Day 8: Wednesday, July 13

Late last night we boarded the train after a sad goodbye, and hopped off in Bucharest at 5am. Luckily though, we were able to check into our hotel early and take a nap. But our day quickly started again at 10am when we arrived at the hospital. It was the same one we had visited our first day in Romania and we were excited to see the babies again.

Much like the first day, we played with them and fed them in the colorful playroom until 12, when we headed out for lunch. The group was tired after the long night on the train and the early start, so we returned to the playroom and rested on the carpet until the babies were ready to come out again.

At 3pm the babies were brought back into the playroom. Soon after we were told that there were enough volunteers today to take kids outside. We jumped at the opportunity and each picked up a child and brought them down the stairs and out onto the playground. Although they were young and many couldn’t walk, we sat with them outside and were glad that they were able to get some fresh air.

While we were at the hospital that day, one of the little girls we had gotten to know was taken away from the rest of the kids and out of the playroom. When we asked where she was going, we were informed that the little girl had been placed in foster care and was leaving to meet with her new foster parents. Although we wished she could have stayed to play with us, we were all thrilled that she was going to be part of a family!

At 5pm the babies had to return to their cribs – the saddest part of the day. We formed a circle and sang a goodbye song before they had to go. The group was exhausted from the long, tiring day and we each collapsed on the chairs when the kids were gone. After resting for a short while, we realized that we were leaving for London tomorrow, and figured we ought to venture out for out last dinner. Hoping food would give us some more energy, we climbed into a taxi and rode to a sports bar not far from our hotel.

Over food, we talked about our experiences throughout the week, and things that had stood out to us, things that we would always remember and take away with us. Although our experiences were varied, we all agreed on one thing: tomorrow, we had to make the most of our last morning with the babies.  

Day 7: Tuesday, July 12

         Although tired, the group set out today with renewed energy and enthusiastic attitudes. We were going to the placement center again, but this time we were bringing clothes! It was one of the things we had wanted to do since the beginning of the trip. When we first met the kids, we were sometimes confused by their gender, simply because many of the little boys were wearing pick and floral patterns; basically, the kids were dressed in whatever fit. It didn’t help either that their hair is cut short because it was easier to take care of on a day-to-day basis as well as during a breakout of lice.

          So we arrived in the morning, carrying our bag of clothes to a noisy playroom. We said good morning to the children and began to show the staff and hospital workers what we had brought. In no time at all they were putting our clothes on the kids and thanking us profusely. One little girl immediately went for a pink, flower-cover tank top and modeled it around, and then quickly disappeared around a corner. When she came back, she was sporting bright pink sunglasses, shaped like flowers with a wide, bright smile to match.  We each grabbed the hands of a newly-outfitted kid and headed down to the park, seeing the joy in each of their faces – young children and adults alike.

          I would describe our first day at the placement center as shocking. We all froze as we entered the playroom, never having faced such a sight. It was heartbreaking seeing the multitude of handicapped children in a space that simply was not suited to accommodate them all – and on top of that, having no parents to look after them. On the second day, after we had played with the children some more, the tragic reality of it all seemed to slip to the back of our minds as we focused on having fun and making the kids laugh.  Only when we had to leave did it hit us again – now they have no one to play with, no one who can hold them and give them their undivided attention. Today, I think we all felt different. Walking into the center we were cheerful and we greeted the children by name. There were smiles all around as we walked to the park and swung and took pictures. The group really got to know the children – their personalities and what they liked. We were bonding with the kids, which is imperative for their development. And knowing that not only our material donations, but our time, had a positive impact is very rewarding. None of us were thinking about that at the time however, because thinking about actuality evoked a polar opposite emotion to that which we felt when playing with the kids. The steep changes in emotion were overwhelming, and after a while, we were trying as hard as possible to get through the days without letting reality set in. Only now do we realize what exactly was going on. Our volunteer work consisted of making kids laugh, giving them attention, and spreading love – hardly work at all!

             

Day 6: Monday, July 11

Crocs and smocks at the Hospital!

        Monday morning we visited yet another hospital. The group woke up early to travel to a very nice hospital in Bistrita. At 9am, we entered a medium-sized room with big windows and six cribs along the walls. There was children’s music playing and flowers painted on the walls – the whole atmosphere was different from the other places we had been to. The hospital was exceptionally clean and looked vey new.

        We were introduced to four very young baby girls who were being looked after by a handful of nurses. The babies were all under a year old, but older than five months. The music playing was cheerful while we held the babies and bottle-fed them. They all were calm, none of them crying while we were there. Sadly, however, we had to leave after an hour to go back to the placement center. And although we were sad to leave, we knew that these four girls were in good care and being looked after by loving staff.

So at 10am the group ventured back to the placement center once again. As we entered the grounds, the weather was dismal and grey, foreshadowing a storm. We walked through the gates to the center and were shocked at the sight before us. What would normally be a happy scene – kids playing on the playground – was sad and heartbreaking. They all stared at us, silent, as we walked up to the overgrown and crumbling play area. The colorful paint on the seesaw was chipping and although the kids were playing on the equipment, none of them were smiling or laughing. The clouds hung dramatically over the scene as we tried to coax smiles out of the kids unsuccessfully.

                The weather did not let up, and it soon started to rain, the sky getting darker and darker. We helped the staff get the kids inside, and we brought the children we had worked with earlier in the week into a playroom upstairs. Although the setting was happier, the kids still sat silently as we played with them. Although the majority of them were at the talking age, most of them could not speak because they were underdeveloped. Despite this, we got to know the kids through their reactions and expressions, and started to see their personalities.

                At noon, the group was getting hungry and had to leave the center for lunch. So we said goodbye to the kids, hoping to see them again in happier circumstances. The rest of the day we spent meeting some of Wendy’s friends. We felt truly lucky meeting such warm-hearted people, knowing that our experience was unique and unlike one of a tourist or other volunteers.

                Although some parts of our day had been gloomy and dismal, we had high hopes for the rest of the week. The group planned on bringing new clothes to the children at the placement center, and hopefully a new stroller as well, since they were down to one after a wheel rolled off the other. We looked forward to seeing them again, as we had gotten over some of our ignorance regarding disabilities and were really starting to get to know the kids. 

Day 5: Sunday, July 10

        We spent our Sunday morning at church. We got dressed up for mass, which started at 10am, and walked down the street to one of the houses. A family in Bistrita, who moved to Romania from Idaho, had converted their garage into a Church. The family had come over on a mission from their Calvary Church. The family - a mom and dad with four kids who attended the local Romanian school – greeted us in the driveway while we waited for others to show up. They were very inviting as they offered us tea and coffee and welcomed us into their Church.

At 10, everyone filed into the refurbished garage to start mass. We found seats just as music began to play. Mass started with religious songs in Romanian sung by a young girl who attends church with her mother and father. She was accompanied by a guitar player and a projection screen with the lyrics. The music was light and easy to listen to and was a perfect way to bring together the children and adults despite the difference in language. After a few songs, however, the children were asked to leave for Sunday school, and were escorted into the house for a separate teaching.

Mass was long, as after each thing was said in English, it needed to be translated into Romanian, and at noon, we politely and appreciatively said goodbye.

We headed towards the other side of town to meet Lucia* and Marc* and their sister Michaela*- three orphaned children who were in foster care. However, when we arrived, only Lucia was there to greet us: Michaela was out with friends and Marc was playing soccer at the park. Lucia invited our group into her living room while we waited for her siblings to arrive. We learned that she was attending music school and plays classical guitar. Naturally, we asked her to play for us. All the while, her brother, Marc, had returned from the heat outside.

There were seven of us in the living room, and although we fit comfortably, it was an awkward scene. Lucia and Marc seemed uncomfortable with us being there and were very quiet despite their remarkable English. We asked many questions – about school and sports and music – but they remained reserved and seemingly skeptical of their visitors. Conversation was difficult and sounded forced, but it was better than silence.

Soon, Marc called his sister, Michaela, and was told that she would not be back in time for lunch, so, with this information, we all left the apartment and headed for Pizza Tonight, eager for lunch. While walking to the restaurant, my mom, brother and Marc began chatting about soccer and Sammy and Lucia engaged in conversation about music. The outdoors seemed to be lightening the mood.

The group had been to Pizza Tonight before (a few times before), but it was Lucia’s favorite restaurant and Marc didn’t mind it either. Quickly after we ordered the group began chatting again, headed by Marc and Lucia’s frequent questions. The whole dynamic of conversation had changed since we had gotten to the restaurant and the kids were quite talkative. And as lunch went on, we found them charming and funny and very polite.  

Although we were sad that lunch was over, my mom and I happily skipped down the sidewalk with Marc as we headed towards his house. We passed by a park on the way, bustling with kids, and stopped to play.  Lucia and I tried all the different sets of jungle gyms with the boys started a soccer game with some other children on the grass nearby. Not long after, Lucia and I joined them. Although the ball was a bit flat, and the grass a little too long, it was a fun match.

We didn’t want to leave, but the sky was getting darker and the group needed to get home, so we walked Lucia and Marc back to the apartment. We hugged and said goodbye on the stairs – Marc and Eric wished each other good luck with soccer as we wished Lucia luck with guitar. It was sad to leave them, knowing that we wouldn’t see them again, but we were thankful to have met them. They were happy and well-mannered and showed us the hope that organizations like RCR have for orphaned children. They made an impression on us that we will not soon forget and we can only hope we did the same for them.

Lucia and Marc – we miss you!  

*Names have been changed in the best interest of the children. 

Day 4: Saturday, July 9

        Our fourth day in Romania started late. We were able to catch up on sleep and relax a little. It was nice to be able to sleep in because keeping the children entertained was exhausting as they had so much energy! The weather has been relentlessly hot and walking around the city was tiring, so the sleep was much needed.

                The afternoon before, we visited Maria* and her family in their home. Maria is a young girl who has been adopted after being in foster care and who is Wendy’s goddaughter. We arrived at their house in the mid-afternoon. We stepped into their driveway to greet the family as Maria ran straight to Wendy and embraced her with a huge grin. Shortly afterwards, Maria introduced herself to each one of us with an extended hand and a warm smile.
The whole family was very welcoming as they showed us around their yard. We were greeted by barking dogs and meowing kittens as Maria’s grandmother showed us the animals they keep. We met a white and grey spotted cat with kittens, two dogs – one of which was not happy to see us – and a multitude of rabbits. Wendy told us that they used to keep pigs, but they had been eaten a while back. Her mother and sister led us into their house and directed us to the living room. They had sweets and drinks for us, and offered them graciously. We spread out around the living room – our group and their family, joined by a friend of Wendy’s who spoke both English and Romanian and helped us communicate throughout the day.

As a small baby, Maria was living in a placement center because her mother had abandoned her at birth. Luckily, she was soon moved into foster care at 7 months old and was placed with the family she is with now. The old government in Romania gave foster parents a salary, but when Maria was 3, the law changed to state that in order to receive the stipend, the family needed at least two children in their care. Wendy had been visiting regularly (2-3 times a year) since they had met when Maria was 3 months old and was happy to see Maria thriving in a stable home. However, the family could not take in another child, meaning that they would no longer be able to take care of Maria without the monthly stipend. Wendy made an agreement with the family: she would provide financial support equivalent to the previous salary if the family formally adopted Maria.

That day we experienced something truly unique: not only were we experiencing true Romanian culture in a traditional Romanian household, but we got to meet a girl who embodies hope and the success of the placement programs. Maria is a happy, beautiful and polite girl who was a pleasure to meet. Her family – her parents, sisters, aunt, and grandmother – welcomed us into their household with kindness and made us feel comfortable and welcome in an unfamiliar setting.

Maria’s birthday is soon, so on our fourth day we went shopping for a birthday present of her choice at the ‘Winmarkt” and went out to lunch later in the afternoon.  All in all, meeting Maria and her family taught us many things. It taught us more about the hope for the children we are working with and it taught us about Romanian culture. As we left their house, the grandmother – their bunică –  gave us lots of hugs and good wishes. As we were leaving for our hotel, the chickens came out to play. 
*Name has been changed in the best interest of the child.

Day 3: Friday, July 8

After being shaken around all night on the sleeper train, we came to a stop at the Bistrita station at 6:50am. We were glad to be off of the moving train and back on steady ground, however, our attitudes soon changed when we saw that we had been dropped off right in the middle of the tracks! But, we had no time to spare, so we picked up our bags, got off the tracks and walked over to the RCR apartment. Although the group was not staying there, it was far too early to check into the hotel.

At the apartment we ate breakfast and were introduced to the director of the RCR programs. He was endlessly thankful for our help and support. He stayed for a while, explaining all the different programs that had been put in place, and again thanked us for making the trip to volunteer in the programs.

The group went out to an orphanage that doubled as a placement center for disabled children in the late morning. There we met children with severe autism and other disorders. We were greeted by Child D, a girl who, despite her severe autism, walked right over to our group and held our hands. Although the majority of the young children there had severe handicaps, some smaller babies had no apparent disabilities and would soon be placed in foster care.

What I first noticed upon entering was a harsh contrast: it was startling and shocking, and almost scary. The pink-colored room and smiling paintings of cartoons exuded happiness. Even the children seemed happy to be playing with each other in an open playroom. But their situation – abandoned and disabled – was their heartbreaking reality. This contrast made me uncomfortable after my initial feeling of utter shock. These children have no parents, some of them have conditions that were progressively getting worse, yet they were still smiling and laughing. The shocking scene evoked fear: I was afraid to do something that would point out the reality of their situation, and I was afraid to upset them. But even stronger than my emotion of fear was the feeling of hope. It drew the shocked volunteers towards the kids, knowing that we have the ability to make their lives a little bit brighter.

Perhaps my fear was in reaction to Child M. Looking around the small playroom, I noticed two connecting rooms where the toddlers slept. In a large crib was a dark-haired boy was rocking back and forth, a common result of neglect as a baby. I tried not to stare. When I looked back, he was out of the crib, walking on tip-toes very hesitantly. He didn’t seem to have full control of his movements and his steps were shaky. What kept me watching was his stare, it was disturbing and it made me somewhat afraid. He slowly made his way out into the big playroom and the nurses introduced him. Child M is blind and is severely mentally handicapped.  He still sleeps in a crib even though he is 9 years old and he was not going to come to the park with us.

Although we had a large volunteer group, like the day before, not all of the children were allowed to come and play with us. We were going to a park down the street with children whose ages ranged from 2 to about 9, but before we left  we were introduced to a girl who was lying, unmoving, on a mattress. Child K was young, and has cerebral palsy as well as microcephalus that is progressively getting worse. It was hard to imagine anything worse than the situation she was in at that moment. She was entirely still, except for her blinking eyes. Her legs were knotted and twisted over each other; it was painful to look at.

 I eagerly jumped at the chance to push a stroller with a young boy strapped in, while their other stroller was being manned by Sammy. We hadn’t gone far when the back, left wheel on my stroller fell off. So we were down to one, functional stroller with 8 toddlers. The girl Sammy was pushing in the stroller was also blind, with eyes that twitched and blinked and moved in all directions sporadically – she also had trouble controlling her movements. But when we got to the park, Sammy unstrapped her from the stroller, and holding her hands, led her around the park. The girl was ecstatic to freely move around, stomping her feet as she went and picking up speed.

                The park was a happy place for all of the children, but we could not help but notice that our children stood out from the rest. Not only were many of them disabled, but their clothes set them apart from the other children. They wore pants that were not long enough, and boys wore pink shirts with flower designs. The placement center did not have as many clothes as the hospital we visited the day before, so the children were dressed in whatever fit.

                It’s hard to think that the kids notice others staring. You wonder how they feel when they see other children at the park with their parents, without a handicap. And then you think about times when you’ve seen someone with a disability, and the way you reacted to it. 

Day 2: Thursday, July 7

Our second day in Romania was long and exhausting. The group walked to the children’s hospital in Bucharest for 10am with expectations of staying ‘til 8pm. We were going to work in the section of the hospital that housed young, abandoned children. These children – all under the age of two – were born in the hospital, but left their by mothers who, for various reasons, could not take care of them. This section of the hospital features a program sponsored by RCR that allows nurses and volunteers to play with and care for the babies each day.

                The second floor of the hospital houses these children. Off of a white, tile hallway are five rooms, each containing 6 or more cribs. The walls have large stickers of animals and cartoon characters, brightening the sad scene. The children are divided by age and spend most of the day - about 15+ hours – in their cribs; the only exception to this being during the RCR program, when the babies are taken up to a small, carpeted playroom to interact and play. However, out of the 30+ children in this section of the hospital, only about 10 children have the privilege of doing this each day. First, the doctor must give them permission; this depends on their health. There has to be a sufficient amount of nurses and volunteers to look after the children in the playroom, and the babies need to be around the same age.

                Thursday was hot and humid in the small playroom with only two windows open to circulate the air, but it didn’t seem to bother the group. When we arrived, smocks were handed out to put on over our other clothes and we needed to change into shoes that hadn’t been worn outside and our hands were washed – doing everything we could not to bring our germs into the play area. As we settled in, nurses brought in babies one by one, handing them to us as they went to get more. Seeing their faces light up as they entered the room was unforgettable. Their eyes widened and their lips turned up in a smile.

                The babies outnumbered our volunteer group - nurses included! With 8 of us and at least 10 babies, our hands were always full. Toys were dumped on the floor and were soon in the children’s mouths, followed by yogurt, which was a rare treat. Warm bottles of milk were brought in around 11am and each of the volunteers was handed a bib and a bottle corresponding to the child they were working with. For my 13-year-old brother feeding the babies was an unfamiliar task, but even he managed to progress from spoon-feeding yogurt to bottle-feeding warm milk.

                We played with and each grew close to a few of the babies in the room. Child M*, one I enjoyed playing with and holding, had a disorder called muscular dystrophy, and had poor control of his muscles. Although he was able to move his head freely, it was heavy and difficult to support, and M was unable to stand, or even support his body on his feet. Child M received constant stimulation from staff members throughout the day, made possible through the Romanian Children’s Relief. Child M needs extra care and attention, and thanks to RCR, he is able to receive this care and muscle therapy.

                Of the children in the playroom, only a few could walk – one of them being Child B*. B was very interactive with volunteers and other children. I noticed this and picked her up, eager to hold her. She would point and I would respond by moving to wherever she indicated. One of the first places we ventured was the window. Light was streaming in and she seemed intrigued, but when we got closer I noticed her begin to squirm and wriggle out of my arms. She was lunging towards the window sill when I noticed that the children we were working with had never been outside.

Another child I will mention, Child S*, suffers from fetal alcohol syndrome and as a result, has anencephaly. Her head is larger than her body, but her skull is not fully formed, leaving a soft spot of tissue near her forehead with no protecting bone beneath.

The program RCR has put in place is truly a gift. Without it, these children would be stuck in their cribs for almost 24 hours a day with no stimulation and barely any love. However, the program has many regular volunteers that come from 10-1 or 3-5 to take the babies to the playroom, feed them, play with them, make them smile, give them attention and love. It is so much fun you can hardly call it work, but it makes a world of difference for the children.

Each member of the group had a different experience as we each bonded with different children. Some fell asleep as we rocked them, others would follow us around the play area after you put them down, some would just smile as you held them, but each child was bathed in love and care as we spent hour after hour in the hospital that day. I experienced a feeling of love I never had before. I realized how simply interacting with a baby, caring for them, can make you feel connected and loved. This was something I had never fully understood. I never realized how simple interaction and attention can create such a strong feeling of love. After spending just a few hours with the babies, I now can relate.

It was no doubt an exhausting day, emotionally and physically, but we headed to ‘Kaufland’ to finish off our work for the day. With money that we had raised before the trip, the group bought diapers, soap, wet wipes, snacks and toys for the babies. Walking back to the hospital with hands full with bags and supplies, it was obvious the group was tired, and when we returned to the nursery, we settled down on the carpet for some down time. During this time, I picked up a book detailing the founding of RCR. What caught my eye was the section describing one of the factors in the high rate of abandoned children. The reason is quite simple: the gypsies, often referred to as the Roma people, don’t have much money and so, the parents leave for other countries looking for jobs, leaving children behind because they are unable to support even themselves.

After a short rest, a few older children were brought back to the playroom. Their red, puffy eyes indicated they had been crying in their cribs, before being brought over to try out the new toys. They took to the drum immediately and beat it incessantly – it was a hit!

Although it was 8pm, our long and demanding day was far from over! The group was in for a whole new adventure on the night train to Bistrita! Rushing to the train station the group barely had time to grab snacks for the overnight ride. After climbing aboard – literally climbing – Sammy and I threw our luggage down in our cozy room and went to the dinner picnic in the hallway. Although it was a squeeze, everyone made it to the pretzel and chips banquet in time to see the red sun set over the horizon as we passed through the Romanian countryside, heading for Bistrita and more eye-opening experiences.


* Names have not been used in the best interest of the children.