in their mouths. Some wondered how to open them while others were unconcerned about the wrapper and just began eating. I left her with a beaded memento and made my way outside. Children were all over, grabbing for sweets and plush toys. I could not really make sense of this scene, again feeling great waves of uselessness washing over me, threatening to knock me down.
The cry of my little friend brought me some purpose and I went back inside to see what had happened. It is difficult to know with a baby. I found Gloria lying on the floor clutching a stuffed seahorse someone had given her in exchange for the bracelet. I sat her up and patted her back. It seemed something was wrong with her foot- polio?- but it wasn’t really clear. Her eyes became focused on another child’s lollipop. She watched expectantly as an older girl opened the wrapper and then gave it to the toddler. This brought a fresh round of tears. I was really impressed by the young girl who, after a moment of consideration, reached into her pocket and took out her own lollipop. Gloria licked her lips. I’ve never seen a baby do this and all I could think of was how hungry she must be. She was pacified by the pop and I left her sitting there in the hallway.
The rest of the tour was equally heart wrenching. So many children and so few resources. It can be easy in this situation to make judgments and assumptions. Though I heard some, I tried to steer clear myself. I cannot really comprehend the daily management of four hundred children needing to be washed, cleaned, fed, supervised, entertained, held, attended to and kissed goodnight. Some things get sacrificed.
I was left to wonder what kind of life these children could aspire to. What is waiting for them? But it was comforting to know they all attend local schools. There is even some collaboration being worked on to connect the local English language institute with the older students. The language institute teaches them English and prepares them for tests that will enable them to apply to foreign colleges and universities. They also help with researching scholarships and visas. It is a broad gesture.
But I imagine the babies growing up in this life, detached and neglected in all but the most basic of needs and I wonder what is possible for them. This, just one orphanage. The feelings of inadequacy wash over me like huge tidal waves rolling in the open ocean. It’s too big of a picture with no solid ground in sight. Endless.
There were several other visitors to the orphanage that day and it is a successful place in the balance of things. I’m told we will do more with them as a school next year. And I can see the benefit of going just to read stories and hold some kids on my lap. It feels like a grain of sand.
I can’t understand why am I so content in Africa? In the midst of all this desperation and frustration, I’ve never felt so peaceful and complete. I can’t imagine being in any other place. There’s nowhere else to go. I did realize on the way home (that famous Kinshasa traffic so conducive to self-reflection) that perhaps my identification comes from being an orphan myself. For all intents and purposes, that is what I’ve been. Just now, I understand.
The children have actually formed a queue here to receive a treat. Many try to jump the line or get doubles but it was quite organized and calm compared to the earlier stampede for plush toys. One boy is holding a baby. I saw lots of tenderness between children here as well. They are caring for each other. 
