Young Men Selling Pigeons Outdoors on a Cold Day

-- la reverdere

Mmmmm...A Wall of Honey Jars at the Saturday Market

-- la reverdere

Narcissa of Barlad

Delia has high self-esteem. Now two, still with no arms or legs, she is happy to spend long periods of time staring at herself in the mirror. She showers love upon herself...leaning forward again & again to kiss her reflection & laugh at her lovely self.  She thinks she's hilarious. She says her name now, when she feels like it, with much prompting. This too satisfies her greatly, as do the choruses of "Bravo, bravo" that accompany her accomplishments . And she can sit up by herself now, on her square little torso-fanny, though she must be watched, for a small thing like a sneeze can pitch her over sideways or backwards, with no arms to soften a fall. Her two little flippers, one at a shoulder & one at what would be a foot, have matured in terms of sophisticated activity. If she's lying in her crib & you place a toy with lights & music near her bottom, she intentionally hits it with her flipper-foot, causing the lights & tinny music to play. She uses her arm-flipper as a touching device & can spin a plastic ring around & around on her favorite jumpy seat.
 
All the children here drink from bottles, even the 4 & 7 year olds. They get 2-3 bottles /day of milk-like formula, plus an orange pureed soup-like gruel for lunch. It is made of carrots & potatoes & chicken, ground up & thinned with water...thin enough to go through the nipple of a baby bottle. No one likes it. They all refuse it. Yet that is lunch. A few kids also get spoon fed mashes...bread & applesauce...rice with unidentifiable things.  When the volunteers come, they bring yogurt, a great favorite with all.

Delia's pretty much outgrown bottles. She cries & whips her head backwards & refuses them. Bottles are more convenient for the staff here, though. They have very few hands to spoon feed & do not teach the older kids to feed themselves, or toilet-train them, for that matter.

This girl loves being naked. When given the chance, at diaper changing time, to loll around naked for a little while, she rocks & rolls & wiggles & shakes & laughs like crazy. She thinks she's beautiful & perfect.
 
Delia has been on a waiting list for over a year to see a Romanian doctor in another city about the possibility of prosthetics. There is not much faith here that this will come to pass. Volunteers fall in love with her & say how she should get a humanitarian medical exception that would allow her to go to the United States for care, but there is no organized effort for this.

When she's bigger & not so cute anymore, where will she go? Most likely where the rest of Romania's abandoned children go when they grow up -- to an adult institution, which westerners never see.

But in the meantime, Little Miss Narcissa of Barlad has her joys & delights, & thinks very highly of herself.

-- la reverdere

Sometimes You Wonder When the Thing You Have Been Waiting For Will Happen

-- la reverdere

Sometimes You Have To Imagine Your Own Life

Luciana is 14 months old, but a mouse of a child. She is a failure-to-thrive baby, meaning that she has been starved such that normal weight gain has been impossible. She is skinny as a twig. She is an orphan with no last name, no history. No one knows anything about her parents, the circumstances of her birth, or how or why she was abandoned.  Who will she be, in this world full of long & tangled histories, ancient ancestors?

The answer to that question is silence. So I will create a history for her:  Miss Luciana Dealurile Husilor (that is the name of a glass of merlot I am sipping, from Timisoara, a beautiful,mysterious, mountainous part of Romania) was born to high nobility, a daughter of the ancient line of Vlad Tepes (Vlad the Impaler, ruler from 1448-1476, who inspired the Dracula myth). Most of the family succumbed to the Austrian Habsburgs, who built their empire in Transylvania. But one daughter escaped by pretending to be a servant maid. Her descendants survive to this day, hiding their true identity.
 
Luciana is the last daughter, born under dark of night, in the deep woods of Transylvania. Her mother died giving birth to her. Her father is a descendant of the Moldavian Prince Stefan cel Mare, who built the great monasteries of Romania. He does not know where she is. She was found in the woods by the wild dogs of Romania, who brought her to the orphanage doorstep, for all dogs tremble before Vlad the Impaler.

And so Luciana Tepes awaits her destiny...to reclaim the rule of her ancestors, to spread awe throughout the land. Her father now sails the Black Sea, coming ever closer to claiming his girl, the Princess of Darkness, the Girl of the Forest, the Child of the Mountains, the Daughter of the Dogs of Romania...she who will cast fear upon the land.

In the meantime, Luciana awaits in a little room in an orphanage in Barlad.  She is restless & cannot tolerate being cuddled or gentled. She will not drink from a bottle or crawl or display normal baby behavior. She is a tiny, impatient one who waits.
-- la reverdere

Squeaks & the Touch of Snow

This is Luca, otherwise known as Squeaks, for that is his language. He's 4, but small as a 2 year old. He is autistic & supposedly deaf & supposedly of very limited vision.

He smells sour, like all the children here. The staff rarely bathe them...only wipe their bottoms & mouths as necessary. In part, this is due to the Romanian fear of air. It's 32 degrees outside & 82 inside. Every hospital/orphan smell is intensified & everyone sweats, especially the children & American do-gooders. During the communist days, there was no heat...families shivered for decades. Therefore, Romanians now want their heat goddamnit & they want it hot. Hence, the following rules to live by: 1) fresh air kills. 2) wet hair kills.  3) wet hair in the winter double kills. 4) if children are bathed, air will move across their wet skin & hair & they will die a thousand deaths. So, one must learn to hold & love & hug very stinky children.

Squeaks has spent his life in a crib, in his own world. He sucks both thumbs at the same time, butts his head against any corner he can find, thrashes in that institutionalized-child rocking motion, & squeaks. He drools copiously. He's a worrier...his worries are secret. It's easy to forget he's lying there in his crib, covered in drool, deaf & inaccessible...rocking & thumb-sucking & worrying.

I pick him up...solid, askew little boy. "Squeaks," I say, "you need a friend." He agrees, for after a mere hour of lap-sitting & head-stroking he turns into a soft snuggle-pup. He gazes into my eyes for long periods, this boy who doesn't make eye contact. He watches my lips & grows still when I whistle a song, this boy who is deaf. "Squeaks," I say, "there's more to you than meets the eye." We play a game where I whistle a bit, stop, then he bumps his fist very lightly against my chin, at which I whistle again. After about 15 rounds of this, he smiles & smiles some more, this inaccessible boy.

I carry him on a stroll down the long hospital hall, past the Psychiatre & Neurologie rooms. At the far end of the hall is a window, with bars on the outside. It has snowed considerably & there's a shelf of snow along the outside bottom ledge. I turn the forbidden latch & open the window. I scoop a little snow into my hand & show it to Squeaks. He examines it. I nudge his hand toward it. The tip of one finger touches it. He is so surprised & pulls his hand away. We have a little back & forth. Soon he voluntarily reaches to touch the snow...flakes stick to his fingers. He touches again & again, with great delicacy, & smiles a little secret smile.

A boy needs a friend who can whistle & find magic in a handful of snow.

-- la reverdere

Airplanes Fly Awfully High

-- la reverdere

Fresh Snow in the Carpathian Mountains of Romania Is Mysterious & Beautiful & Makes You Believe In Unicorns

-- la reverdere

We All Need a Friend

-- la reverdere

Princesses Are Made, Not Born

-- la reverdere

Christopher Knows What It Feels Like To Be a Motherless Child

-- la reverdere

Delia Says I Love You To All Her Temporary Mommies Who Come To Romania

-- la reverdere

Io, The Boy Who Can't Be Touched, Sits On a Friend's Lap & Smiles a Secret Little Smile

-- la reverdere

Time To Consider That Perhaps There Is Good In This World

As of 2 weeks ago, Mirabella had never done the following things:

1.  Smiled
2.  Laughed
3.  Worn a ribbon in her hair
4. Taken long naps sprawled upon a warm female body, so she could hear the heartbeat. 
5. Eaten bits of banana. 
6. Licked chocolate from a friend's finger. 
7.  Done sit-ups with a little help from a friend. 
8. Been in a room with noisy playing kids. 
9. Heard music. 
10. Had a book read to her. 
11. Been kissed vigorously on both fat cheeks.
12. Babbled for the first time.
13. Been loved.
14. Had someone cry at having to say goodbye to her.  



-- la reverdere

Is There Nothing Good In This World?

Those spoons that orphans use to eat your heart are soup spoons, not baby spoons. Andre, The Boy Who Learned That The World Is Not Such a Bad Place just unlearned that. Now he is The Boy Who Knows For Sure That The World Is a Bad Place. He was not sent to another institution to await a judge's determination as to his fate. He was sent home...back to the barn & cats & dogs as his roommates. 

Today he was brought back to the hospital, running a fever, with a huge bruise on his forehead. A big man carried him in, wrapped in a rough blanket. Andre was dressed in ragged clothes & a pullover bandit-type wool hat & all his limbs were seized up with anxiety. At the sight of his face, we wrapped our arms around him & got teary-eyed, flooded with surprise & love at seeing him again. The man with the rough blanket waited while we stripped him naked, because the child welfare people wanted the clothes back.  We petted him & talked to him & put him in clean clothes & fed him mush & some chocolate from our purses  At moments, he relaxed to our voices & touches, but mostly he screamed & sobbed & kicked & beat his face with his fists. You can see the self-inflicted bruises. After an hour one two, he did smile in relief.

Schedules must be kept, so we had to leave him overnight. We have only one last day with him tomorrow, our last day of volunteering. What can love & tenderness do in one day??

Nothing...is that the real truth?...nothing.




-- la reverdere

Gabi Is The Biggest Girl Here

This is Gabi. She's 4 & has a twin sister. They are both developmentally disabled, but with different severities, so they have spent most of their lives apart, at different facilities. Occasionally the authorities send them home to their parents. Since they spend so much time apart, the girls don't know they are sisters. After a few weeks at their parents' house, things get overwhelming & their parents send them back to the institutions. 

Gabi has very poor vision, so she "sees" with her mouth & nose. When she explores a toy or a person, she brushes her lips lightly over that thing or person & bumps her nose lightly against the surface & sniffs delicately. It's disarming to feel her soft skin & sweet breath against your face when she says hello. 

She has to have a ball in her hands at all times to be happy. She's just now learning to walk with some confidence, with help from a friend. She's a patient, affectionate girl who loves to eat. At the hospital, they feed the kids a mush of bread & applesauce every day, for every meal. They don't get solid food on weekends -- just bottles of milk or chai tea. Volunteers bring in yogurt & cheese puffs & cheerios & other new & exotic foods. Gabi is the resident taste tester. 



Gabi Strolling Down the Hall With Her BFF



-- la reverdere

Baby Update

Mirabella Wonders Why



Io's Just Not Sure About Life



Little Mouse Is So Happy



Delia's Bandages Were Removed



-- la reverdere

A Town Called Smoosh

Yesterday, on a road trip across the eastern Romanian mountains in beautiful, white-out snow conditions, we passed one of many small villages. Our driver pointed & said what sounded like "Smoosh." That town, sort-of called Smoosh, come to find out, is where Delia's parents live. Her birth 11 months ago hit the news pretty big...what with no arms & legs & being abandoned at the orphanage & all.

As Americans volunteering at the orphanage/hospital where Delia lives, we wanted to charge into Smoosh & commit violent acts against her parents.  Of course, we didn't. We just drove on past Smoosh, & its not-so-secret shame vanished into the blurry snow-sky. 

But how did her parents feel? The superstitions that led the villagers of Smoosh, from time immemorial, to believe that having a baby with birth defects results from evil in the mother's heart -- are those ancient beliefs too strong to break? Did that mother & father love their girl for even a moment? 

Do they cry now? Drink? Live in grief & guilt? Smoosh is not so far from Barlad. Do they get news of her? Do they know that their daughter is named Delia? Do they know that, in this most imperfect world, Delia is loved & rocked & babbled to & kissed by strangers from far away? Do they know that that love & those kisses are transitory things, & that when you get right down to it, Delia sleeps alone, whipping her head from side-to-side to put herself to sleep, because no one else will?

Delia's torso isn't really square...this is her with rubbing alcohol-soaked towels packed under her clothes, making her bulky.



(Wait...maybe Delia's parents gave her up out of sheer economic necessity. If you have a disabled child & no money for a lifetime of doctors, nurses, or medicine...what do you do?)

-- la reverdere

This Man Looks Kind of Gruff, But He Isn't

This is Vasilache Marin Dragos, Romanian artist. He makes his living selling his paintings across the street from a large cathedral. He's really tall, has a daughter living in New York & gives a good bear hug if you buy his work. He has a website: www.tablouri-comanda.ro.



One of his paintings, now headed for a new home in America.



-- la reverdere

Wow! Romanian Women Are Very Fierce Shoppers in Second-hand Stores

Striking cuff bracelet from second-hand store in Iasi, Romania -- 30 lei ($10)



-- la reverdere

The Awe-Inspiring Red House That The King of The Gypsies Built For Himself In Barlad On a Very Small Street

-- la reverdere

No Rest For The Weary

-- la reverdere