Hoi A orphanage
Trip Start
Nov 01, 2007
1
22
26
Trip End
Nov 20, 2007
Hoi An,
Vietnam
Friday, November 16, 2007
Our tour leader, Debs, is a fantastic dynamo of a person; highly organised and efficient, but so much fun and very compassionate. On all her tours, she offers her clients the opportunity to go with her to an orphanage, and this trip was no different. I decided I wanted to go along, so I bought some animal-shaped whistles as gifts because I thought a toy that had a practical purpose and an end result would bring some pleasure as well as developmental use.
I'd done a little reading about orphanages in Vietnam but it was so much worse than I had imagined. We went first into the room for disabled kids, and my God, it was all I could do not to cry. But this felt like the wrong thing to do; my distress brings nothing to the kids. Tiny babies were left alone on beds, cushions around them to stop them from falling off. I never left my son like that when he was little, but these poor kids have no one but the care staff or volunteers to look after them and tend their needs. Not only babies, though. Kids the age of my son and older were there, each with different disabilities: Agent Orange Dioxin Poisoning, cerebral palsy, cleft lips and cleft palettes, Down's Syndrome, and hydrocephalus. Which are due to Agent Orange and which to accidents of birth, I don't know, there was no one there to ask. The worst for me was a little girl, maybe six months old, who had hydrocephalus, which means water in her brain causes her head to swell to gigantic proportions. Debs said the swelling had got worse since she had last saw the girl. There's an operation that can fix this and make the head stop swelling, but it needs to be done as soon as possible to be successful. I guess it's either lack of funds or not catching the problem early enough, but so many kids are left like this poor wee girl, her head swelling until she dies. She just lay there on her cot bed staring at the ceiling. That's her life. No kisses or cuddles or games, it's heartbreaking and brings tears to my eyes as I write because I am so helpless to make things right. I stroked the girl's hands and let her hold my finger. I felt useless.
Next we went into a classroom where older kids were having lessons. There were a couple of helpers but I didn't get a sense of structure to the class. The kids were doing different things and I got the feeling that this was more due to lack of funds to provide textbooks and teachers than the fact that each child was afforded the opportunity to work at his or her own pace. How can Communism be an option when kids are discarded by their families and the state in this way, even though this is a state run orphanage? OK, these kids have a home of sorts in that they have meals, beds, and some care, which is more than the street kids, but I thought Communism meant the same treatment for everyone. I'm not naïve, I know in Communist countries there are those with more than others, but surely the basic necessities of life should be met better than this! There's a theory about need, Maslow's Triangle of Needs, and only the very basics were met here, but better than nothing, better than no food or shelter.
We continued so we didn't cause too much disruption to the lesson, and went into a playroom. Here, again, the kids had some sort of disability, either physical or mental. There were lots more helpers here, three Vietnamese ladies and two volunteers, I think, perhaps, from France or Belgium. One boy, Tong, was physically disabled, his legs and curled up under him and his arms and hands slightly mobile. He's a great kid, happy, chatting away in English and playing Connect 4 with Debs. The others could sit, some could shuffle on their bottoms, and one girl was learning to walk. One volunteer, Gerard, told me that he and his wife were retired and spent a few months each year helping out at the orphanage. The little girl learning to walk they had found two years earlier, just lying on her bed. She was two years old and had never crawled or shuffled, never had the opportunity to move or to play. With months of time spent with her over the next two years, she was able to shuffle around on her bottom and with help was learning to stand and walk. She was a beautiful child.
We stayed and played for ages, but I continued to feel useless. For some reason, I just couldn't engage too deeply with the kids. It's made me see just how bloody lucky I am. I have a wonderful son and I give him everything I can to make him happy, to grow and to learn. These kids, well, they get what's available and they accept the way life is. They take the short time that we had, they play with us, and then they just accept that we go out of their lives forever.
So, another life-changing experience for me, and what can I do to make a difference, how can I help? Gerard was able to give me the URL of the British charity that help[s the orphanage, but he said it gives only one side of the story. I'll look it up when I get home, but I need to find out the reality of it too. I asked if sending toys or clothes would be useful, but he told me that what they really need is money. So, I'll send money, and I think it's something we should know about in our cosy, safe lives. I noticed on someone's Facebook profile that they'd been watching "Children in Need" that night. These kids are in need, serious need. I don't know if kids in Vietnamese orphanages benefit from the millions of pounds we donate to Children in Need, but their need is as great as kids in Britain, in Africa, or anywhere else in the world. If anyone wants to see the website for Hoi An orphanage, it's www.kianh.org.uk. If you want to help, help these kids because few tourists visit. In Saigon or Ha Noi, tourists visit and give basic drugs, nappies, milk formula, toys, but few go to Hoi An orphanage. I long now to be home with my own family, to spend time with Nathaniel who is a fortunate child indeed.
