gettin' crowded

Last Wednesday afternoon as Britta and I settled into our routine, several people came by the orphan home. This isn't entirely uncommon considering the fact that neighbors come by to chat, check out the goings on, and stare at us rather regularly; however, come night time this young mother with her infant boy and a toddler girl were still hanging out. It wasn't until Laxmi came by with her frantic personality to explain that the young mother's husband had recently died of liver cancer and the toddler girl was just orphaned by both parents' death. Soooo we just added 3 new members to the crew.

Considering the fact that Laxmi knows little English, we have slowly put puzzle pieces together with certain childrens' circumstances. It pretty much goes that the 'government police' calls either Laxmi or Prim to see if there is any room for the stranded souls. Granted the situation and the nature of the orphan home, it is so difficult to refuse sanctuary when Nepal is such a poor country with no government financial support. And so it is that a healthy 22 of us live in this 3 bedroom home ranging from a 15-month-old baby to a 27-year-old house dad.

To say that things are getting cramped is an understatement. I can't imagine what this young mother (who looks as if she could be 18 or 25 year old) has been through and the absolute thankfulness she harbors for food and a roof and smiling, embracing faces, but her dang baby cries all the time and she can really only help out with things when he is taking his nap. Did I mention that he eats more than any other child I've met...there is no shame in breast-feeding this big boy every 45 minutes or so.

That brings me to an interesting bit of irony we have come across in our time at Harka. The children who have the parents are by far the neediest and most annoying. There are several perspectives worth factoring in after such a comment. For one, to move into a home of 15 children just 1 1/2 years ago, can only make an already clinging 5-year-old Samjana and an undisciplined, lazy 7-year-old Ishwor, all the more desperate for their biological parents' attention and affection. The problem there is that neither Kumari, 23-year-old half-pint, cook, regular stomper of baisi dung-->compost whose loud voice immodulation screams into the face of an already crying Tulie to go to the bathroom and equally shouts 'Welcome' whenever we give her a 'Thank you', and her husband, Prim, a 27-year-old clean freak, whose middle-of-the-night random yellings have made Britta and I diagnose him with 'Sleeper Turrets' and who not only busts out in random Nepali song but also enjoys being the patriarch, neither give that much attention OR affection...to their own children, or any children, for that matter.

So these two children have an interesting environment where they are not made to do any chores like every other child (including 3-year-old Ashish who waddles back and forth from well to squatter making it shine), get extra treats like biscuits and fruit, sleep-in until food's ready, and get a bed the size Britta and I share to themselves (when our 4 preteen girls are sharing one). Needless to say, there is a lack of discipline, resulting in us calling Samjana bratface too frequently..she just smiles, laughs, and goes on to annoy someone else. It is hard to love this child. And then I remind myself of the fact that this girl who naturally is craving everyone's attention can't even get any from her own mother who in one day gained too many competing siblings, and the Lord grants me compassion. Ishwor, who is good in English for his age, curious about music (probably because his father listens and sings it too loud all the time), and tends to get along with the other children well, is just plain lazy...and I have a hard time handling laziness.

And so, with this latest addition of crying baby in the wee hours of the morning, it has caused us to seek a tad bit more refuge or places of silence (but those don't exactly exist with toddlers watching your every move to place a head on your side or make you watch them clasp their hands in the air...as if they're catching pockets of wind). In other words, Britta and I are looking forward to our little getaway. We leave Tuesday morning and return Thursday afternoon. We're hoping for a bit better connection to hopefully post more pictures and tell you of the adventures on the back of an elephant.

But I couldn't sign off before letting you know of a precious invitation the kiddos have given me and Britta. Not only have the children insisted that we come to their school program (to our knowledge, it's a field day/dance program/awards day that only parents are invited to) for the past week which takes place the majority of the day tomorrow, but they have also officially stopped calling us 'Miss', and started getting our attention with 'Didi' which stands for big sister. The first time I heard Sirjana say it to Britta and the following night have Soniya tell me, 'You no Miss, you Didi,' with her big grin lighted by an intimate fire, it was as if sunshine entered every pore of my body. What warmth, pure love, divine acceptance...what a glorious reward.