The orphanage. 9 of the 25 children living there were awake and playing. 7 of the 9 are disabled and then there are two healthy babies. Parents of the disabled children brought them to the hospital waiting room and ran away. They left no information--no name, no age, nothing. These children wet their beds frequently. Here, they do the laundry by hand. 25 children wetting sheets approximately 4-5 times daily adds up to a lot of laundry--an impossible amount considering the limited staff and limited space on the clothes line. Also, it can't be raining when you wash clothes because then the clothes will never dry, which means clothes washing time is limited to 9am to 12am on any day when it doesn't start raining in the morning.
So?
The children sleep on mattresses with plastic coverings--no sheets. It's practical. It is the only thing they could do. If they used sheets, they would end up moldy in all the humidity. But, I can't stand to think about it.
Also, the humidity carries the smell of urine and body odor through the air. I'm used to that smell in nursing homes and in the hospital setting, but for some reason the combination of the smell and my despondence made my stomach rancid and made my head throb.
Nothing I can do in that orphanage will offer any prolonged improvement for the children.
It feels ridiculous for me to hug, rock, sing, play, and tickle for a few hours every day and then leave 3 months later.
And, because of that, I should be spending every spare minute I have in that orphanage, channeling any leftover energy to share love and human interaction with children who are starving for it.
But, I couldn't do it. Not even for a full 3 hours. It was too much. I was depleted after 1 hour and I had to push myself to be able to stay another hour and 30 minutes.
I don't like "can't." I don't believe in it. I like to push myself--to stretch, to test my limits. That is why I run long distance, why I ran a marathon.
But I could not. I pushed till my mind went dry and then I escaped to my room to think and feel nothing for a full ten minutes. Then, I bawled my eyes red.
I know what failure feels like, what insufficiency is. I couldn't do it.
