Alex smiling and laughing. I can't say too much about it. He's bigger. He should be; he's 10. Mexican hat dance: check. Pretend that the hallway is filled with ninjas and secret agents as we get out of the elevator: check. Armwrestling where we each win an equal number of times: check. Laughing cause my romanian sucks: check. Saying all the words he can pronounce together cause they're almost completely composed of vowells (Ohio, Iowa, Oaia, Buna, Leo, Lingura): check. Him getting all pouty cause I have to go do stuff with other kids: check. Building a huge clown block tower and then "accidentally" knocking it down and laughing hysterically: check.
Larisa is big. She is at a healthy weight. Her surgeries are complete. She can stand up. She can walk a little with assistance. There was a time when I thought that was probably never going to happen. She remembers many of the little things we used to do: oase (bones), bate palma, the cum face game. It is not like I imagined reuniting with these children would be. It is like going home for Christmas. I go back and have a sweet reunion and the same problems are there. But I love the problems. That is what is authentic in the experience. And God (not in vain) I sure love these kids.
Walking home from the hospital today, I started realizing how much I detach myself from the emotional aspect of the experience. I maintain my functional role and put on a happy face (cause I am), but the details of the experience are not affecting me much. I don't have time or emotional energy to contemplate each rain drop of depressing details. And why should I? If it keeps me from what I am here to do, what good is it to me? For instance, I'm walking from the hospital and we talk about how some of the children/babies struck us as heartwarming or cute and one girl says, "It's just so sad that they don't have mom's there." And I think to myself that I wasn't even considering that anymore. I just think, well let's go find those kids whose diapers no one is responsible to change and change them. Perhaps we will also get to play with them and make them laugh and feel a little more comfortable. I'm not thinking about what's not there that should be there. That's just territory like contemplating your own death or anticipating the end of a significant relationship. It's like peeking behind the scenes at Disneyland.
Some things I need to know though. One of the girls in my group I felt terrified for momentarily. As she finished changing a baby, a nurse came in and explained in romanian that the baby had syphilis. I had her quickly wash her hands with soap and clorox and soap and more clorox. A bit before that, she asked me, "what's syphilis?" My mind had a brief flashback to my sex ed ed class nearly a year ago, namely the pictures and symptom list. I had a quick daymare about her contracting this and not knowing until she came home.
The older kids are a little bit different. I was wondering why they wouldn't respond to us at first and then I was thinking what it would be like if I was in the hospital as a child and some Russian lady I didn't know just started asking me if I wanted a balloon or to color in a coloring book in broken english. I'd be like "Lady, who ARE you? I don't want to blow bubbles, I want my mom." I totally got this kid to play war with me though. He wouldn't even look at me at first. I finally know enough romanian to kind of warm up to these kids now I think whereas before it was an icebreaker for them just to know how silly we sounded trying to garble out a few phrases we could get out of the anxiety pinched hoses connected to our limited reservoir from half paid attention to language lessons.
Speaking of that, our group is learning the language really well. I love seeing them going for it and talking to people and practicing. I'm pretty sure many of them wonder if I know what I'm doing most of the time. Sometimes I see situations and remember where someone else had handled the situation appropriately in the past. And I envision the feeling associated with that, but can't put together the words I would need to convey that or even the attitude I need, because of my energy level or my attitude.
I'm gonna sleep now. More this weekend probably.
Larisa is big. She is at a healthy weight. Her surgeries are complete. She can stand up. She can walk a little with assistance. There was a time when I thought that was probably never going to happen. She remembers many of the little things we used to do: oase (bones), bate palma, the cum face game. It is not like I imagined reuniting with these children would be. It is like going home for Christmas. I go back and have a sweet reunion and the same problems are there. But I love the problems. That is what is authentic in the experience. And God (not in vain) I sure love these kids.
Walking home from the hospital today, I started realizing how much I detach myself from the emotional aspect of the experience. I maintain my functional role and put on a happy face (cause I am), but the details of the experience are not affecting me much. I don't have time or emotional energy to contemplate each rain drop of depressing details. And why should I? If it keeps me from what I am here to do, what good is it to me? For instance, I'm walking from the hospital and we talk about how some of the children/babies struck us as heartwarming or cute and one girl says, "It's just so sad that they don't have mom's there." And I think to myself that I wasn't even considering that anymore. I just think, well let's go find those kids whose diapers no one is responsible to change and change them. Perhaps we will also get to play with them and make them laugh and feel a little more comfortable. I'm not thinking about what's not there that should be there. That's just territory like contemplating your own death or anticipating the end of a significant relationship. It's like peeking behind the scenes at Disneyland.
Some things I need to know though. One of the girls in my group I felt terrified for momentarily. As she finished changing a baby, a nurse came in and explained in romanian that the baby had syphilis. I had her quickly wash her hands with soap and clorox and soap and more clorox. A bit before that, she asked me, "what's syphilis?" My mind had a brief flashback to my sex ed ed class nearly a year ago, namely the pictures and symptom list. I had a quick daymare about her contracting this and not knowing until she came home.
The older kids are a little bit different. I was wondering why they wouldn't respond to us at first and then I was thinking what it would be like if I was in the hospital as a child and some Russian lady I didn't know just started asking me if I wanted a balloon or to color in a coloring book in broken english. I'd be like "Lady, who ARE you? I don't want to blow bubbles, I want my mom." I totally got this kid to play war with me though. He wouldn't even look at me at first. I finally know enough romanian to kind of warm up to these kids now I think whereas before it was an icebreaker for them just to know how silly we sounded trying to garble out a few phrases we could get out of the anxiety pinched hoses connected to our limited reservoir from half paid attention to language lessons.
Speaking of that, our group is learning the language really well. I love seeing them going for it and talking to people and practicing. I'm pretty sure many of them wonder if I know what I'm doing most of the time. Sometimes I see situations and remember where someone else had handled the situation appropriately in the past. And I envision the feeling associated with that, but can't put together the words I would need to convey that or even the attitude I need, because of my energy level or my attitude.
I'm gonna sleep now. More this weekend probably.
2 comments:
I used to do the block tower thing with Alex too, did I tell you? It's so fun to make him happy. It seems like you're good at it. :) Nothing says amor and dedication like being willing to make a fool out of yourself. :) I love your blog because you write it through "going back again" eyes instead of "OMG Europe!" eyes. Keep it up!
That's cause I totally swiped your motha f*&^in' records!
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