My Time at Kidane Mehret

When I was in volunteering in Ethiopia, I spent an afternoon at Kidane Mehret (the orphanage mentioned in yesterday's post and pictured above). It was a really difficult afternoon. I met a child there who, I was told, had just recently arrived. I don't know what her story was or how she ended up at KM but she was a beautiful little girl with a head of dark curls, about 6. She was very shy but would let a smile slip out from time to time. She enjoyed having her picture taken and by the end of the afternoon would sit close to me or right on my lap and just smile and smile. I can't imagine how she must have been feeling, recently orphaned and surrounded by strangers and not speaking a word of Amharic. She is on my lap in this photo.


I also met a set of 12 year old boy/girl twins. I played soccer with the boy for a bit and after awhile he felt comfortable and sat down to speak with me. I was blown away at how polite he was an that he spoke impeccable English. After talking for awhile, he learned that I was planning to adopt. After a few more questions he inquired about what age child I wanted. When he learned I was thinking of an infant girl, the look on his face told me he had had this conversation before. He was way too polite to say what was on his mind but I knew he wondered why the babies were always chosen. He then uttered words I will never forget. He said, "When you go back to America can you help me and my sister find a family?" At that moment I was cursing not being married cause it would be so much easier to adopt 12 year old twins with a spouse but I knew I couldn't do it as a single woman. I did promised him though that I would try to find them a family. When I got back to the States I did bring them up to a couple of friends of mine and hoped they would be interested but I was unable to truly fulfill his request. I still feel guilty about that. I wonder where he and his sister are.

We spent some time playing outside with the older kids and then went up to the nursery to visit the babies. The nursery was a small room with rows and rows of metal cribs filled with sweet, adorable babies. Some were sleeping; others were just staring out into space waiting for someone to notice them. It was as if they learned that crying wouldn't bring any comfort so why bother? It was eerily quiet. I remember speaking to a very kind nun, also with excellent English. In just the hour or so I visited with her I could tell she was a loving, kind soul-- dedicating her life to taking care of these orphans.

The hardest part of the day by far, though, was seeing a little girl with what appeared to be hydrocephalus. Her head must have been 3x the normal size and she was lying on a counter unable to sit up or move around. She was facing a blank, white wall but every now and then a nun would come by and speak to her or rub her belly or smooth down her hair. They clearly cared for her but there were simply not enough nuns on staff to attend to her every need. Absolutely heartbreaking. The image of her lying there was etched in my mind for a long, long time-- the extreme unfairness of it all. No family, no healthcare, no one to attend to her needs and keep her comfortable and happy and entertained. No one to sing to her or teach her things. No joy. Just lying on her back, day in, day out. I was told that a family wanted to adopt her but since they weren't sure she would survive the flight she was not cleared for adoption. I think we all knew they were just keeping her comfortable until she passed away.