Soledad on Children's Day
“It would be better to have internal pins but we can’t do that here…” The trauma doctor at the hospital in our little town was talking to me, Naomi, her mother, and Emilianne (her house parent). It had been a very long Tuesday, going from the Rurre hospital to the one across the river and back again. I really didn’t want little Naomi to have external pins. Aside from the fact that no 9-year-old should have to go through that, everything gets infected at Familia Feliz because of the intense water contamination and that was something I did NOT want getting infected. However, it was beginning to look like our only option. “Ok, we would like to have the surgery here.”
Naomi was admitted and spent Tuesday night along with Wednesday there. Thankfully, her mom was granted permission to stay with her there and therefore I was able to spend some time taking care of the other sick kids at Familia Feliz.
Thursday morning came bright and early as Alex drove me to the hospital to pay for and be there for Naomi’s surgery. When I arrived, the gate to the patient hallway was locked with a sign saying it wasn’t visiting hours. I went to the front desk and explained that I needed to enter to the secretary. After 35 minutes of waiting and then reminding her that I needed to get in and pay them 500bs for the surgery, she told me to follow her. As we arrived back at the gate to the hallway, I could hardly see it over all the heads of family members waiting impatiently for visiting hours. Without even looking in my direction, the secretary said under her breath, “Go down that hallway,” and walked away. I looked around, confused. There was one hallway, dark and empty, to my right. I quickly decided to walk down it and try my best to look like I knew what I was doing. At the end of the hall were two double doors with signs all over them saying “do not enter”, “area prohibited”, and “operation hall”. I pushed the doors open and found myself in another hallway. Operation room 1, operation room 2,… soon I was at another turn. I took it and saw doctors and nurses walking toward me. For a second I was nervous, but then I remembered I was wearing my scrubs which happened to be the same color as theirs! So I kept walking as confidently as I could. Finally, I heard the cry of babies and saw the searched-for sign: “Pediatrics”. There was Naomi! She had her surgery a few hours later and did well.
After assessing Naomi on Friday morning, the doctor decided she should stay another night. I kept asking why. She was on an antibiotic every 6 hours, but nothing else, and the hospitals here cause more infections than they fix. Finally, after much discussion, he agreed to let me take care of her and she was discharged, with the agreement that she would return for him to check in the morning.
Our unfortunate Sabbath morning tradition of having to go to the hospital was upheld, and we waited for the doctor for 2 hours. I don’t know if you all ever watched Quigley’s Village (a Christian show for kids) when you were little, but I did and loved it. I found it in Spanish and Naomi and I spent our hospital time watching it with the little old man next to us. Finally, the doctor checked her arm and sent us home until Tuesday. I got back in time to make food for the Guerreros and take a nap.
Sunday was rough. The leones were all tired and fought with each other, cried every few minutes, didn’t want to eat their food (too many onions!), and one of our littlest’s got stung by a bee mid-temper tantrum. But that’s just how some days are with that many little ones! We enjoyed cooking and taking care of them and juggling which crying one to hold at a time.
Bairon got his cast off on Monday! Carlo’s dad arrived for a visit as well, so it was an exciting day! I spent another half of my Tuesday day off at the hospital with Naomi, but it was rewarding, because the doctor agreed to let me care of the wound at Familia Feliz for the next two weeks! The rest of the day was spent resting and hanging out with the sm’s and Carlo’s dad.
By Wednesday, I had slept in my hammock in the clinic for 4 nights, monitoring Naomi and giving her night medications. I was tired, but getting naps and surviving. I walked down the stairs to my house to give a medication and was met by about 30 soldiers! The army had come to celebrate Children’s Day, which is a national holiday here. They had fun activities, their band, and gifts for the kids! While they entertained the younger campus citizens, I worked with Carlo’s dad on making Carlo’s birthday cake, because it was also his birthday! He had been saving mint oreos since we arrived in August and they were going to be turned into a mint oreo ice cream cake.
Obstacle courses with the army
The army also cut many of the boys' hair, which was super helpful for me!
Birthday party!
Hermana Emi is taking some math courses in town, so I spent three hours teaching her algebra, followed by cutting some more hair at the Guerreros. As evening was coming upon us, I heard Bayron, the oldest Guerrero, yelling my name. “Justin is hurt!” I went to the door to find him leaning over the pavement, crying. There was a small puddle of blood in front of him which I soon realized was coming from his mouth. He had been hit by a falling chair on his lip. I gave him some toilet paper (our version of yes, toilet paper, but also paper towels, napkins, counter cleaners, etc.) for his mouth and hugged him till he stopped crying. After a few minutes of cleaning up, I checked again. Ohh. His cheek had a big hole in it. He needed stitches. Thankfully, Carlo got back to the house right then and agreed to come help.
After we arrived at the clinic and set up all the supplies, Carlo opened Justin’s mouth and held it still as I numbed and stitched it closed. “I’m a dental assistant!” Carlo said partway through. “I’m a dentist!” I said nervously. Justin was the calmest patient I’ve ever had, didn’t even flinch. We finished and took him back home. I can’t say I feel called to be a dentist now, but I have a lot of respect for those who are!
Thursday and Friday were full of more math teaching and haircutting. Carlo and I decided to learn how to do a fade for the little guys in the Guerreros. It was quite the challenge! They didn't come out looking too bad though! It may take some time to get the hang of it. We also said goodbye to Carlo's dad, who flew home Friday morning. It was so nice having him here!
Our second subject. He was very patient and it turned out quite well! (Sadly, my phone screen broke and I had to buy a new cheap phone here. This is the point in the blog where you start getting the 8mp camera photos!)
I took care of Naomi’s external nails on Friday, which was really interesting. They were healing nicely and she wasn't in too much pain. Sabbath was the first time I’ve felt a little homesick since I arrived. Alumni weekend was happening at home and it was so far away! I enjoyed listening to the program as I monitored the Guerreros sitting in our church.
Sunday and Monday flew by, and I found myself thinking about a topic I haven't discussed much this year as I was cooking Monday's supper. It's one of our biggest struggles on campus. It infiltrates every house, every classroom, every day, every little circle of kids. A constant battle, it’s sexual abuse. Most of the kids have been raped, molested, or hurt by other forms of sexual abuse prior to arriving on campus. Bringing 100 children who have that kind of trauma together is dangerous, because kids copy what they have had done to them. That’s why I’m on recess supervision. It’s not to make sure a kid doesn’t run away or get hurt, it’s to keep one 5-year-old from raping another. The struggle of healthy sexuality on campus is something that was absolutely horrifying when we first arrived. “Why can’t we just fix it?” was our beginning question. The problem is so much deeper than that though. It’s still extremely sad, but we’ve learned to keep it an open and constant conversation, never leaving a group of kids alone and putting much of our energy into teaching them how important and sacred they are to God. Our little house of Leones boys especially struggles, and so much of our time on Sunday is spent counting to make sure our boys are all within sight.
I was cooking next to a little boy in my kitchen in frustrated silence. He had made a vulgar threat to a girl that I cared a lot about earlier in the week and it had resulted in her attempting suicide. I didn’t even know what to say. I didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to have to cook with him, didn’t want him there. But then a thought flooded my head: Jesus loves him too. “Really God?” I asked. “Do you really expect me to care about this kid?” I knew the answer was yes. Begrudgingly, I turned toward him. “How was your day?” I asked. “Good…” He started talking and continued on and on, telling me about his activities, his homework, the highs and lows. I could feel tears threatening to spill out of my eyes as I listened. He’s just a little kid. The fact doesn’t condone what he did, it doesn’t get him out of punishment, it doesn’t mean we should trust him, but it does show that his actions and words are at this point, mirroring what he was exposed to at a young age. It’s hard to love someone like that, but Jesus does and as that little boy told me all about his day, God gave my heart a little of that love for him too.
There’s a greater battle than we see going on in this earth between good and evil. Unfortunately, that battle has affected these children’s lives in drastic and sobering ways. But just as God has reached out His hand in forgiveness and protection to humanity for thousands of years, He is still doing so today. None of us are perfect or better than another. In fact, we’re all imperfect humans.
Before I had been talking to this little boy, I had this Desert Road by CAIN playing in my earbuds:
“This is where my hope is found
Knowin’ life is hard
but You’re still with me
and I’m not out here on my own
You are close to the broken-hearted
‘cause You’ve already walked this road
and you’re gonna finish what You started…
Lord, as long as I am breathin’
I will make Your glory known
Even if it means I’m walkin’ on this desert road.”
God walked the painful path through this earth just like us and these kids. That little girl who was threatened was not the only child that was broken-hearted; that little boy was hurting too. It doesn’t in any way excuse his actions, but it does serve as a reminder that each kid and person has their own set of pain. Let’s make God’s love and glory known to those around us today.
Alex is still learning how to take selfies...