Hello All,
As I am leaving Nepal in two days, this will be my final posting. I am not quite sure what to say. My time here has been too beautiful, too heartbreaking, too life-changing to put into words. Still, I will try. I have never felt so lucky in my life, for both what I have been able to experience and what I have the good fortune of coming home to. Saying goodbye to the girls at the counseling center in Pokhara was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. Even writing about it now is very painful, so I will leave it at this: I will be forever grateful for what those seven little girls taught me, about life and about myself. Each one of them is so special and so brave. Two things I know for certain are that I will most likely never see them again, and I will never know if they will be okay... but I will always carry them in my heart, and I will always pray for them. I am going to be working very hard when I return home to continue fundraising and advocating for Antardristi Nepal, so that perhaps I can have a hand in their futures... at least as far as their education is concerned. It is the only chance they have of pulling themselves out of the life that they were born into, but certainly don't deserve. I am excited to take on this great task. I hope that others would like to be a part of it.
In the meantime, I am doing my best to take care of myself, both physically and emotionally, during my last days in Kathmandu. I am also trying to soak up every moment with my host family, whom I have grown to love and care for as if they were family that I have always known. I have no doubt that I will see them again, someday. I can't help but already dream about a time when I can come back here... although next time I would love to bring someone along with me to experience the magic of this place. And yet, I have never been so proud of myself, as the realization of what I have been through, completely on my own, has really just started to hit me. What a journey.
Namaste.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Sunday, April 4, 2010
April 5, 2010
Where to begin? The realization that I only have two weeks left here in Pokhara is quite hard to wrap my head around. I have never grown so close to a group of people in such a short amount of time. And I am so content here. I moved into a beautiful hotel in Lakeside, Pokhara about two weeks ago. The place is absolutely breathtaking. Serene lakes, snow-capped mountains in the distance, bamboo and palm trees and exotic flowers. My surroundings are unreal. I wake up every morning and take a 20 minute ride to the counselling center via the local bus. I love this ride, being crammed in between happy strangers on what looks like some strange sort of party bus, with colored lights and posters and blaring Nepali dance music. It's completely bizarre. I listen to the foreign conversation all around me as I stare out the bus window, watching everyone begin their day: shopkeepers sweeping their share of the sidewalk, fruit vendors yelling out bargains, children in blue uniforms running to school. And without fail, there is always a cow or two laying in the middle of the four-lane traffic. Somehow aware of the power they hold in this culture as a sacred animal, they are relaxed amidst the buses and cars and rickshaws dodging them. It's all very amusing.
My days at the center are so happy. These girls are teaching me more than I ever thought I could learn from them. They are each so different, so special in their own way. But they all share equally heartbreaking pasts. Most of them were picked up off of the street. Thus, control and discipline can be a challenge at times. And there is often fighting, as is typical with teenage girls. After about a week here at the center, I decided to make my focus with them on self-care and self-esteem... something that they are all lacking. We've been practicing things like basic hygiene, and through art and modest conversation, I've been able to get a sense of how these girls see themselves. And it breaks my heart.
Aside from being at the center, I've also been on some amazing personal endeavours. Last weekend I woke up at 4:45am and hiked Sarangkot to watch the sunrise. It was an experience I will never forget. I also visited a Tibetan refugee camp, a Buddhist monastery, the national Gurkha museum, and some other Nepali landmarks. It's all been fascinating.
And so I am down to my last days with the girls. Every night I contemplate how I am possibly going to say goodbye to them, knowing that it will be forever, and that I will most likely never know what will become of them. It's a very helpless feeling. But I do know that they will remember me. That I am sure of. And it makes my heart feel so full to know that in some small way, I have impacted them. The other day I was sitting at the office computer when one of the girls came over to me. She arrived at the center several months ago. Ten years old, she was living and working on the street as a prostitute before being rescued. She speaks a hand full of English words. And so, she asked one of the women at the center to translate a note for her to give me. In her best handwriting, she managed to write, "Hallie Miss I love you. Miss you go to America and you come back to Nepal. Hallie Miss I love you. I feel so happy." And in that moment I knew that I had done exactly what I came here to do.
Today I have decided to surprise the girls with a trip to the cinema. I told them we were going this morning before they left for school. My cheeks still hurt from being kissed so hard. I also have some very exciting news. Thanks to the generosity and compassion of such good friends back home, I have been able to have a swing set built for the center. Three swings and a four-person see-saw. It should be arriving today or tomorrow. Not only is it so wonderful for the girls who are here, but it is something lasting, for the girls to come. I cannot thank everyone who donated enough for their kindness.
I have a meeting with the director of the center in a couple weeks. I hope to discuss future fund-raising that I can do for the center from home. The idea that a few hundred dollars a year could keep one of these girls in a boarding school that would provide education, shelter, and safety is so amazing. So, my fingers are crossed that I can organize some way to continue to help.
As for now, I am soaking up every second with them. I feel so blessed.
My days at the center are so happy. These girls are teaching me more than I ever thought I could learn from them. They are each so different, so special in their own way. But they all share equally heartbreaking pasts. Most of them were picked up off of the street. Thus, control and discipline can be a challenge at times. And there is often fighting, as is typical with teenage girls. After about a week here at the center, I decided to make my focus with them on self-care and self-esteem... something that they are all lacking. We've been practicing things like basic hygiene, and through art and modest conversation, I've been able to get a sense of how these girls see themselves. And it breaks my heart.
Aside from being at the center, I've also been on some amazing personal endeavours. Last weekend I woke up at 4:45am and hiked Sarangkot to watch the sunrise. It was an experience I will never forget. I also visited a Tibetan refugee camp, a Buddhist monastery, the national Gurkha museum, and some other Nepali landmarks. It's all been fascinating.
And so I am down to my last days with the girls. Every night I contemplate how I am possibly going to say goodbye to them, knowing that it will be forever, and that I will most likely never know what will become of them. It's a very helpless feeling. But I do know that they will remember me. That I am sure of. And it makes my heart feel so full to know that in some small way, I have impacted them. The other day I was sitting at the office computer when one of the girls came over to me. She arrived at the center several months ago. Ten years old, she was living and working on the street as a prostitute before being rescued. She speaks a hand full of English words. And so, she asked one of the women at the center to translate a note for her to give me. In her best handwriting, she managed to write, "Hallie Miss I love you. Miss you go to America and you come back to Nepal. Hallie Miss I love you. I feel so happy." And in that moment I knew that I had done exactly what I came here to do.
Today I have decided to surprise the girls with a trip to the cinema. I told them we were going this morning before they left for school. My cheeks still hurt from being kissed so hard. I also have some very exciting news. Thanks to the generosity and compassion of such good friends back home, I have been able to have a swing set built for the center. Three swings and a four-person see-saw. It should be arriving today or tomorrow. Not only is it so wonderful for the girls who are here, but it is something lasting, for the girls to come. I cannot thank everyone who donated enough for their kindness.
I have a meeting with the director of the center in a couple weeks. I hope to discuss future fund-raising that I can do for the center from home. The idea that a few hundred dollars a year could keep one of these girls in a boarding school that would provide education, shelter, and safety is so amazing. So, my fingers are crossed that I can organize some way to continue to help.
As for now, I am soaking up every second with them. I feel so blessed.
Monday, March 15, 2010
March 16, 2010
Sunday was a wonderful last day in Kathmandu. I woke up very early in the morning to take a small plane ride over the Himalayas. It was by far the most incredible thing I have done here in Nepal. I mean, knowing of Everest is one thing, but being so close to it that you feel as though you could reach out and touch it is another thing entirely. It was an experience I will never forget. I spent the rest of the day walking around the busy streets of Thamel, and treating myself to some pizza and ice cream from a delicious and very well known restaurant called "Fire and Ice". It was lovely. In the evening, my host mother made me my absolute favorite, milk MoMo (sort of like a sweet dumpling) for my last meal. I spent the rest of the night alternating between watching an American film and the extraordinary lightning storm that seemed to be directly over our house, illuminating the sky with fantastic shades of purple.
Yesterday was quite the experience. I left Kathmandu for Pokhara at 7am. I was accompanied by four German trekkers, three Chinese trekkers, and a couple from France. They were excellent company. Our drive from the busy capital to the small city of Pokhara lasted about seven hours. And now I am here. And my happiness is too great to put into words. I am told that this city has a way of making that impact on most foreigners. It is so beautiful here. The air is so fresh, there is very little pollution or traffic, and mountains can be seen at every turn.
The counseling center in which I am working and living is located on a small side street, away from the center of the city. It is very modest, but very clean. It has a nice little front yard, and a beautiful garden filled with exotic flowers and fresh vegetables. Inside, there is a living room, an office, a study room, a kitchen, a bathroom, a prayer room, and bedrooms. I sleep in the guest bedroom.
Two women live at the center and care for the girls. They are called DeDes (sisters). They provide all of the cooking and cleaning as well. There is also a psychologist and a teacher who are here during the day. Currently, seven girls live at the center. They are between the ages of 7 and 17. The oldest girl has a 5 month old baby, who also lives here. Specifically, these girls have either been victims of rape within their home environment, or were found living and prostituting themselves on the streets. Some girls who are brought to the center are also victims of sex trafficking.
I cannot say enough about these children. They are so welcoming and affectionate. When I arrived, they all ran outside and greeted me with bouquets of hand picked flowers and red powder to stamp on my forehead with their little fingers. They speak very little English, and I obviously don't speak much Nepali, but we seem to understand each other very well. We spent my first evening here dancing together to Nepali music in the kitchen while the DeDes cooked dinner. We all ate our meal together on the kitchen floor, and then curled up in front of the television when the power came on, watching Nepali soap operas until it was time to put the little ones (and myself) to bed.
I was awakened this morning to the sound of the cows mooing and the roosters crowing in our neighbor's yard. The girls and I had tea and biscuits, and then we spent the rest of the morning drawing and playing in the driveway. Later, we had breakfast, which included the most amazing fresh cucumbers, carrots, and radishes from the garden.
The girls are all at school now, except for the oldest, who stays at the center with her baby and practices her sewing. I will spend the day with her, until the rest of the children come home. They are teaching me Nepali songs. I am teaching them English songs. So far, they love "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" and "The Itsy Bitsy Spider".
I know that I am going to be seeing and feeling and experiencing so much here, both happy and heartbreaking. For now I am so content with where I am, and so ready to learn from these girls. I cannot say how lucky I already feel to know them.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
March 8, 2010
Okay Mom and Auntie Les, you win. Here's a full description of my house and neighborhood.
The Name of my neighborhood is called Jayabageshwori. It's a fairly long street studded with shops, fruit and vegetable vendors, tiny restaurants, and temples. Most houses are either above the shops and restaurants, or on side roads (like mine). The main street is always bustling with taxis, motorbikes, bicycles, people, cows, goats, etc. The entire neighborhood is very friendly. I am getting to know some of the shopkeepers and their children quite well. And upon walking home from the orphanage in the afternoon, I am always greeted warmly by everyone I see (especially the children, who love screaming "Hello! Hi! How are you?" every chance they get).
As families live close together, usually groups of houses will belong to one clan. My family lives in a four story home. The first floor is inhabited by relatives of the family. On the second floor, my host brother, his wife, and baby girl Alya have a bedroom, a living room, and a bathroom. There is also another bedroom on that floor, where Kumar, the family's helper stays. The third floor includes my bedroom, my host parents bedroom, a guest bedroom, a bathroom, and a television room. My room is very quaint. I love it. It has a window overlooking one of the temples. Monkeys often come to visit me on the ledge that runs along the outside of the second story. Also, I must have over 1,000 books in my room. It's amazing. The television room has one chair, and then pillows on the floor for sitting. There is very little furniture in the house.
The fourth floor of the house is actually the roof. It is the place where we spend most of our time. It is like a common room, with a couch and outdoor chairs. It also has a manual washing machine and an outdoor sink. This level is partially covered by a sort of awning. I love coming up here to read in the sun. Off to the side of this room there is a spiral staircase, which takes you to the very top of the house. Here is where clothes are dried, along with different fruits and vegetables (homemade raisins!). On the fourth level of the house there is also a bedroom off to the side, belonging to my other host brother, and then another room, the kitchen. The kitchen is very modest. And the food that comes out of it is amazing. It has a fridge, a little bit of counter space, some cabinets, and a sink. On the counter is a portable gas stove-top. My favorite part of the house is this little nook that is sort of carved into one of the walls of the kitchen. It is almost a secret room... one in which I'm not even sure I could fit. You have to climb three stairs to get inside it. It's where my host mother prays everyday.
I'm sure this description is quite confusing, although it makes perfect sense to me. I will post some pictures soon, to give everyone a better understanding.
Next door lives my host father's brother and his family. This is where I do yoga in the morning. It is literally a 3 second walk (which is lovely, considering class is at 6am). Two doors down from my house is a little butcher shop. Usually I am sitting on the steps outside, talking on the telephone when a goat is struggling to free itself, screaming this terrible scream and then quickly being silenced. Suffice it to say that I am now back to being a vegetarian.
I love Jayabageshwori, and what's funny is that I so clearly remember a time when this place was so foreign to me. I would walk by the front gate of my house five or six times before realizing where I was. And now, when I reach the opening of the street at the top of the hill, I feel so happy to be home.
The Name of my neighborhood is called Jayabageshwori. It's a fairly long street studded with shops, fruit and vegetable vendors, tiny restaurants, and temples. Most houses are either above the shops and restaurants, or on side roads (like mine). The main street is always bustling with taxis, motorbikes, bicycles, people, cows, goats, etc. The entire neighborhood is very friendly. I am getting to know some of the shopkeepers and their children quite well. And upon walking home from the orphanage in the afternoon, I am always greeted warmly by everyone I see (especially the children, who love screaming "Hello! Hi! How are you?" every chance they get).
As families live close together, usually groups of houses will belong to one clan. My family lives in a four story home. The first floor is inhabited by relatives of the family. On the second floor, my host brother, his wife, and baby girl Alya have a bedroom, a living room, and a bathroom. There is also another bedroom on that floor, where Kumar, the family's helper stays. The third floor includes my bedroom, my host parents bedroom, a guest bedroom, a bathroom, and a television room. My room is very quaint. I love it. It has a window overlooking one of the temples. Monkeys often come to visit me on the ledge that runs along the outside of the second story. Also, I must have over 1,000 books in my room. It's amazing. The television room has one chair, and then pillows on the floor for sitting. There is very little furniture in the house.
The fourth floor of the house is actually the roof. It is the place where we spend most of our time. It is like a common room, with a couch and outdoor chairs. It also has a manual washing machine and an outdoor sink. This level is partially covered by a sort of awning. I love coming up here to read in the sun. Off to the side of this room there is a spiral staircase, which takes you to the very top of the house. Here is where clothes are dried, along with different fruits and vegetables (homemade raisins!). On the fourth level of the house there is also a bedroom off to the side, belonging to my other host brother, and then another room, the kitchen. The kitchen is very modest. And the food that comes out of it is amazing. It has a fridge, a little bit of counter space, some cabinets, and a sink. On the counter is a portable gas stove-top. My favorite part of the house is this little nook that is sort of carved into one of the walls of the kitchen. It is almost a secret room... one in which I'm not even sure I could fit. You have to climb three stairs to get inside it. It's where my host mother prays everyday.
I'm sure this description is quite confusing, although it makes perfect sense to me. I will post some pictures soon, to give everyone a better understanding.
Next door lives my host father's brother and his family. This is where I do yoga in the morning. It is literally a 3 second walk (which is lovely, considering class is at 6am). Two doors down from my house is a little butcher shop. Usually I am sitting on the steps outside, talking on the telephone when a goat is struggling to free itself, screaming this terrible scream and then quickly being silenced. Suffice it to say that I am now back to being a vegetarian.
I love Jayabageshwori, and what's funny is that I so clearly remember a time when this place was so foreign to me. I would walk by the front gate of my house five or six times before realizing where I was. And now, when I reach the opening of the street at the top of the hill, I feel so happy to be home.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
March 1, 2010
Yesterday was by far the craziest day I have experienced in Nepal (or perhaps anywhere). It was the Festival of Colors. As it was explained to me, this holiday represents the end of seasons past, and the welcoming of summer. Sort of like our version of the summer solstice. It's all about new beginnings. A fresh start. I love this, and I woke up early in the morning just about as excited as the kids outside my window, who were throwing colorful water and powder at everyone who passed by. Keep in mind, this was 9am.
I jumped out of bed and went up to have breakfast with my host family. They were introducing my baby sister, Alya, to her first experience of this holiday. Putting red powder on her forehead and cheeks, and then doing the same to mine. I was giddy with excitement as I looked at my face in the mirror and took pictures of everyone. Now, I was warned by my family, as we sat around the kitchen table, that sometimes this day can get a little out of hand. They suggested that perhaps I should stay home and watch the festivities from the roof. But I knew that this was probably something I'd never experience again, and that I had to be a part of the action.
So after breakfast, I put on the oldest t-shirt and pants I had, and decided I would brave the walk to the orphanage (despite suggestions that I take a taxi). How bad could it be, right? A few water balloons here and there, no sweat. I wrapped my camera and wallet in a plastic bag, and walked out the door into what I quickly realized was absolute mayem. I hadn't even gotten out of the gates of Jayabageshwori (try saying that 5 times fast) and I was already drenched, head to toe. Now, I knew that girls were the particular target during this festival, but I think that hitting naive, wide-eyed, female tourists was the ultimate prize. Man, was I nailed. And let me just say that the balloons that these kids throw aren't balloons at all. They're thick little plastic bags. And when thrown at close range, they feel like they are setting your skin on fire as they explode. Honestly, I fought back tears from the pain about three times on my walk, or should I say desperate sprint, to the orphanage.
Safely inside the gates of OCCED, I was overjoyed to see all the kids. Though some of them were hardly recognizable, what with the state they were in. They caught me up on the war that had been going on with their surrounding neighbors, and I helped them to launch water balloons at the enemy over the walls of our fort. But our fight against the other houses quickly turned into a fight against one another. I became even more soaked and rainbow-bright... something I didn't think was possible. After sneaking a few pictures of the kids, shielding my camera from the mayhem, I decided to make a run for it and find the closest cab driver. My walk from the gates of the orphanage to the taxi lasted only thirty seconds, but it felt like an eternity. It was as if every kid on the street had been anxiously waiting for me to come back outside. Their anticipation as I inched closer to them suddenly spilled over, and I was attacked on all sides. All of the shopkeepers and passerbys held their stomachs as they laughed at me and shouted, "Happy Holi!"
And it was, very happy.
I jumped out of bed and went up to have breakfast with my host family. They were introducing my baby sister, Alya, to her first experience of this holiday. Putting red powder on her forehead and cheeks, and then doing the same to mine. I was giddy with excitement as I looked at my face in the mirror and took pictures of everyone. Now, I was warned by my family, as we sat around the kitchen table, that sometimes this day can get a little out of hand. They suggested that perhaps I should stay home and watch the festivities from the roof. But I knew that this was probably something I'd never experience again, and that I had to be a part of the action.
So after breakfast, I put on the oldest t-shirt and pants I had, and decided I would brave the walk to the orphanage (despite suggestions that I take a taxi). How bad could it be, right? A few water balloons here and there, no sweat. I wrapped my camera and wallet in a plastic bag, and walked out the door into what I quickly realized was absolute mayem. I hadn't even gotten out of the gates of Jayabageshwori (try saying that 5 times fast) and I was already drenched, head to toe. Now, I knew that girls were the particular target during this festival, but I think that hitting naive, wide-eyed, female tourists was the ultimate prize. Man, was I nailed. And let me just say that the balloons that these kids throw aren't balloons at all. They're thick little plastic bags. And when thrown at close range, they feel like they are setting your skin on fire as they explode. Honestly, I fought back tears from the pain about three times on my walk, or should I say desperate sprint, to the orphanage.
Safely inside the gates of OCCED, I was overjoyed to see all the kids. Though some of them were hardly recognizable, what with the state they were in. They caught me up on the war that had been going on with their surrounding neighbors, and I helped them to launch water balloons at the enemy over the walls of our fort. But our fight against the other houses quickly turned into a fight against one another. I became even more soaked and rainbow-bright... something I didn't think was possible. After sneaking a few pictures of the kids, shielding my camera from the mayhem, I decided to make a run for it and find the closest cab driver. My walk from the gates of the orphanage to the taxi lasted only thirty seconds, but it felt like an eternity. It was as if every kid on the street had been anxiously waiting for me to come back outside. Their anticipation as I inched closer to them suddenly spilled over, and I was attacked on all sides. All of the shopkeepers and passerbys held their stomachs as they laughed at me and shouted, "Happy Holi!"
And it was, very happy.
Monday, February 22, 2010
February 23, 2010
I just returned from a weekend in the mountains. It was lovely. Of course, the 6 hour jeep ride to the village where I stayed is a different story entirely. But the journey was well worth it. Sharmathang, which is the name of the place, has the most beautiful view of the Himalayas. It is without pollution or traffic or noise. So peaceful and serene, it was the perfect place to collect my thoughts. Though I must confess that I did miss the city. I am really starting to figure my way around Kathmandu, and I find myself referring to it as "home" from time to time. Who would have thought?
I have been presented with a very unique opportunity. I will be spending one more month working with the children of the OCCED Nepal orphanage in Kathmandu, and the remainder of my time in a smaller city, called Pokhara. There, I will be helping to counsel young Nepali girls and women who are victims of sexual abuse. I will find out more about what my work there will entail this Friday, but for now I know that I am going, and that I will be both working and living at the counselling center/shelter. I love working at the orphanage, and I hate to leave the children early, but I simply can't pass up the opportunity to gain such valuable experience in the field of social work that I am actually planning to pursue.
As for this weekend, I am thinking about taking the Everest flight, to see the real Himalayas. Don't worry Mom! I've heard very good (and safe) reviews.
Also, this weekend is the very popular and highly anticipated Festival of Colors! The kids are so excited. From the sound of things, I will most likely spend the day soaking wet, letting them take turns throwing balloons filled with colored water at me. They can't wait, and honestly neither can I.
I have been presented with a very unique opportunity. I will be spending one more month working with the children of the OCCED Nepal orphanage in Kathmandu, and the remainder of my time in a smaller city, called Pokhara. There, I will be helping to counsel young Nepali girls and women who are victims of sexual abuse. I will find out more about what my work there will entail this Friday, but for now I know that I am going, and that I will be both working and living at the counselling center/shelter. I love working at the orphanage, and I hate to leave the children early, but I simply can't pass up the opportunity to gain such valuable experience in the field of social work that I am actually planning to pursue.
As for this weekend, I am thinking about taking the Everest flight, to see the real Himalayas. Don't worry Mom! I've heard very good (and safe) reviews.
Also, this weekend is the very popular and highly anticipated Festival of Colors! The kids are so excited. From the sound of things, I will most likely spend the day soaking wet, letting them take turns throwing balloons filled with colored water at me. They can't wait, and honestly neither can I.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
February 18, 2010
Today when I walked into the orphanage, the babies were too excited to contain themselves. I hadn't set both feet in the door before they had me surrounded. Hanging from my legs, shouting "Hi Miss! Look Miss!" I never get tired of it.
I tried to teach them the Itsy Bitsy Spider today. It was... interesting. They love the corresponding hand movements. I have been counting a lot with them, too. Every chance I get. Today I brought them a treat... a little piece of chocolate each. I tried to use it for counting, which was silly on my part. Once they saw the wrapper they went crazy for it. Actually, I think they enjoyed playing with the wrapper as much as they did eating the chocolate.
One baby, named Lily, has really taken to me. She is so sweet. She is one of the youngest children there, about two years old. Unlike the others, she is so content just sitting in my lap all morning, watching the others play. She loves when I use her fingers to count. I count from one through five, and she repeats me after each number. Her favorite part is at the end, when we reach five, and we say, "YAYYYY!!!!" and clap. Sometimes she prefers to skip the counting and go straight to the cheer at the end. I simply adore her. I already feel like I can't even imagine how I am going to say goodbye to them.
I was talking to my host father, who is the president of the orphanage. He was telling me that the children stay at the orphanage until they are 18, unless they are adopted. The budget is very tight for the number of children that need to be fed and clothed and cared for, not to mention keeping staff and tending to the maintenance of the place. So much is needed. It makes me wish I could help more.
I tried to teach them the Itsy Bitsy Spider today. It was... interesting. They love the corresponding hand movements. I have been counting a lot with them, too. Every chance I get. Today I brought them a treat... a little piece of chocolate each. I tried to use it for counting, which was silly on my part. Once they saw the wrapper they went crazy for it. Actually, I think they enjoyed playing with the wrapper as much as they did eating the chocolate.
One baby, named Lily, has really taken to me. She is so sweet. She is one of the youngest children there, about two years old. Unlike the others, she is so content just sitting in my lap all morning, watching the others play. She loves when I use her fingers to count. I count from one through five, and she repeats me after each number. Her favorite part is at the end, when we reach five, and we say, "YAYYYY!!!!" and clap. Sometimes she prefers to skip the counting and go straight to the cheer at the end. I simply adore her. I already feel like I can't even imagine how I am going to say goodbye to them.
I was talking to my host father, who is the president of the orphanage. He was telling me that the children stay at the orphanage until they are 18, unless they are adopted. The budget is very tight for the number of children that need to be fed and clothed and cared for, not to mention keeping staff and tending to the maintenance of the place. So much is needed. It makes me wish I could help more.
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