an orphanage

This post is a bit late...but I wanted to give some more detail about why I thought the orphanage in a nearby village was so appalling when we were in Moldova. Here's some of what I wrote after visiting:

"We went to a village on Sunday to see an orphanage and play with some kids there. We took a 20 minutes bus ride to there. On the way, Rachel told us that we'd be working with a 100-ish kids, and [admittedly] I was stressed out because I feld we weren't ready for it. We had a list of games, but I was trying not to panic. I remember praying on the way to the orphanage.

It was appalling.
First of all, we walked into the gates, and the yard was full of kids--all ages. The grounds around the buildings were barren and unkept. No grass or much of anything green growing. There were grown men (most in their late teens/early twenties) playing soccer in the field. These guys had no real connection to the orphanage, but were from the town and just using the grounds. Gave me an uneasy feeling for the kids--all these guys and little/no adult supervision with the kids around. At first I was completely overwhelmed by the number of kids outside, especially as I thought we were going to have to organize games with all of them.
The buildings were Soviet-era looking: grey, concrete blocks, run down. Adriana talked to some of the kids who then took us to a main office, but as the main person wasn't there we want up into one of the dorms. It had cracked floors, old doors, grey, dirty, chipped paint, broken light bulbs. Dingy is the word that comes to mind.
We followed Adriana and the kids into a room where one of the orphanage workers was located. She and another worker told us about the orphanage while John and Rachel translated. Currently, 400 kids live at this place, but over the last year 400 others had been moved/"re-integrated" back into families. So the kids that were left didn't have parents. Evidently there is a government intitiative in Moldova to close down all the orphanages by 2012. That means getting all those kids into families by that time--or sending them back to thier own families, which could include only grandparents or a guardian who is an alcoholic or can't provide basic needs.
She explained that the kids who are still on the grounds on a Sunday afternoon really have no one to care for them--as most of the kids who have parents around will spend Sundays with them. And she was telling us all this while kids were in the room, in such a matter-of-fact manner while the kids were right there. The 5 or 6 kids in the room could hear the stories of their lives compacted and abridged for some random foreigners. I felt like thier stories were being treated so impersonally. There we were, 12 foriegners just watching and listening like the kids were just objects to be observed. I hope we didn't give off that vibe, but I felt like it.
I thought about how each one of those kids needed so much one-on-one healthy interactions with an adult to help the healing process. And that each of them had their individual chasm of life hurt, experience, wounding. And a mere couple of hours wouldn't or couldn't change that.
The main room where we gathered to listen was a hodge-podge of carpets and chairs and curtains hanging. It was not warm or inviding or orderly for the kids. The rooms that the children sleep in are bare. Beds against the wall with sheets and 1 blanket. The decorations were of pictures colored with crayon, or make-up or skin-cream ads. It was sad to me that these young girls would compare themselves to an unrealistic "beauty" as defined by a company wanting to sell a product. It was so stark and a bit disgusting to me, that the kids have to live like this.
We walked to a whole other building, where there were only primary school-aged kids: kindergarden and 1st graders that lived there. Their rooms were little different, and we played games with these children in a large room with a piano. All of these kids are little ones who don't have anyone to come and get them or spend time with them on a Sunday afternoon. We played red light/green light, hot potato, Steal the Bacon, etc. The kids seemed to love it. It was hard to reconcile coming in for such a short time and then leaving with pictures. I am grateful to have pictures of the children, but difficult to think that any difference was made in their lives during that time. Angelique (ST member) said that at least it provided a distraction for a while, an opportunity for them to just be children for a bit.
Walking out was overwhelming--to see the kids, each with their own stories and to know or think about the hours needed by a caring adult to love each child. Someone to walk alongside each kid, to live life and provide support and love and guidance for each one. It was that same feeling that I had watching the DCG all-grade band concert last year: all these kids--who will love them and see them and remind them they are valuable?