Just another relaxing Saturday…

April 29, 2008

A typical Saturday…staff meeting at 8:30 and the clinic opens as soon as we are done (usually at 9:00). It is often busy at first, but abruptly slows down. Around 10:00ish, a few children start to hang around outside.

There is a long wooden bench that can seat about five uncomfortably that is placed just to the left of the front door and beneath a window, and this is the first area the kids congregate. Some walk right in and help out with translations. This is a catalyst for even more children to show up. Luckily privacy is not a major issue in the culture, and they have never heard of HIPA.

…there is good and bad there….

Before we know it, about fifteen to twenty of the orphans are hanging in and around the clinic, for a job that requires three. They are on the benches, on the mama’s who are sick themselves or with their sick children, peering in the window, sitting in all of the chairs……everywhere. Why? Well, on Saturday as a treat to us and them, the orphans get to clean the clinic all for the price of one allowah, or candy that resembles a jolly rancher. So a few of the really anxious ones will start to sweep and mop over patients feet, make a little dust cloud here and there. Reading and writing about it paints a very cute picture….working in it does not…always….

From time to time we shoo-shoo them away, but eventually as the line of patients dwindles, so does their ability to stay away, and we accept that once again we will organize and pick up where we needed to during the week and not on Saturday.

This was the last Saturday of the month, which also makes it birthday….day….

Most Sudanese have no idea how old they are or what day they were born. Orphans, well, they are quite the same. Harvester’s does like to celebrate birthdays as a reminder of the day God brought them into the earth, gleaming with life. So, your birthday is chosen based on the month one arrived at the orphanage.

This month the women here made a piñata….and perhaps the last time they will do that. I was late to the birthday celebration, but when I arrived…..let’s see…..there was what resembled to be a series of benches turned over as a pseudo barrier to hold everyone back and not be struck like there were the piñata; and it appeared as though that lasted about 10 seconds. There was a moderately sized hole that was already knocked out, from my angle, in the upper right-hand portion of the predominately red circular paper mache piñata. This allowed for a few of the sweet…sweet morsel of allowah to occasionally spill out.

Remember, these guys will sweep and mop the floor of the clinic for just one.

Well, just moments later…..pandemonium. The hole grew larger, and you know…just enough candy spilled out, that like that dwindling line of patients…..this too was far too much for any of them to resist, and we have to accept that we cannot prevent it any longer.

Perhaps it only took one or two of the children to start….what I can only refer to as a full scale invasion. The pushing, the shoving, and then……..oh…….the crying….

I really was surprised by the extent to which some were upset. There was also punch and my new favorite…seriously….glucose biscuits. The punch is spilling everywhere as they guard their allowah and glucose biscuits at the expense of punch. Now, some are slipping on the wet floor, and they start crying.

Now….I showed up late. Please keep in mind the truly frustrating part is attempting to establish order, maintain it, and then watch it crumbling before your eyes…..I guess like a glucose biscuit hitting the punch soaked floor. So, as my blood pressure rises and I begin to think of reasons why I need to leave, I can see it on the faces of the other missionaries……defeat, wrapped in frustration. I can feel the hand of God touch my shoulder and say something to the affect of…..you’re not leaving….not without helping out.

Then it became clear that most were focused on two children, Jeremiah and Sarah Lilly. Jeremiah had been crying for the better part of twenty minutes because he never received an allowah, and Sarah had just started since she slipped on the wet floor.

If you ever make it out here, keep this in mind. Children cry here for the same reasons they cry at home, but they keep crying for different reasons. Here, they simply do not get enough attention. They are not held as often or in the same manner as a mother and father holds their own children. Even then, with the culture, most fathers are not around, physically, emotionally, or spiritually. Mothers DO NOT have the time. They bear the burden of cooking, collecting water, gathering wood for a fire, cleaning, and that, I am sure, is only a small part of it. To give you an idea, for breakfast at 7 am, the cooks wake up and get started at 4 am. All we eat is oatmeal or porridge, but with a wood burning stove that is how long it takes to get it ready. House cleaning….imagine that with dirt roads and sidewalks outside of your 10 square foot tukel with a dirt floor for a family of 5.

…..yea…WOW…..

I really went off there….so please keep this in mind….that is not meant to arouse any guilt or shame, but rather gratitude….gratitude for the things in which God has blessed each of our lives with.

so…..now….back to Jeremiah and Sarah Lilly……all they wanted to was attention. In fact, Jeremiah stopped crying immediately after he was picked up and carried outside in a way that can only mimic what a father could do. Sarah Lilly is a bit older, in pre-school, so carrying her and Jeremiah just wasn’t possible, so she joined by holding hands.

A nice spot of grass was picked out in the courtyard outside of the cafeteria and between the boys and girls dormitories. It was a nice day….hot, but a good breeze, a few puffy clouds, and by the time we sat down……a sleeping Jeremiah, and a slightly whimpering Sarah Lilly, who sat to our right while we faced the cafeteria. Jeremiah sat with his forehead against my chest, with a leg on each side, and now…a big spot of drool on my shirt. Eventually Sarah Lilly’s back side felt better after her fall, and she dosed in and out until it was time for chores 45 minutes later.

In the mean time, a whole slew of the kids joined us. Some sat on my shins, most played with my kawaaja hair, which is not getting very long, that they are just curious about.

By the end….my hair is a mess, completely covered with the dirt and grime of a dozen 2 year olds running their hands all through it. My shirt is sweaty from Jeremiah’s nap and wet in some combination of drool, tears, and his runny nose. Now, my spirit is alive and clean. Once again, filled with the joy of realizing what was important and thankful to God for asking me to stay and how He showed me to help out.

Thanks for reading….this one has been eating me up…..on a side note…I thought this one would be half a page long….hmmmm…..sorry.