Day 11: Small But Strong

Today was the first day of trying out the new location for the orphanage. Supposedly it was to be in a far more welcoming space, instead of smack dab in the middle of the IDP tent camp (a very depressing and heartbreaking place to be.) In my head I was expecting a lush grassy area for outdoor teaching and tall trees for shade. I momentarily forgot where I was, apparently. Sparse green littered with patches of mud surrounded the extremely hot tent that felt more like a heat box than an outdoor space. But as kids usually are, particularly in Haiti, they’re resilient and versatile and we made it work, despite the few pretty dresses the girls wore.

It was also the first day of trying out the new structure for the lessons. It went flawlessly. It was as if we had always run things this way. The kids seemed to expect what was about to happen and jumped on board without question. I was so impressed by them.

The first group I had for the craft project reviewing numbers (making a spider) was the group of children 8 years old and below. Some were so little they didn’t know how to hold a pencil and never spoke a word no matter who spoke to them. A few came in partially naked - something you get used to seeing daily in Leogane. A few students were impeccably clean and a few others made my heart hurt how dirty they looked. No matter their level of cleanliness or ability to communicate, they all did the project and did so with such fervor, even if they didn’t understand. I tell you, the children of Haiti are truly remarkable and incredibly strong.

The second group of children were 9 years old and above. Brilliant. Orphans in a 3rd world country after suffering so much destruction for so many years and yet there they sat bright eyed and eager and so unbelievably smart. These children only go to school in the mornings and yet they didn’t skip a beat. And how amazing to see how quickly they pick things up, such as knowing when to put up the “quiet and ready” signal without being told, learning new English songs, and going with the flow of the lessons. They blew me away. They blew all the volunteers away.

We got on the taptap to head back to base with a sense of accomplishment that is owed almost completely to the children. There are many kinks to still work out but it’s all on the right track. Experiencing the enthusiasm of the children only makes me want to work that much harder to make this learning experience for them as meaningful as possible. I wonder, though, if I will ever be able to give them as much as they have given me.

Day 6: Full Circle

* Editorial Note: 1. Despite what you may think, especially if you know me well, the “torrential downpour in more ways than one” comment from the prior post did not refer to crying. Surprise, surprise. Though I may be a Kleenex commercial’s target audience, I don’t think I have enough emotion left to even form a tear, and I would feel both rude and disrespectful to cry in the middle of a country that has lost so much and I have yet to see a single tear hit their dusty ground. *

Yesterday I forgot to mention a beautiful fact about the “house” we were working on. The homeowner, Mitel, had told me that his wife, child, and three others had been trapped under the fallen rubble after the quake. Him, his brother, some neighbors, and a few children from the school down the road helped to un-bury them (can we take a moment to let that sink in…they had to UN-BURY their family from under their house.) All five people were rescued without any casualties. All buried, and yet all survived. Amazing. He finished his incredible story with “God is good.” Yes, indeed God is.

...

I made a bold move today for a “newbie” but a rather simple and practical move for myself. I signed up as team leader for the orphanage. Working with the local orphanage (which is not what you think when you think of an orphanage – it’s just a tent with 4 tables) takes place on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Tuesday I went for the first time and after 2 minutes I couldn’t help but take charge. Maybe it’s the teacher in me, but there’s nothing worse than seeing children losing attention and talking, squirming, and getting out of their seats. I will have none of that. Especially when it’s so easy to engage them, mainly because they all really want to be there. I tried not to step on anyone’s toes, but I also had to remind myself that we weren’t here for the ego boost of volunteers, but for the education of the children. So when it came time to sign up for Thursday's jobs, I jumped at the chance to lead the group.

In our pre-meeting talk one of the volunteers asked, “Didn’t you just get here?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re leading the group?” Clearly she doesn’t know me well. I don’t like to do most things unless I can lead them (annoying, I know, but I wouldn’t have gotten to where I am without that quality.)
“Yes.” I said firmly. She didn’t speak up again.

The class went wonderfully well. During the classes the kids learn about animals, numbers, colors, and the alphabet in English. I find that children always learn better when they are able to do, whether it’s writing, drawing, making something…whatever. So, I came up with a project for the children to make cat necklaces. They got to glue the ears to the face, draw in the appropriate parts, and wear the cats around their necks. Very simple project. But they loved it. And they got to take it home with them, which they loved even more.

Glue. Something we take for granted. The look on their faces when they got to use glue, many for the first time. I held a little boy's hand and helped him squeeze the glue onto the edge of the ear. When the gooey mess came out of the bottle he nearly toppled over from surprise and excitement. His eyes were as big as a deer's in headlight – he had never seen glue before.

The most amazing moment came when the classroom full of Haitian children -ranging in age from under 1 to 11, some covered in dirt from head to toe, a couple so small they didn’t even have pants or underwear on - sat straight up with one finger over their mouth and the other hand up in the air. They had just learned that was the symbol for "I’m quiet and ready." And there they sat, quiet and ready, showing me the signal when two days ago it took a hundred “shh’s” and “be quiet’s” from the local volunteers to get their attention. This, dear reader, is a teacher’s great joy – to get a classroom full of students at attention and perfectly quiet. Especially children that the staff said was "hard to control." Once again, they clearly have never met me before. Difficult children are my specialty. I love the challenge. But most times it's just about meeting the kids where they are without assuming you know where they come from.

Amazing how somehow or another it always comes back to children and teaching. Apparently everything really is full circle.