Desiree's Diary

May 29th, 2008

This is one of an occasional series of columns from Desiree,
who is serving an orphanage in the Republic of Uzbekistan, (formerly part of the USSR).
 

05-20-08
At the Q (orphanage) today, as I was handing out bananas and feeding those kids who can’t yet feed themselves, I realized that a child I had been working with for the last 8 months was absent. I asked the caretakers about his whereabouts and succinctly the answer was “home”.

Initially, I was thrilled at the thought because I have known (as with all the kids) that he’d do much better at home. But then doubt started to rise as I fed smashed bananas to a small girl, who preferred the texture on her lips rather than in her mouth. As the pieces of bananas fell from her cheeks, I tried to imagine where the other child had gone. The banana bits that hit the floor were quickly, though clumsily, devoured by the kids that could reach them. I left the girl alone with a sparse banana beard and moustache and my thoughts of the other child’s whereabouts were filled with mushy suspicion.

When I asked a person in higher standing where this child had gone, my question received another question. “Who’s that?” she said, “I don’t know anyone by that name.”

Everything inside me wanted to shout in disgust. Instead, I began to describe the child’s physical appearance, thinking that soon they’d clue in to whom I was speaking about. They didn’t and the word “home” that the first lady had mentioned had started to burn in my chest. Home can mean something else. So then I thought and asked, “Maybe he went to school?”

At this, one lady actually guffawed. The other lady quickly listed the kids who went to school, but did not mention his name. Things are never as they appear to be. Based on their tones and their unwillingness to talk about him, I suspect something happened. He certainly was not sick enough the last time I saw him to have simply gone home – that final resting place. If he had really gone home - home, I don’t understand all the secrecy. I was left with no answers, but regardless of his whereabouts, my heart aches and I will miss working with him. He had improved so much and was really coming into his own.

I was also told this week, that another child I had been working with went “home.” I hope soon to receive permission to contact the parents and see if they need additional help or medical care. Losing kids is hard, but if I knew they were in a better place it would help with the heart ache. It would be grand if they all found home.

Desiree'

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