So, it was decided that we were heading out Friday morning after breakfast to a nearby orphanage. We hadn’t had time to do any research, so none of us knew what to expect. The van picked us up early, and we headed out. Interestingly, the night before, everyone gathered many of their clothes together, along with pens and pencils, and a few other odds and ends, and pooled them to be taken to the orphanage in the morning. This was the idea of our young people, who, even before meeting the wonderful people at the orphanage, were already in ‘HELP’ mode!
The ride to the orphanage was short but full of nervous anticipation. It was palpable in the van. I think it was all completely quelled when we pulled into the Kidane Meheret Children’s Home. Near the entrance was a beautiful new church, and beyond the fence, several buildings, all in pretty good shape, with a central playground area, complete with jungle gym, basketball goals, an open area for playing field sports. Below us was a fenced-in area with some outbuildings where a few goats lived very comfortably. There were some nice ladies busy hanging ou laundry on some clotheslines just above the ‘barnyard’, and beyond this area few buildings that we assumed were where the children were. We were met by a very nice nun. She was a slightly stout little lady, short in stature, and constantly smiling. I kept listening to her accent, trying to pick up a country of origin, but I finally had to ask where she was from. She was from Malta, as was the one other nun who worked there at the orphanage. They are Franciscan sisters. Their care and compassion for the children were continually evident throughout our visit as I watched them interact with the children, and watched the children’s displays of affection for them, and for all the workers there.
We were led into a small classroom full of preschool-aged children. They had a wonderful teacher, and young woman from Austria, and she was allowing us to come in and completely disrupt her class. Before chaos ensued, however, she had the children sing us two greeting songs in English! After that, it was complete chaos as most of us moved into the classroom and began conversations with the children, taking pictures, handing over our cameras to the children to take pictures, etc. Everywhere you looked, children were climbing around on one or more of our folks, and it was wonderful! One little boy with Downs syndrome, whose name was Jonas (pronounced Yo-nus) sat on my lap for some time, playing with my beard. He had a fascination with my goatee, and he just kept talking to me while kind of flipping it with his hands. As we talked and played with the children, I remember looking around the room and welling up with tears, watching these students immerse themselves into entertaining these children any way they could. Some of these children, we were told, are HIV positive, some are permanent residents, and some come for the day, so that their mothers can go to work to try to make a living. This scene went on for some time, and I hated to see it end, but eventually, we seemed to all spill out onto the courtyard and into the playground. The children played and giggled, and had one or the other of us lifting them onto the jungle gym’s various swings and ropes. Some of the children played soccer with some of our folks. They played with a rag ball at times, made from something stuffed inside an old sock. Some older children began to also appear in the yard. We were introduced to two young men, about 12 or 13, whose stories struck a place deep in my heart. Both had been rescued from the streets only about two months earlier, where they had been smoking hash, sniffing glue, begging, prostituting themselves. And here they were, two of the nicest young men once could hope to meet! In their eyes, however, one can clearly see the pain of their pasts. Beyond their thoughtful and friendly smiles were hidden the sad, desperate faces they once wore. The good sister told me that she was still a little worried that they may leave again and return to that life, and that she prayed often every day that they would stay in her care and continue in school. My prayers have been added to hers.
We also met a set of three sisters, the oldest being about 12, and the youngest about 3. It was so touching to see how the older sisters passed back and forth the responsibility for watching over the little one. One or the other was constantly holding her or walking her around the yard. There was also another young girl of about 10 or 11 who had a baby sister. We were told both of them were born HIV positive. For now, at least, they were both very healthy.
The remainder of our time at the orphanage, we were all split up and exploring on our own, or with the help of one or the other orphanage personnel. There was a physical therapy room in one of the buildings where a therapist visits several times a week to treat both the residents and cared-for children, and some community children who are allowed to come there just for therapy. Our physical therapy doctorate students were obviously very excited by this, and the thought of perhaps coming back sometime to help out in such a place!
I happened into one of the rooms to find one of our students, a nursing student, and herself a mother of two, being read to by one of the young girls, while another little girl looked on and stroked her hair. It was a quiet, thoughtful, beautiful moment.
Looking back, it seemed that we were at the orphanage all day! We crammed so much into a few morning hours, but it was all so meaningful and rewarding that it felt like an eternity. At the same time, when it was time to leave, we were all very sad. I am a pretty emotional person, as any of my friends can tell you, and it took a lot for me not to just sob as we walked back to the van. Looking over my shoulder at these beautiful children, thinking about their individual stories, where they came from, where they may end up....it was almost too painful. Yet, as I looked skyward to keep tears from rolling down my face, I was reminded that there is this wonderful God in control, the same God who brought the good Franciscan sisters to this place to see that these children are cared for; the same God who led someone to rescue those two boys from the savage streets; the same God who helped children overcome terrible disease to live healthily among all the others. I quietly prayed a prayer of thanks, and then I busied myself thinking how I could help them, even after returning to the states.
We all piled rather quietly into the van, everyone seemingly deep in thought. We were taken to have a quick lunch, which, for the life of me, I can’t even remember. That period is all a blur.
After lunch, however, we were taken to the Myungsung Christian Medical Center, a Korean Presbyterian hospital. It is a private hospital, but they do a great deal of public medicine there. We were greeted by Dr. Scheul, a Norwegian trauma surgeon, who escorted us to a comfortable board room where he shared with us a presentation of what his practice at the center had become; He treats lots of trauma cases resulting from (big surprise!) traffic accidents....mostly pedestrians who have been hit by vehicles, as well as building accidents resulting from (again...big surprise!) people falling from the spindly scaffolding they use to scale the sides of construction sites. He is also a trained vascular and thoracic surgeon so he covers a great deal of those types of surgery as well. He also introduced us to Dr. Ericksen, a plastic surgeon, who specializes in burns, primarily from natives cooking over open flames, and also cleft lip and palate reconstructive surgeries. Dr. Ericksen also presented some slides of some of his most interesting cases. Both these Norwegians have been practicing in Addis now for about 18 years. They are dedicated and compassionate men.
Before leaving, we gathered outside with the doctors and presented them with a few Shenandoah University-related gifts, and had a group shot taken with them. I was very impressed by the doctors...in fact, briefly considered ways I could don my old surgical technologists hat and go back and help in some way.
Well, our busy Friday ended with us going out to dinner at an incredible (to me) place. It was the Makush Restaurant and Gallery of Art, featuring local Ethiopian artists’ work, all for sale! Not only was the food fantastic, but the art work was exquisite! I wanted to buy quite a few, but was constantly reminded how I would never be able to safely carry anything like that back on the plane! My only recourse was to take photos of some of my favorites to share with folks back home.
Back at the hotel, it was time to pack up to be ready for Saturday, and our trip home. Oh, Lord......please help me get all this stuff in my luggage and still not be over the weight limit!
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