Back from La Ola Orphanage

When I arrived in Guadalajara, Mexico I was expecting a whole lot more danger than what I ran into.  The stories that people had scared me with before I left America had rooted in my mind.  I got off the tiny plane and walked into immigration.

"You," said a man, looking at me and pointing to a desk a few feet away.  I walked to it quickly as though I would be wasting their time if I walked slowly.  The lady at the desk said something in Spanish, and I quickly regretted not spending every minute before I left Tennessee immersed in learning Espanol.

"Hablas Espanol?" she asked.  I knew what that meant.

"No, sorry," I said, guilty.

"No problem," she said and stamped a piece of paper.  I thanked her and continued through customs where a man in a green uniform, with a machine gun hanging loosed over his arm, searched my guitar and bag.

"Beautiful guitar," he said in English.  He chatted with me for a few minutes while he searched for drugs or what-not and then let me pass.  When I walked through the door I saw my new friend, Abby immediately and we walked to a rusty red van and rode to the orphanage.

The children greeted me sweetly when I arrived and Abby and I began working on lunch.  Tuna with everything on a tostada.  The kids lined up and got their food and ate quickly.  They started asking questions in spanish and no matter how hard I listened, I just couldn't understand.

"We're going swimming at a friend's house," said Abby.  I suddenly wished that I had packed a swimsuit.

"You can ride with me," said a woman, with a personality just like mine.  I knew we would be fast friends.

"Great," I said, following her to the car with some of the older Mexican girls.  It took no time at all to get to the house because Barbara and I talked the entire way.

"I fit here.  I really fit here, and I just arrived," I thought quietly, as I got out of the small car and walked inside the gate.  An entire table of wonderful looking people greeted me and beckoned me to sit and talk with them.  Some told jokes and other told stories about the military and service experience.  They told me about the kids and how loving the Mexican people were towards them.  We talked for hours, and I listened to their stories about how they came to be in Mexico and before I knew it, it was time to leave.

The next day after church, one of the girls, Nayeli came up to me as I finished lunch.  "You go swimming with me?"  She had snagged me.  I was a goner.  I would most definitely be coming back to stay.

"Yes," I told her, thinking it had been a good idea to bring my thin, brown shorts.  I changed and she grabbed my hand, leading me to the rusty red van.  We looked like a can of packed tuna as we rode to the park pool.  And I looked like one of those sharks that has those little sucker fish all over him when I got in the pool, because six girls clung to me as we swam in the green water.  It was amazing how much Spanish I learned in those few hours.

That night before bed, Esme, a seven year old bundle of responsibility asked me if I would sing and play them a song on the guitar.  "Canter, Canter," she said, pleading.  I pulled out my sunburst guitar and strummed lightly as the girls climbed in bed.  Esme looked over the top of her bunk (my bunk was below hers) and watched as I picked out "Wonderful Tonight," by Eric Clapton.  I climbed into my small bunk when I finished playing and all I could hear was soft crying coming from the bed above me.

A few days later a four year old girl, Jessie, fell asleep on my lap on the porch.  She started shivering, even though it was 70 plus degrees outside, and I grabbed a small blanket to cover her.  While she slept, I helped fix dinner and get plates out for the kids when they got home from school.  I saw Jessie stir, get up and head to her room.  I gave some plates to the children who had just walked through the door and went to check on Jessie.  She said something in Spanish but I only caught a few words.  Ropa=Clothes  Pee pee=Pee pee.  I helped her clean up and put her in the shower.  I washed her hair and went to get a towel while she finished.  When she was dressed, she asked if she could eat and I lead her to the kitchen to get her a plate of food.

"Gracias, Mommie," she said taking her plate.  I stood in shock as she ran happily outside to eat, tears filling my eyes.  "This is what it's all about," I thought.  "Letting these children feel safe and loved.  And I want to spend my life doing it."


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Sadly, I don't have time to write every single story on here today.  I'll probably write more later though.  But I had the most wonderful time.  Thanks for keeping me in your prayers!  :)

Now roll the pictures!

Esme, Millie, Rahina & Ana Karen

Campfire Songs before it rained

View from the orphanage

Me and Rahina

Nayeli

Carlos, Roderigo, Maria & Marla

Esme, Rahina, Noelia & Nayeli

Millie & Jessie