It wasn’t what I expected. I expected more color, more toys, more sunshine. I don’t know. Afterall, it wasn’t a state orphanage. Maybe I expected it to look more like some Chinese version of the daycare center where I worked for a summer in college. It didn’t.
The doorman muttered all sorts of things to us that even our translator had trouble understanding. But, he waved us through and smiled when he saw the director walk out to us. He asked us if we slept well. We assured him we did, and he said he was surprised because he thought we might be too excited to sleep.
The front hall was clean. dark and cool. damp. Some signs seemingly about rules for safety with interesting clipart were posted making that front hall look not unlike that of an office building, one no one really used. Two children’s areas were on that hall, each having two rooms, one for beds and one for play. We were invited right into the first area, like a friend might invite us into her living room. Come in. See what we’ve done with the place. When you admire it, I’ll smile and tell you to stop, but it will make me feel really good. In our aprons that looked like children’s hospital gowns and paper shoe covers, we joined the staff in the playroom.
There was nothing spectacular about the space. It wasn’t bad. I’ve said spaces with much less. But, it wasn’t what I thought it would be. With chalky paint, uneven and worn out floors, worn out lots of things, it really wasn’t all that beautiful. But, we stayed. Of course we did. This is where we had been asked to go. This is who wanted “expert” training on early childhood education and class management, about caring for children assigned the umbrella diagnosis of cerebral palsy, and about discipline and correction. We didn’t just stay; we watched.
It was nearly evening but the room got a little brighter as we watched. Brighter still was that place after we spent time in both rooms. The rooms looked different when we left that first day. In fact, even the doorman may have looked a little different.
It wasn’t like that daycare center with a play kitchen, dress up corner, and reading nook. It wasn’t like the state orphanages where I’ve served either. It was different. And, there were beautiful things there that weren’t at all worn out. Beautiful things that had nothing to do with donations from foreigners or painted murals on the wall. It just took a little time to notice them.
Two full days of trainings would start the next morning, trainings that would give us the opportunity to teach a few things and tell them how we love what they’ve done with the place.
I might have been too excited to sleep that night.
