Monday, September 3, 2007
Parenting...
Four months ago when I started fundraising for this trip I tried to summarize my plans in a concise manner. This often proved difficult because I have a tendency towards verbosity.
I first explained that I was going to "Africa." I usually said "Africa" as opposed to more specifically saying "Namibia" because explaining where exactly Namibia is located on the planet often induced blank stares in people's eyes.
I then explained that I would volunteer at an "orphanage." I would say "orphanage" as opposed to "children's home" (the preferred and more appropriate term used here.) "Orphanage" was easy to say because everyone understands that children who do not have parents or people who can care for them go to orphanages and Children of Zion Village is that sort of place. Unfortunately, many orphanages are simply warehouses for children. Children of Zion Village is certainly not one of those places. "Children's home" is not simply a play with semantics but a more true reflection of the atmosphere of this place. A place where the kids feel like family and the people running it view themselves as parents.
I would then go on to tell people that I would be working as a teacher and probably pick up some odd jobs wherever I might be needed. While I did do what I anticipated what has proved more important to me, and probably to the kids as well, is what I did not anticipate.
I did not anticipate the many roles I would play for the kids. I did not know I would be their coach, counselor, and nurse. I did not know I would go clothes shopping and find tailors for them, to go grocery shopping for them, to find hairdressers for them, to be a bus driver, to take care of goats, and in short act as a parent to 55 kids. Truly, that is not only the role that the Mink's find themselves in but really any volunteer that stays here for any length of time.
Someone told me once (or maybe it was no one, or just another tidbit of wisdom that is passed around) that no one really understands their parents until they themselves are parents. My experiences in Africa have led me to believe this statement as I have begun to understand my parents at a level that I previously had not. Let me qualify what I am about to say that I am only beginning to understand my parents. Anyone who has ever met them will know that much of their behavior defies conventional understanding.
Nevertheless, as I found myself in new and difficult situations with kids I found the words of my father, my mother, my grandparents, and my aunts and uncles coming out of my mouth. I found myself working harder than I have ever had worked in my life (I have considered this statement and do not believe it is an exaggeration) not for money, grades, appreciation, or even a thank you. I worked to a level of exhaustion that only a parent would stretch themselves to because they love a child.
This is something that my parents did for my sister and I that early on I never appreciated and later never really understood. They seemed to undertake enormous amounts of stress for our benefit and I didn't feel that I warranted such effort. While it is difficult to verbalize the motivation I have begun to understand why someone would sacrifice so much of themselves for a child. Even though the children here are not actually mine and I am not actually their parent, because I lack the former and they lack the later we each fall into the roles presented us. I do not think my experience is unique but that of many of the volunteers here.
I can only hope that while I have been here I have imparted a small bit of knowledge, presented myself as a role model, and acted in the love that these children so deserve. I will walk away not only with a broader view of the world, a deeper understanding of kids, new discoveries about myself, but also an understanding of my own parents. Well, a little bit more understanding.
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