I’ve been back almost a week. But I have to admit that my head is not necessarily “here” yet. I apologize for not posting to this blog sooner. I feel sort of foggy, like I left part of my brain (and definitely part of my heart) in Nicaragua.
Shortly after returning, I quickly uploaded photos to Walgreens.com, and printed out pics so my son Ryan, who accompanied me on the trip this year, could bring an album of photos up to DC. The day after we got home, I put Ry on a train to DC to spend a month with his Dad.
And being left in an empty house (which is something I am definitely not used to), particularly after spending a week playing and hanging out with dozens and dozens of kids at the orphanage, and after having a week of bonding with the 20+ members of the mission team (“Porch Time” each evening was our time for talking and processing all we’d seen each day), I am somewhat floundering in the swirl of thoughts and emotions I have.
A friend asked me what was my favorite part of the trip, and I had to come up with three favorites. (This may change after I’ve had more time to process the trip.) But for now, here are my top three:
1.) Last year I bonded with a (then) 14 year old young man named Stanley. (Further down in my blog, in the 2008 trip stuff, you’ll see pics of Stan-The-Man.) Stanley is now 15, just shy of 4 months older than Ryan, and it was so beautiful to see his smiling face again. Even more beautiful was to see Stanley and Ryan get to know each other, and before I knew it, the two of them were wrestling and laughing and goofing around like any two typical 15 year old friends. By the time we left, Stanley was calling Ryan his “brother.” That’s a sweet, sweet thing.
2.) Ryan had never seen anything like this situation before. Orphans (who spoke another language), poverty in the village surrounding the orphanage (we did a walking tour around the village, and were surrounded by dozens of village kids and adults too), and then the extreme poverty of the garbage dump, La Chureca, where thousands of people live – in the dump – to include hundreds of children. In each of these places, my son would within minutes, be surrounded by kids, and shortly thereafter have a kid on his shoulder. (They loved being on the shoulder of my 6’3″ beanpole.) Outside of the orphanage, these kids were often very dirty, some with scary sores on their bodies. But this never stopped Ryan from scooping them up and putting them on his shoulders. You’ll see pics of this too.
3.) This year, we had the opportunity to take 22 of the older girls to a ballet, a real ballet – the International Cuban Ballet – in Managua. This required much spiffing up, and Caroline on our team bought each of the girls pretty shoes including low heels, which was needed to get into the fancy theater (complete with three tiers of balconies). When the girls entered the bus, all dolled up and SO excited, we all whistled and said “Wow!” and “How beautiful!”, which made the girls smile with pride. At the theater, our girls looked like everyone else there – dressed to the nines, but perhaps with bigger smiles – and to the outsider, I’m sure there was no evidence whatsoever that 22 orphans were in attendance alongside them. The girls were on Cloud Nine when we all piled back in the bus to head back, all of us babbling about our favorite part of the ballet. It was a magical evening, for me too – it was also my first ballet. And I’m so glad it happened in Nicaragua, me sitting and sometimes holding hands (out of awe) with a sweet girl named Melissa. Pics on that later too.
So far now … that’s all I’m ready to write about. Let me see if I can get some photos up here. (I’ve attached three pics: Ryan and Stan wrestling, Ry carrying a village boy, Melissa at the ballet. Click on the small pics to see them larger. Need to get ready for work now.)
- Laura
