Just one week

My last day at the orphanage seems like an eternity ago, but it has only been 7 days. Life has changed SO fast. I still can’t believe I was in the van that drove two sobbing girls out of the gate just one week ago. I still feel as if I could walk over and kiss all my kids goodnight in the evenings, or expect to see one come jump on me when I walk out of my room. Yes, it was good to see my family once again, but that only lasted three short days. Then more excitement came to accompany the sadness, shock, and overwhelmed feelings engulfing me. Brittany and Blake walked in my house! And the next morning we left for the biggest surprise of my life. We came back to Ecuador(where I was an SM 2 years ago) and surprised everyone! (except the principal and secretary we had to work out a few details with) No sleep, jet lag, culture shock, and adrenaline pumping through my body with the huge surprises we just pulled on the people here feels like another dream I’m living in. Though there were six times as many people, church felt empty today. I could only see ten kids from where I was sitting. My mind went back to all my kids in Bangladesh, the best kids in the world. I love them SO much and can’t describe how much I miss them. I would do almost anything to be with them again right now….but I know God has a reason for turning my life upside-down so fast and bringing me back to CADE right now. Bito, thank you for the priceless memories I’ve made and the opportunities You have in store for me here. Change is hard, and this change is fast, but You are in control of everything. 

2,1, tata :(

Day 2: Sabbath, the last day with my kids. Amongst a blur of last tastes of Shati’s food, last minute little letters, gifts, and taking pictures, I taught my last Sabbath school, sang my last Bengali song(in front of people that actually understand it), and played for them I’d Rather have Jesus on the pastor’s violin. When I love these kids so much, and they are pleading me, with sincere yearning in their eyes, to take them home with me, it breaks my heart. In those moments, more than anything else, I really wish I could take them with me. But, more than I want to take kids home with me, more than I want to stay longer at the orphanage, more than I want to see them again….more than all of that, I’d rather have Jesus. The afternoon was filled with branch sabbath school with Jehanna(yay she’s back!) in the Gohara village, a birthday party for 1 yr old twin boys, and my last game of ‘catch catch’ chasing and tickling all these giggly precious heart-stealers around the playground.

Branch Sabbath School at Gohara village school with Jehanna!

All too soon the time came to say goodnight for the last time and goodbye to the most precious 112 kids in my world. I started out strong, for the kids sake, giving them each a big hug and kiss telling them how much I loved them, and if they loved Jesus I would see them again in heaven. Caleb was the first of the boys to get me—after a tearful bear hug, kisses, and reminding him to talk to Jesus when he was sad and He would be with him, I had to put him back on his bed and he just cried and sobbed and cried and sobbed. I don’t know how I pulled myself away, but as soon as I got into the next room, I just lost it. Though the little toddlers were mostly asleep in their cribs, I just walked around crying, whispering to each one how much I loved them. Shooley, Mitali and Danny were being so patient with me, following me from room to room, waiting for me to cry with everyone.  The caregivers, teachers, and other staff I’d grown close to were equally as hard to bid farewell too. So much for being strong--I was a walking, sobbing mess! My 1^st graders and my little 8 yr old mother really got me. I picked them up, kissed them, and gave them huge hugs as we cried on each other’s shoulders and I choked out how much I loved them. Only God knows if I will be able to come back to Bangladesh, but we all know if we love Jesus we will see each other again in Heaven. My hope and prayer is that I will see them all again soon, whether it be in Bangladesh or Heaven.

Day 1: Early the next morning, we must leave for Dhaka to catch our flight. At 6 a.m. some kids were up already, and along with a few staff, weren’t going to let us go without more tears. I said my last goodbyes with only a few tears, but when Mitali shut the van door, they began streaming down. I shoved the window open, and through a screen of tears waved ‘tata’ as our driver took us away. Down the familiar little roads for the last time, the tears would not stop until we reached Joypurhut. I have left part of my heart and my love at BanglaHope, and taken with me their love and memories. God, I know that you can unite us all again. Please make it soon.

10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3

            Six months sounded like a long time. Now it’s down to those last moments you cherish for everything they’re worth. I would like to share with you some of my memories from my last 10 days at BanglaHope.

Day 10: Blessed with an awesome thunderstorm. Danny was helping me do some coloring for Grammy when the rain finally poured down accompanying the thunder and lightning. Of course we HAD to take a break and go run, spin, and dance in the rain J Later, all the foreigners planted their own coconut tree the freedom fighter donated for Gohara village school. At Shati’s last dinner of chipattis, chips, hummice, and salsa, Grammy got me hooked on salsa juice…it’s strangely addicting J

The audience. They find even planting trees attractive

Day 9: Caleb and Kakoli were my lap buddies in church…I’m going to miss my funky monkey and mommy SO much L Then we each grabbed some kids and went on our last walk through the villages, saw the silly quilt lady Grammy gave a thimble to, and played my last game of 5 crowns with popcorn and smoothies at the Waids house.

Beautiful stitchery with a painful finger before Grammy brought her the thimble!

Day 8: Splendid art class with supplies amazing people sent Lisa, then each 1^st, 2^nd, and 3^rd grader got to make their own sugar cookie, decorate it, and of course later consume it J Then at chapel in Grammy’s house that night, all 37 of them were given gum to chew-a huge treat! Ever heard 37 people all smacking their gum in a little room? It’s….noticable!

Marissa and Mitali making cookies

Day 7: Invited to a meal with all the foreigners (about 5 of us went)at some important guy’s house and saw the girls from a girls school he started-He just wanted the girls to see us and be motivated to study so they could be like us some day? I think it’s great girls can be motivated to do good in school by just staring at us-stare away kids!

Day 6:Ponuel learned the entire ‘Twinkle Twinkle’ on his violin. Melody’s water ballon toss turned into an EPIC waterfight, running back and forth to the bathroom with buckets of water for these kids that were having a blast with their first waterfighting experience! J Then closed the last mid-week prayer meeting with a prayer in Bangla, hehe J

Oh Danny. the drencher has been drenched :)

Waterballon toss

Day 5: Farewell program…Beautiful dance with candles and red saris by Banni, Suma, Helen, Minuti, Joya, and Shagormoni, poem from Crissy, 3^rd grade dance, and a special dance from Tisha. These kids are not only cute, but talented too J Litton encouraged us go to out with dancing instead of tears, which I thought about doing until Danny started crying on my lap. These kids make it so painful to think about leaving L

Farewell dance

Day 4: Last day of classes, taught my 1^st graders(favorite class EVER) ‘Heads up 7 up’, except it was more like, ‘Wake up 3 up’ because there’s only 12 of them in the class, and they don’t know what 7 up is. The kids are already crying when I went to say goodnight to them, and I’m not even leaving yet. How am I going to pull myself away? When Kakoli told me she was going to cry when I left, I told her, “ You don’t have to be so sad. If you love Jesus, I will see you again in heaven.” To which she replied, “No, first you come to Bangladesh. Bangladesh is heaven.”

Day 3: Broke the record with TWENTY GIRLS on Mr. Puffin today! We took all the big girls to town to get their very own little buckets and soap because at 8 years old here, it’s time to start doing some of your own laundry J  saw our 2-toothed pharmacy guy that sang to us, took more girls through the fish market of muttering men to the disgusting squat, and of course we all got ice cream. Whenever we go out, there’s always curious crowds gathering and someone’s bound to ask, ‘Madame, where is your country?’ Really, they’re just wanting you to say America, so I usually tell them I’m from Bangladesh or the U.S. (which most of them don’t know is the same as America).  But this gets monotonous, so I’ve started responding ‘oosa’(like USA sounded out as a word), and they ask again ‘America?’  again I repeat ‘oosa’. They’re confused. On this particular occassion, another man in the crowd that had gathered around me and the girls offered an explanation (in Bangla), ‘Maybe it’s a new country.’ The guy’s curiosity isn’t satisfied and again he asks, ‘Oh, so Canada?’ I respond with the obvious ‘no’ after which that other guy repeats, ‘No! It must be a new country!’ Hehe J We returned from our shopping adventure a squishedly putting back to Bangla Hope without anyone falling off!

Girls getting their buckets and soap

That evening at vespers, I just soaked in every last precious moment with Brooke and Danny singing on my lap. After telling the kids goodnight I took a violin up to our roof and was playing in the breeze, and after I stopped playing, letting the wind carry the vibrations off the strings into the distance through the cool night air. In just two days I must also stop playing with the kids and carry only my treasured memories with me through the air far into the distance across the ocean.

Shopping with Grammy!

Some of their new dresses

One shopping adventure on Mr. Puffin

I like shopping, Grammy’s good at shopping, and these kids LOVE shopping! Some amazing person donated money to take all the kids shopping in town, and we have now taken around 75 of them to do just that! About 6 at a time pile on Mr. Puffin or a rickshaw van for their first shopping experience ever. Most have never been on a trip away from the orphanage, and the 20 min. trip to Hili is only the beginning of their new adventure. Some were so excited at everything we were passing they never stopped talking! Others were lulled by Mr. Puffin’s toot toot down the road and fell asleep in my lap.

We have come across many things in Hili. Once we found a cute 2-toothed old man in a pharmacy that started barking, meowing, hissing, quacking then singing to us! Another time a drunk found us and would NOT stop following us around ‘helping us shop.’  As each trip had its unique set of adventures, I will just try to give you a taste of what we would do. We would always take the girls to fabric shops and let them pick out a fabric they liked. Even the 3,4, and 5 year-olds knew exactly which ones they wanted! Then with huge smiles on their faces and their fabric in one hand we would go to the tailor who would measure them and make a beautiful new dress to pick up later. For the boys we would find new shorts and a t-shirt they liked. Then shoe time! We searched every shoe store we could find in Hili for good little girls and boys flip flops and sandals and kept ending up at the same shop; this man lucked out BIG TIME selling almost all 75 pairs of shoes to us!

Now shopping in Bangladesh takes a lot longer than you may expect because you must search countless shops to find what you are looking for and a man that will agree to a fair price. So, there is ample time for their little bladders to get full, and the only squat in Hili that I know of is in the back of the fish market. Trip after trip I would take those with full bladders through the fish market to the squat, sometimes 5 at a time, other times only 2. I was most likely the only white person bringing kids through the fish market, and they started recognizing me. They would comment to each other in Bengali when I walked through (thinking I didn’t understand) ‘hey, she’s been her before…are those her kids?....but last time she had 4, where’s the other ones?’ Haha…yes, yes they’re all my children now…now children hurry up so we can get out of these stinky fish!

The shopping isn’t finished until Grammy thoroughly spoils them like Grammys love to do J We always make a stop for ice cream and crackers before heading back home, and for many it is the favorite stop of the whole trip! Ice cream is such a rare treat for these kids Danny is even keeping a life count of how many times he’s eaten it! (I think he’s at 6 now) After finishing their delicious cold treat, we head to Mr. Puffin (or a rickshaw van) who, hopefully, will start up before too many tries and take us home. But if Mr. Puffin doesn’t want to work, well, a crowd will gather and crazy men will give Grammy their cigarettes J And, we will pray with the kids to keep us safe and get us back quickly, and they will see God answer their prayer. I feel so lucky to have accompanied these kids on their first shopping adventure with Grammy; everything in Bangladesh is an adventure, and this was no exception! Now the girls are running around in their beautiful new dresses and the boys are showing off their new clothes. Another beautiful memory from Bangladesh J

Tears for a happy ending

Kristel's mother and 2 sisters she left behind

Baby Kristel, when she wasn't crying on the trip home

Grammy: “We might be going South to get some babies.” I try not to get my hopes up again. Countless times this has happened, and always falls through. On my birthday we even went to a baby’s village, saw it, then found out we couldn’t take it back with us. I have been dreaming, even months before coming to Bangladesh, of rescuing a baby from a village to bring it back to a happier life at the orphanage.

5:30 a.m. March 7, 2011 my dream began coming true. We were on our way to a village school in the South of Bangladesh where 5 babies were waiting to come home with us.  My first sight was a distressed group of family members holding these precious babies they were about to give up.  Their conditions are such that they know it will be better for the child to grow up in our orphanage, but the heartache it causes them is covering their faces. It is a true sacrifice of love to give the child to us, and a true blessing for us to receive such a precious gift. We first take pictures with whatever family/guardian came with the child and gather what we can of the child’s story, the reason they are giving us their child. One family had 5 daughters and was so destitute they didn’t have any place to live except a thatch shelter they made ON the road; we took their 2 youngest daughters the grandparents couldn’t care for. Another family’s father saw his own father murdered in front of him, went into shock, and is now mentally ill and unable to care for or support his family. The mother has 3 daughers, the youngest of which we took. These people have truly traumatic stories that compel them to give their own children up.

On the ground we lay out a mat where we wash and dress each child in a new outfit for the 10 hour trip home.  Then we must tenderly rip these little loved ones away and take them into our care. In a country that is 90% Muslim, I witnessed something quite rare; when I took baby Kristel(as I named her later) from her mother, her last words to her baby girl were(in Bangla) “Talk to Jesus. Whether you’re happy or sad, He will always be with you.” I could see in that mother a certain faith and hope the other guardians there didn’t have amidst their pain; Jesus makes all the difference. Painfully, we push the crying mothers and families aside and shut ourselves with the new babies inside the van. The heartache all over the faces we left behind and the crying of the babies inside was overwhelming; something so heartbreaking you cannot understand until you experience it. As soon as the car door shut, it was nothing but tears for precious baby Kristel(maybe 1 ½ -2 yrs old) until she cried herself to sleep. Ocasionally she would wake up only to wimper and cry herself to sleep again in my arms. After a few hours of this she finally accepted an orange. 10 mins later it came back up all over me and her new dress J Poor Kristel was carsick on top of all the trauma.  When it happened again later, I was lucky enough to get her head out the window in time to avoid a second-dousing of baby puke J Only once the whole trip home did I see Kristel happy; she hung her head out the window and was pointing out to me all the cars and banana trees and waving, “Tata!” (“Bye-bye!”). Like a little puppy, she was just loving the wind in her face-a truly precious sight after all her tears! But the tears were not over. Soon she was grasping the window, tears rolling down her little cheeks crying out “Ma koi?” (“Where’s mom?”) It broke my heart. This innocent baby girl was devastated at being torn away from her mother. It wasn’t her fault, and she doesn’t understand she is going to a happy place. Though it is heart-wrenching to take these precious children away, they will have a better life at BanglaHope. They will grow up happy, with sufficient food and clothes, an education, over 100 playmates, and most importantly they will learn about Jesus.  Though they cry when they come, their tears will have a happy ending.

Half of the kids to be dedicated

Dedication prayer

Shuchitra Madame presenting Marjori with dedication certificate

What a sight. A massive baby being dedicated. Well, at least it sounds like a sight…I can’t say I’ve ever seen one. I did see a massive baby dedication though, and it IS a sight! It made this Sabbath so special. Though BanglaHope orphanage has been around for 6 ½ years now, none of their children have ever been officially dedicated. So, today was that special day for all 105 children. Special guest pastors were called in from an entire day’s journey away to be part of this occasion. Between Sabbath school and church the kids were called to the front of our church/cafeteria/multi-purpose room. All 105 of them along with their caregivers stood while the guest pastors shared some words. Then each pastor, along with Mr. and Mrs. Waid and Mrs. Soren, picked up a kid and we had a big prayer. A certificate had been made for each child, but as there were so many of them, only a few of the older ones were presented with their certificates during the ceremony. Though small and simple, it signified something far more greater than it first appeared. Each child has been specially chosen by God to fulfill a specific purpose that no one else could fill. The sight of all those kids standing up there being dedicated to the God who has already rescued them from so much just struck me. The plans he has for each child are so tremendous and important  that He has used this orphanage to rescue them from hunger, all sorts of suffering, Hindu and Muslim up-bringings, and even death. He needs every one of them to do something for Him that only they can do. I pray that one day these kids will realize what an extraordinary plan God must have for them to have brought them to grow-up in BanglaHope. And with that realization I pray they have the strength to pursue whatever duty it stirs in them.  

Best Wedding Wishes!

Wedding Party

Beginning the mashing of the spices

Mashing tumeric and other spices

Bride and groom soon to be smeared in tumeric!

Dulali, the new wife in her reception shari

Porimol and Dulali cutting cake at wedding reception

Tumeric and me :)

I think I may have discovered my favorite Bengali tradition-Tumeric parties! It is an opportunity for all to come and give the soon-to-be couple their best wishes, and….have some fun too J The evening before Dulali and Porimol’s wedding ceremony, the culturally rich Tumeric Party begins with a chain of women (in red and yellow sharis) filling jars with water, putting mango leaves on top, and trailing towards the front, each holding the ‘tail’ of the woman’s shari in front. Rinsing the wooden board and grinder, 5 women put their hands on a grinder and together ceremoniously begin mashing the spices. Fresh spices of all kinds, but mostly turmeric, are ground and set aside. Then there is a ‘tasteless’ bark that all the unmarried women eat so they will get married soon….my piece, however, had a taste that made me gag so bad I had to spit it out! I guess I won’t be getting married anytime soon J Then the groom is carried in like a baby and seated under the yellow and red decorated covering. Finally, the bride is carried in the same fashion and seated next to her groom. After a special dance from two talented young girls, the guests file up to the couple, each one smearing the freshly mashed spices all over the bride and groom, wishing them the best. In return, the couple also dabs the cheeks of each guest with the spices. At this point, it’s a free-for-all; grab as much spices as you can and run around smearing it on clean faces and trying to dodge those doing the same to you! Even the kids got into it—and though you’d think the height difference would be an advantage, I was surprised at how well they could sneak up and jump and still get you in the face! After all faces were yellow at the party(and many necks, and arms as well), we went in search of those who had run away—NO ONE was spared a little tumeric in the face except the Waids who locked themselves in their house (they’ve experienced their fair share of tumeric parties already).  It was a terrifically exciting and splendid mess! I understand why red and yellow are the choice garment colors for this occasion…tumeric can stain J

The next morning, after getting most of the yellow off our skin and hair, we escort the bride to the back of our ‘multi-purpose’ (café/church/whatever) room which has been simply yet nicely decorated. A short ceremony later—they’re married! Then it’s time for a few pictures and lots of waiting while specially hired cooks make especially tasty curries and dhal for the reception. I was watching one guy cook in a huge pot over a fire he dug in the ground and he must have poured close to an entire gallon of oil in one pot of curry! It’s really a wonder all these Bengalis aren’t overweight! A few hours later when the food was ready, those that stuck around after the wedding gathered for a picnic-style reception where everyone was fed as much rice, dhal, curry, and veggies as they could eat! A simple wedding cake had been purchased and the newly weds cut the cake, fed each other, then all the guests walking by fed them as well! Couples eat A LOT of cake at their weddings here! After the meal, the bride and groom departed for their villages where more wedding parties and festivities were to be had.

It was an unusual Bengali wedding in that it was not an arranged marriage…they were boyfriend/girlfriend before they decided to get married. Even so, marriages here are not all about love and happiness as I always thought they were. I am grateful for the opportunity to witness other kinds of marriages, but they make me even more sure that I will marry out of love—not because someone tells me, not because my a friend/parent sets it up, not because I wouldn’t have to worry about supporting myself. I love love even more now!