Orphanage Visit

Wynn was up, ready, and watching the clock to make sure we would be on time for the orphanage tour.  When we arrived, she was out of the van and heading off quickly.  The guide had to call her back.  She can’t wander where she wants to go; she has to stay with the tightly controlled tour group.

They took us to a small room to wait until an official (assistant director?) came, and we were supposed to be able to ask questions about our childrens’ histories.  (Michael and I & the other family who has a little boy from this orphanage.)  Then, they told Wynn she could take her presents to her friends, and she jumped up and ran out of the room, excited.  We were told to wait.  Apparently, we were not supposed to be part of this.

The tour began with the room Wynn slept in.  This causes some confusion for me.  I know she has a foster mom and was in the “foster village,” but she had a bed at the orphanage as well.  She definitely knew her way around and knew the people.  We asked if that was because she went to school here.  No, school is somewhere else.  Answers were vague and unsatisfying.  But while we were looking at the room, Wynn disappeared and returned with a young lady who was said to be Wynn’s “very good friend.”  They chattered, and Wynn went through the bags of gifts, designating to her friend who was to get what, and they wrote the names on pieces of paper.  This friend will do the distributing after we leave.  Or so they tell us.  (There were Barbie dolls, stuffed animals, candies.)  Then they urged us to hurry on to the next tour stop.  The good friend of Wynn’s was shorter and stouter than Wynn, with freckles, and at least as old as Wynn.  I can’t help spend time wondering what is going to happen to her.  I took her hand and said “Ni hao.  Xie xie pengyou.”  (Hi.  Thank you, friend.)

They told us we could photograph the outside of the building and the empty rooms, but no children, to protect the children’s privacy.  With an iPhone held casually at Michael’s side, I think we got some video of Wynn and her friend dividing the pile of presents.  We can show her someday.  I don’t think now.

The next stop was to look through windows at the room for babies 6 months and older.  I counted 60 beds. What more can I say?  They told us there are 100 children in the orphanage and 500 in the foster village.

Stop #3 was the “under 6 months” infant room.  Again, through windows, like looking in the nursery at a hospital. Some babies, so beautiful, sleeping.  Then a really tiny baby started crying with that distinct new baby single-tone cry that no mother can resist, only there were no adults in the room, and they hurried us along.

The next room had 3 children, whom we were told have “very big problems.”  We were allowed to enter this room.  I think they are confident that few tourists want to stay long in these rooms, so we can go in.  Ha! They haven’t met me!  The first girl was in a wheelchair for reasons I’m unsure of; she also had Down Syndrome.  I could not get her to look at me or respond to me at all.   The second girl, an older child, had cerebral palsy.  I sang “Shake Your Sillies Out” to her and jiggled her wheelchair (you at CPT know the game I play).  She smiled and smiled and tried to hold onto me.  The 3^rd child was an infant, I think a girl, in a horrible slouched position in a bouncy sling chair.  She was having a hard time breathing, pharyngeal congestion, and was a little bit cyanotic (bluish fingers).  She needed to be in a hospital.  Obviously, she has a feeding disorder and compromised respiratory system, and I am going to hypothesize a heart condition as well.   I understand that sometimes they don’t seek medical attention (e.g. surgical corrections) until they are sure the child is strong enough to live.  I wonder if this little one will make it.  I wonder if Wynn looked like that when she came here.  They waited on her heart surgery too.

The next stop was where three children were receiving “therapy.”  That seemed to mean being positioned in certain ways and strapped down, though the strapping seemed to be to hold the position only.  When one girl wanted to sit up to interact with me, they untied her right away and let her independently remove the sad thing that was being used as an AFO.  I think they were getting tired of me interfering with the children.  I played briefly with another little boy, and they pulled me away, saying “Bye bye” in English.  I only got to say  “Zai jian” to the other little boy, who was tied on his therapy table but smiling to have visitors.  Michael was talking to him.

There was a room where a teacher of some kind was teaching a class to the nannies.

After that, another room, this one with only two children.  One was a toddler, who was playing a toddler fishing game with a nanny.  The other was a boy, 8-10 or so, who appeared to have an autism spectrum disorder.  He was sitting, curled up, spinning a bead on a toddler toy. When we entered, he covered his ears from the noise, and when I approached him, he hid his face and rocked. At first, I walked away because he clearly did not want stimulation.  Then I said, “That boy needs some deep pressure,” and I walked back without permission and gave him the firmest bear hug I could.  And he smiled and pulled me back for more, and more.  The official was making it clear we needed to leave, but he was clinging to my hand, grabbing my jacket, and holding onto my backpack strap.  I had to physically detach him, and we were led back out of the building.  Tour over.

Wynn seemed just fine the whole time.  No tears, even when leaving her friend with the gifts.  Not me.

They were not able or willing to answer any questions.  Was Wynn found with a note or any personal items.  “Mei you.”  (Don’t have.)  She is in the second year of middle school.  She’s not a very good student, only average.  They start English study in the 3^rd year of school, but only basic words.  She did express interest in being adopted about one year ago, and from their point of view at least, she participated in the decision.  That's it.