the past few days have been ones of drastic contrast. Mr. Mullally loves telling the story of our meeting the notorious former police leader Renato Adams. in the story this meeting is likened to a snakebite that needed an antidote. luckily the story has a happy ending and Jamaicans for Justice co-founder and badass Carolyn Gomes sneaks in just in time to save us. while maybe not as easily analogized, the days since have held similar dichotomies, challenging our perceptions in a big way.
after our Adams visit on thursday, friday held our first full day at Marigold. and it was definitely full. during our morning time in the nursery we got to bring some of the babies out of their cribs and put them on the small bed that sits in the center of the nursery. the babies were so adorable playing with each other, giggling as they playfully wrestled a broken rattle from one another's pudgy little hands. it was incredible to watch them interact knowing that the time they are able to spend touching another person is so limited and so precious. the babies spend almost all of their time in cribs, and, although they are all lined up against one another, they are only able to pull themselves up to the top of the bars and look over at their neighbor. but despite the limit imposed on their interaction, the babies have definitely not forgotten how to play with one another.
Marigold does not send their children to school in the building in the backyard when it is raining (i know this sounds really weird--we've been told that it is either because of the children's asthma, leaks in the school building's ceiling, or the tempting mud that lies between the home and the school), so the children were inside the whole day. about mid-morning one of the nurses, a sweet woman who always wears white tops with little red and pink roses printed on them and has the brightest smile named Mrs. Grant turned on Franklin for the children to watch. Tara and i asked if it would be alright to read to children if they wanted to and we soon found ourselves encircled by children sitting cross-legged on the tile of the veranda listening to Sammy the Seal and Carebears: Everyday is a Cheerific Day.
i sat with a precious little girl named Danielle who is learning to spell her name but keeps forgetting the "i" in it and does not like it when she colors out of the lines. she picked the Sammy book and we began reading by talking through the title, going over every letter and its sound. as we read, Danielle pointed out every number on the bottom of the page and remembered every little detail about the story. by the third time through the book Danielle could practically dictate it, telling me that "this is the page when Mr. Johnson feeds the seals fish and then it is all gone" and "that's a zebra." she named all of the people in the book after her friends at Marigold, breathlessly laughing as she donned a blonde-haired, rosy-cheeked little girl in the story "Rodge" (an adorably pudgy little boy). she loved reading. she listened to every word, following the print on the page as i read aloud, chiming in with "seal!" whenever she recognized the word. reading with Danielle, i was just overcome with thoughts of my own little sister. my little sister could read before even entering kindergarten; now as she approaches 10 she is devouring series of chapter books, befriending Laura Ingalls and laughing at the humor of Lemony Snicket. and Danielle is almost seven. and does not know what the letter "A" looks like.
maybe it is my obsession with education, but i am just heartbroken at the thought of these children being robbed of the chance to learn. they crave knowledge, a want and need so apparent in their interactions with books (except for Jumani-he just likes to rip them up) that i am sometimes surprised when Davian does not poke himself in the eye trying to bring the pages and what they hold closer and closer. Tara and i have both been so compelled by their desire to embrace the scribbled nonsense under the pictures. we just so hope for the opportunity and wisdom to make learning available for them.
we got to talk to the teachers of Marigold on friday as well and they talked to us about the possibility of a festive fundraiser in july for the children. and she told us we get to do our first craft with the children on wednesday. aah!
saturday was our first day away from Marigold since arriving. and it was weird. it was strange to have a full day in the other side of Kingston, the side of pillows and water and wants. we started our day with a wonderful vinyasa flow yoga session and meditation, something that made me think about my sweet friend Katie who is about to travel to India to teach yoga to Hindu widows. and it made me realize how connected we all are. and how cool she is.
and today was, admittedly, a huge challenge. we spent today on a yacht in the bay of Kingston, parked feet away from a pristine plot of sand laced with sea shells and picturesque drift wood. and as we floated in the crystalline water this afternoon, i wished so much that my friends from Ferry were there with us. or instead of us. i was just so rattled thinking that we have only been here for a week and have been instantly swept up into the charmed life here. and as we dined on deck above the cabin below, the children at Marigold napped on the tile floor and Joan struggled to magically create a meal for sweet Abigail and Moses in their Ferry home. but, in trying to find sense in this contrast, i was really taught a lesson on judgement today. i was taught that my aperture does not let in much light and makes for a very narrowly focused picture. today, for reasons put in place by Someone always patiently, graciously hoping to teach me to love, i was reminded that possessions-no matter if it is an excess or lack of-cannot heal, fill or suture wounds on our hearts.
and tonight Tara and i wrote a letter that we will send out tomorrow hoping it will return with the means for a new playground for the children of Marigold. and we started a PayPal account to collect donations for this cause. and we wrote out a calendar of the next seven weeks. and drank honey ginger tea. and enjoyed the blessing of making a wish list for Marigold that could come true.
with gratitude,
eeb
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