The Nest

Today was so hard and so wonderful all at the same time. I have this problem where I want to save the whole world and every time I see something wrong with it I think if I don’t fix it, no one will. I can’t remember who it is, but I have a friend who lives by the rule that if you see litter, it’s yours – it’s your responsibility, you are required to pick it up. That is essentially my life motto, except the litter is every little human injustice I’ve ever encountered. This, friends, is how you get ulcers.

I decided to go along with a few girls from my apartment to their placement this morning. They split their time between an orphanage in town and the hospital that is associated with that orphanage. At the hospital, they keep the babies and intellectually disabled orphans in a wing called “Le Nid” – The Nest. I spent a few hours in a “classroom” for the older disable class who were about teenage/young adult age. We painted with stencils, drew pictures, and did puzzles while also interacting and trading English words for Darija. They loved trying to speak English and wanted to know the word for everything in the room and then some. As much as I loved spending time in their class today, I really struggled with the stark contrast when comparing the facility to the American special education classrooms I am used to. I know the American system isn’t perfect either, but we really are so blessed in comparison. I tried to take everything in stride – really, I tried. But, I wanted so badly to replace their worn out, simple toys for educational ones. I wanted to take their hours of sitting in a tiny room passing the time and give them a day full of exploration and learning. It’s so complicated, trying to realize that the world is different from what I know, and that it isn’t my place to deem everything new as lesser. Still, my heart ached to give them something more. I don’t really know what “more” means, but I wish I could give it to them.

That feeling didn’t fade when we moved to the nursery. We were there to help with “lunchtime” – feeding and changing a room full of orphaned infants. It took everything I had to be objective about what I saw. I know the world isn’t perfect. I know that life is hard and things are the way they have to be sometimes. But I honestly just couldn’t stop myself from being angry and sad and absolutely heartbroken. There were so many babies in the room we worked in that the smallest (so, the newborns) were lined up on a shelf-type bed. I want to be clear that these children weren’t being mistreated and were being cared for to the best of the nurses’ abilities. They’re just working with what they have and too many babies.

It was less the place or situation and more the sadness of reality that hit me. The first thing I did when I got there was pick up a crying baby boy and hold him tight in my arms. The moment I touched his skin his crying stopped and his eyes stared up into mine, bright and beautiful. And as cute as he was and as happy as I was to hold him, I was overwhelmed by the knowledge that he is alone. He has nurses, yes, but those nurses have 99 other babies to care for and, ultimately, a job to do. I’ve never loved and appreciated my parents and my privileged childhood more than I did staring into that little boy’s eyes. But, I had to temper my sadness with the realization that I simply couldn’t give him or any of those babies the life I was blessed with. I had to swallow the fact that some things are bigger than I am. So, I did all that I could do. I held that baby, loved him as hard as I could, and prayed even harder. And I hoped that for a moment he would know how precious he is.

I’m so glad I got to go to The Nest today. It was a hard morning, but it answered a lot of questions I’ve been asking myself and, really, I just loved holding those babies. The rest of the day was packed with activity. I spent some time at the American Language Center for a meet-up with some Moroccan students. It was a total riot, playing games and laughing so hard it hurt. I seriously love that laughter is the same in every language. Plus, I learned some Moroccan games that are going to go over so well at camp later this summer. I also sat in on my friend Katie’s English class to get some ideas for my first class I will be teaching on Thursday. (Ah!) To top of the day, my housemates and I went out for late night ice cream. I am now a tried and true fan of the hazelnut ice cream here, so I really hope I can find something that compares in the states.

That’s all I can write for now. Tomorrow will be full of surprises, I’m sure.

PS. I wish I had pictures from today, but I wasn't allowed to take photos at the hospital for various reasons. As a consolation prize, here is a terrible picture of me carrying a handful of meringue cookies back from the ice cream shop. No shame.