5/31/11

I am home now..back in Bangor, Maine. I ended my blog abruptly on May 22nd for many reasons, but mostly because May 23rd was a tough day and I have not been able to put it into words. I now feel that it is important to share the events of that day.

On May 23rd my son Quinten turned 15. It was difficult to be so far away on his birthday. I know he understood but I couldn’t help but feel some guilt. I still feel some guilt. I have since found out that he made some bad decisions while I was away. Tough stuff.

I woke that morning with Quinten on my mind. Skype failed me and so I ate breakfast and got ready to head to the Kinder with a group lead by Kristen to perform a play on recycling for the children. Kristen’s project was centered around teaching children the concepts of reduce, reuse, and recycle. The play was brilliant but unfortunately the children did not sit quietly and listen. It seems that they are not ever made to sit quietly by their teachers. We had to shout our lines to the children and even then I think that only the kids in the front heard us. The saving relief to the morning for Kristen was that, as we left, we overheard a teacher reinforcing the concepts to her class. If a change is going to be made, it starts with the children. I know that Kristen’s work made a difference.

After lunch we headed to San Jose for our last day. We walked the hill with heavy hearts. I knew it would be tough… but I had no idea. When we arrived we found the children outside on the playground. They loved this area. It was a beautiful spot with green grass and fun outside equipment. It was nice to see their smiles. I found my little man and he found me. Of course he asked for my glasses. We sat and hugged and smiled.

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I tried hard to play with the others as well, trying to remember the words of the worker several days before. This was my last day there and it would be hard for both of us when I left. While pushing some children on the swings, Arias asked to be picked up. It was incredibly hot outside but I couldn’t say no. I held him and pushed the others. I eventually got him into a swing and pushed three at a time. While pushing the boys I caught a worker out of the corner of my eye hitting a child with a shoe. At first I felt that i must have been seeing things and so I continued to pay attention to this woman. My fears were correct. The child had taken his shoes off and she picked up the shoe and hit him with it. I looked around in desperation to see that the two other workers had witnessed this as well. I was the only person who was bothered by it. I stood with a huge knot in my stomach and my mind racing…did I say something or let it go. My mind brought me back to my sociology and anthropology classes where we talked about cultural norms and differences. It was likely that this, although disturbing to a Mom that has never spanked a child, was a norm here in Honduras. The woman was not beating the child, but she was hitting him. I was and still am trying to rationalize. You could see the frustration in her eyes. She was overwhelmed and overworked. Even so, I can not and will not ever understand how a person can hit a child. I kept looking around for answers but the other workers witnessed and did nothing. I spoke with other students too and none of them seemed as concerned as I was with the situation. I felt helpless and sad. I felt, and still feel angry and emotionally charged. Over the next hour I witnessed the same worker hit another child with a toy, lock a child in a closet with no windows, and pick a child up by the arm and drop him. I also witnessed her kick a child in the back of the knees for wanting to be picked up. That child was Arias. There are no words to express my feelings of guilt, sadness and anger. I sat motionless, unsuccessfully trying to fight back tears.

The nun came out to announce that outside time was over and so we headed inside. It was time to say our last goodbyes. A women entered the facility and Arias ran to her with full force. She picked him up and loved him for a minute. She tried to put him down and he refused. After a couple of minutes of struggle she handed him to a worker and ran out the door. Arias stood screaming and crying at the gated entrance for the women. I asked a worker who the woman was, thinking maybe she was his mother. She was a woman that often came to help with dinner that he had become very close with. He continued to cry and scream. I tried to calm him but he did not want my arms. Others tried as well, but he wanted nothing to do with any of us. After a couple of minutes he found his thumb and soothed himself. It was well beyond time for us to leave and so I tried to say my goodbyes. He would not hug me or kiss me or even give “fist bumps”. I felt tears swelling up in my eyes. He walked away to the bathroom to wash his hands and I stood motionless. Just before turning the corner towards the bathroom he turned his head and flashed a giant smile. That smile will be in my heart forever.

Two days later we arrive at the airport in San Pedro Sula. While waiting in line for coffee I see Susan and Sophia, the women from California that had been helping in the orphanage during our stay. Susan is smiling bigger than I have ever seen and can’t wait to share news with us. The catholic church has agreed to hire on three more full time workers to help at the orphanage. I share in her excitement and explain the frustration and violence of the worker that I had seen on my last day there. Susan is shocked and vows to make this known to Sister Maria. She promises me that Sister Maria is kind and loving and will not tolerate this kind of behavior. This eases my pain… but only a little.

A piece of my heart stayed with the children of Hogar San Jose that day, but in particular with a boy named Josue Arias. The image of him being kicked for wanting to be picked up makes me sick. I only hope that I did more for him positively than negatively.

I am thankful that I saw Susan at the airport that day and shared my concerns. I am thankful that she is in turn, sharing her concerns with Sister Maria. I am not a religious person but I do believe that things happen for a reason. Josue Arias came into my life for a reason. I met Susan and Sophia for a reason and I know for a fact that this will not be the end of this story. I look forward to seeing my little man again.

I am home now in The United States of America. I am in a clean house with clean water and electricity. I do not fear for my life from violence or disease. I do not wonder if my next meal will be nutritious or warm. I have my children and my family that love me and that I love very much. I am lucky and thankful to be an American. I hope that every person reading this takes a minute to be appreciative for what they have. Even if you have very little, there are people that have it worse than you. Don’t ever take that for granted. I know I won’t. I am forever humbled by my experience and I will always have a place in my heart for Josue Arias.