Orfanatorio

Yesterday I volunteered for about one hour at an orphanage in Guadalajara. If I've had a moving experience in Mexico so far, this was it (in addition to standing under my first Orozco mural). It was very sad- the amount of children, the tiny space. The children looked hungry, thirsty, dirty, sick. There were a lot of kids who were extremely happy when we (the U.S. kids) walked in, regardless of there living conditions. But, there were also those children who sat in the corner and wouldn't smile, talk, or move. They looked completely lifeless, depressed, empty- three things a child should never be. It made me think about how a child's life is determined- how a child in this place is missing an entire piece of who they are- their parents, or one special adult figure- a physical and emotional resource they will lack until they leave that place, or maybe forever.


I picked up one little boy who would not talk to me, look at me, or smile. He wouldn't tell me his name, what he liked, what he wanted to play or if he wanted any water, but he clung to me and would not let go. About 3o minutes after walking around with his head buried in my shoulder, I took out my digital camera and began taking pictures. It is a decent, but not so sharp, point and shoot. When he saw it- he wanted to push the button. After one picture- he finally smiled. Thats all it took. We took a bunch of random, unfocused pictures (of the sky, the floor, a million people in one frame, basically wherever he pointed the camera). He finally told me his name, Paola. So, that was, in short, my experience at the orfanatorio.

Love, Danielle