I expected to heave my heart torn at the orphanage that we visited. It was, but not in the way that I imagined. Honestly, I was embarrassed. I was sheepish that my status as a blanc from America gave me the right to waltz in on an adventure, and interrupt their routines. Immediately, we were treated as honored guests, given the best seats and sang to. We had brought our pity, but it was quickly devoured by a stronger feeling of respect, because what we discovered was dignity, resourcefulness, ingenuity, creativity and purpose. Beauty unexpected.
We came on vacation, and were met by people who were giving their lives and resources to make their corner of the world better. We were humbled, inspired, and enchanted.
Thanks to Menchies for their unintentional, but generous, donation of tattoos. (ie the free tattoo pile next to the register...)
Aidan and James
Poverty is more than a lack of material resources. Poverty is a more soul encompassing and crippling, and it can be found in the richest of homes. Here we found people who have less stuff than we do, but a faith that is alive, purposeful, and practical. We found future leaders in impish little faces. Determined students. Playfulness, curiosity and joy.
These kids don’t need our pity or some misguided superiority complex desire to “fix things”. But they do deserve a chance to make the most of their gifts, talents and crazy good soccer skills. This little guy (below) was so hilarious. He guarded his goal with the intensity of a momma chicken protecting her chicks. One shy little fella kept coming by to touch my arm and say my name. He was proud that he remembered my name. I tried to reciprocate, but when he would tell me, I couldn’t understand his French Creole. So I tried to fake it, and he seemed satisfied with my grin, and butchering of syllables.
The fiercest little goalkeeper
Tim Howard better watch out!
