today was raw

We all had a difficult time getting out of bed this morning, as we were exhausted from the Bahir Dar trip (I will share many weekend adventures later this week when I have some time). I had an abnormally tough time getting a bus to work, so I had to make a detour, and when I arrived the head Montessori teacher was not there. So, I got to be the main teacher for the morning lesson. As I have mentioned before, at Asco a teacher's authority and respect is gained via swatting the children with tree branches, and since I disapprove of this approach I have a much more challenging time getting the children to focus. I tried many different activities, half of which many have been successful, and after practicing numbers, letters and colors we had sports class, which went well. During snack time I go and visit Nigistine, one of my sweet friends in the sick room (I'll tell you more about her some other time), but today she was preoccupied, so I assisted this woman and her two kids who came from outside to see a doctor. Unfortunately I do not remember this woman's name, but she and her kids were incredibly kind and patient as we walked around for 45 minutes trying to locate the woman who made an appointment with her. Since the orphanage compound is huge and there is no communication system, we were unable to locate the woman, but we sent her to the clinic anyway.

Habtamu, the 30-something-year old fatherlike figure to many of these kids, was a huge encouragement today. Previously, as he has observed my silly behavior around the kids, he told me that he thinks 'crazy people are the closest to God,' which I can only guess is a compliment. Anyway, as we were both running around the compound this morning, with a vibrant smile on his face, he assured me that when we are busy with God's work we do not tire b/c we can call on him to renew our energy. Little did he know how much I needed to be reassured of this truth today.

During free time, Caleb (one of the younger kids that should be in the sick room, except he drives the nurses crazy, so they send him to my classroom) stole Leaha's shoes. As I have previously explained, these kids have NO personal possessions (they even share toothbrushes and underwear) but I have noticed that they do not share shoes. Thus, stealing shoes is kind of a no-no. As Leaha is bawling b/c her shoes are on Caleb¹s feet, I try to rectify the situation, but, as usual, I make things worse. As I took Leaha's shoes off Caleb's feet and tried to replace them with his own shoes he FLIPED OUT. He did not stop screaming until I sent the kids off for lunch 1 hour later. So many of the children CRAVE individual attention, but its so hard to love each child when there are 59 others begging for love at the same time.

After lunch I had a couple primary school classes in the afternoon. Then, as all the children were dismissed from classes, I saw the previously mentioned woman and her son and daughter outside of the clinic in tears. She said "Flicklick, my son is dead!" I did not understand, since she told me earlier she came to get ART's and get her children tested for HIV. She and an Ethiopian friend, Abraham, spoke quickly in Amharic, then he left and she continued to cry. I was in a state of frustration and confusion. I wanted to mourn with this precious woman, who was clearly in pain, but all of the primary school kids were gathered around her as if she were about to do a trick at the circus. I sat with her for a while until the doctor called her back. Then I gave her kids long hugs, and after asking God what the heck I should do, decided it would be best to take all the students back towards the dormitories.

As we were walking back, one of the 3rd grade boys fell over into the construction dust (tell you about the construction site later...so ridiculous). As I was already irritated and internally angry, I yelled at the children who were mocking the boy who just fell face first into a pile of dust. I gave him water and my sweater to wash off his face, and tried to restore his dignity as waves of emotion passed. In the middle of trying to clean this crying child¹s face, I was struck by the horrible truth that these kids do not have parents. His 500 brothers and sisters were mocking his tears and he had no mom or dad or grandma to hold him and tell him that even though friends are mean it is going to be ok. Gosh, this orphanage is so much better than living on the street, but at the same time, everything about the orphanage SCREAMS that God created us to live in families and desires for us to have parents. My heart breaks for these children. They are not asking for pity. They just NEED love. They need more people to hug them and kiss them and reassure them and guide them through life.

A short while later Abraham explained what happened to the crying woman. She had given one of her children to an orphanage, as she was unable to take care of him. She was told by this orphanage (not Mother Teresa¹s, but an orphanage on the other side of Addis) that her son was adopted and was now living with a family in the states. I am very unclear on the details, but it turns out this was a fabricated story. Rather than living in the states, her son has died. Some of the children knew her son, and attended her funeral.

I was immediately furious when I heard the story. Whose vicious idea was it to lie to a mother in this way? Is ignorance really bliss? Either way she would probably never see her son again, but the hope of his brighter future and opportunity is the opposite of death. There are so many complexities that I do not understand. It is part of Ethiopia culture to mourn much for the dead, and I cannot imagine not being able to go through this crucial process for a child. Had she spent days daydreaming about her child's new life? What made her decided to give the child up in the first place? Did her children know what was going on?  After mentally placing blame on many unknown people, I realized that blame shifting is a lame approach processing the painful piece of life this woman just experienced. My heart breaks for this woman. I hope that she is able to turn to Jesus during such a painful and shocking day of bad news. I cannot even imagine the suffering in her heart. What a agonizing piece of news to receive.

I was silent on the walk to the bus stop, until my friend Bizahyo took my hand. She is one of many street kids in the neighborhood of Asco who asks for money and candy and bread. Unfortunately I already gave away all of my bread, but it was delightful to smile with her as many thoughts ran through my head.

The thing is, it was not a bad day. I know that God uses situations like this to teach us about life the human condition and Himself and grace and beauty. I also know he uses the foolish things to shame the wise. And that he is compassionate and loving and can work through us to show others himself. Nevertheless, today was raw.