the orphanages: part II

We rode our bikes through the loud streets of Nanchang, a city of 2.5 million (small by China standards) gradually winding our way through less and less chaotic traffic and noise. Our journey took about 1 hour from downtown. During that hour Chris and I would talk about faith and orphans. I didn't realize it then but we were doing what Jesus' brother James called a "pure and faultless" religion, to "look after orphans and widows".

Chris is a Christian. His faith was practical: take care of the orphans, get them into homes, and that is what God wants him to do.

We would often sit in the clamour of the city square, a city center designed exactly like Tienanmen Square in Beijing. It hadn't been two years since the student uprising and massacre on Tienanmen Square. I was with the first tentative and small wave of foreign teachers allowed into the country after a brief time of closed borders. International attention was negative since Tienanmen, and as I said before, China does not like unfavorable attention.

Chris and I would also spend our time in the city square discussing religious pragmatism.

"But in America you have so much money and what do you do with it?" He would ask with a provocative grin. It is really VERY easy to pick on Capitalists when you yourself are not rich in material possessions. He was poking my materialistic sensitivities and insecurities like a pro.

"Some people have a lot, I don't have a lot. I own a car...and a few other things." I answered. "I hope you aren't trying to say I'm materialistic."

"But you are a materialist. You are an American. You have a lot available to you. Are your parent's rich?" I would take offence to this and cite that just because one is of a certain nationality does not automatically make them the stereotype of the nation's reputation.

Then I would actually answer his question.

"My parents do okay in my country. By my countries standards they are not rich. They spend most of their money on their home, insurances..." It was at this point that I realized his point (because I'm slow on the uptake). "Okay, we do spend a lot of our time and attention on our stuff. But, really, I'm poor." Which was relatively true. He was never convinced. Ever.

He would just laugh at me, light-heartedly, and turn to subjects other than materialism...usually orphans.

On our bike rides to the orphanage our conversations were purely about orphans and adoption. We would ride side by side at an easy pace speaking outloud that great dream of seeing children cared for in the context of a loving family. The scope of the idea was overwhelming to me. But Chris had a fire in his belly. I could think only of how to get people involved with the orphanage and how to help them in any way I could. I did.

Our desire and passion were emboldened every time we entered the gates of the orphanage compound. Nearly every time we arrived we would witness one baby being peddled away to be buried, and simultaneously see another new baby girl being delivered to it's gates.

We would arrive and meet the workers. Chris would talk with them and I would have little conversations with them centered primarily around pleasant greetings and whether they had eaten that day (the basic greetings in Chinese). Normally I would ask about their families as this is also customary and nearly the only other thing I could talk about in Chinese. But, many of the workers were orphans themselves who grew up and just stayed with their "family" to care for new orphans.

Sometimes I would sneak off to the building with the babies. Rooms of babies in cribs. They were separated into rooms of healthy babies and dying rooms. I would go hold the healthy babies as they rarely were held. Then I would go to the dying rooms. I would put my hand on their silent backs and I would pray to God. I don't remember my prayers but they were tearful because, well, what would you pray in a context like that?

They looked like little old people. They scared me a bit, therefore I touched them...how could I explain to them that I couldn't touch them because I was scared of death? My time with them emboldened my heart to do something, anything. I was only one person, but they told me I could do something. I wanted to pluck every one of them out of their cribs and hold and feed them and make them better. But I prayed and I touched them. They told me they were okay. God told me not to be scared, just to do what I could.

We would ask the director what the orphange needed. She usually told us they needed more medical supplies and equipment for the handicapped children --a large portion of the population was handicapped as such "damaged" children were of no use to some families who wanted a healthy child. We would talk in the courtyard and I would inevitably be distracted by the delivery of a new baby or the death of another.

Babies were found abandoned on a doorstep, in an alley, or at the gates of the orphanage.

The director liked any idea we came up with.

We always took the opportunity to visit with the older children. They had nearly bare rooms in which they "played" and learned. I have photos of their faces. They laugh at me, smile, and have behind their eyes a sadness and aged look. I would teach them Patty Cake and Chris would interpret it as best he could. I would play simple games I knew from my childhood that I'd forgotten until they were in my lap and ready for any kind of involvement.

One day Chris and I informed the orhanage director that we would be bringing "entertainment". We planned to bring several of the other American teachers who wanted to be involved. There were few of us in the city of 2.5 million. A handful. We all descended upon the facility one day, and ALL of the children were sitting outside waiting. So rare was a visit like this. Well, never had they ever experienced foreigners visiting, nor had they ever had any visitors, period.

We performed songs. We interacted with them in song and stories. And Chris did his best to translate the likes of "Matilda the Gorilla" and "Itsy Bitsy Spider". The children's laughter fanned the fire in me that kept me coming back, kept me wanting to do what I could. I could make them laugh. We all held them and cried later. We planned to do more.

Soon we were all writing letters to people trying to get medical supplies sent. The supplies that actually made it through the postal search we took to the orphanage. Some we had sent directly to the orphanage. We did what we could. Some of us were nurses.

We had friends bring classroom supplies. We assembled equipment that had only English instructions (funny huh? Usually we assemble equipment with only Chinese instructions). One time I assembled a special wheelchair with only French instructions! We did what we could.

But Chris was insistant that more could and should be done. My sight was limited, but his sight was set on great things. He didn't want to just make their life bearable in the facility itself. He was ready to jump to the next rung and was becoming increasingly impatient to get children into homes in America. It would not be Chinese homes. A one child per family policy was what created the orphanage in the first place. There was going to be no placing of children in Chinese homes.

As Chris became more insistent he could do more, he also insisted we could do more.

"You are rich, there must be something you can do!" I felt helpless and could only pray for God to do something beyond my own ability. My materialism met these needs with a resounding "thud"! How could I use everything and all the prosperity I had at my disposal? How could I harness these potentials?

It wasn't just a problem of logistics and practicality. Few babies were being adopted out of China at the time. The concept did not even exist in our province. We lived in the capital of our province and there were NO babies being adopted out of the province.

But the real problem was the local government.

Early on morning one of my students came knocking at my door. She told me that Chris had been arrested. I asked why. She told me it was because of his involvement with me. At first I thought they assumed he and I had a "relationship". But as it sunk in I realized that it had everything to do with our passion for the orphanage because, well...that was our singular cause.

The police had come to his campus apartment late the night before and began interrogating him about his involvement with me. I realized that we had most likely been followed on one or more of our bike trips to the facility.

They asked him, over and over, "What are you doing going to that orphanage with that foreign woman?" as if our goal was espionage and high treason. He answered them, over and over ad nauseum, "We are helping the orphans."

"But why are you going to the orphanage with the foreigner?"

"To help the orphans."

"But why?"

"To help the orphans."

"What do you do with the foreign woman?"

"We help the orphans."

And on it went until they got frustrated with his answer and decided to take him in. There they tried to break him down and tell them why he was spending so much time with me. They eventually gave up, warned him to stop spending time with me, and let him go. He came directly to my apartment.

It was a hard time. You have to understand that as an American I am unused to being meddled with so much by the government. I didn't know what they would do to my friend. I wanted to tell them they had no right to separate my friend from me.

We laughed though. We laughed at the silly people who thought we had more dangerous purpose than the real purpose we had. To save the orphans.

For his safety I insisted that we not see one another for three weeks until the dust settled. He did not like the idea and stubbornly wanted to continue where we had left off. I did not want my friend's conviction become a barrier to his successfully seeing it through.

As it turns out this became the least danger he was ever in. Officials have constantly harrassed and arrested him in his pursuit of getting every orphaned baby in Nanchang adopted to foreign families.

Strange the journey we had while doing what we could.

TO BE CONTINUED...