¨Mr. Poo Hands¨

I´ve got a quick 30-minute break, and since I´m getting HAMMERED (not the good kind of hammered that I´m so accustomed to) in my Spanish class, I thought it would be nice to go into English mode and relate a quick story about a little boy I like to call ¨Mr. Poo Hands¨...

So yesterday was my second day at the orphanage, and I´ve got to say, it´s a pretty entertaining place! You just never know what´s going to happen next... Our first day, we spent about an hour playing soccer with about 10-12 kids, and then we were locked (by a padlock) in the boys´dormitory, not knowing what the hell was going on or if we were ever going to be let out. The kids were pretty cool that time, but I still don´t quite understand why this seemingly otherwise upstanding institution chooses to lock up the kids in this depressing dorm for an hour and a half when we could be doing other things. It really creates kind of a prisoner/Romanian orphanage mentality amongst the kids...it´s very distressing. But, that´s the way it goes, and it´s not like in my three weeks here I´m going to embark upon instituting change. So, we just go with the flow.

Well yesterday, I got there and most of the kids were gone. Now, I know my Spanish isn´t the best in the world, but I´m confident in my abilities to ask simple questions like, ¨Where are the rest of the kids?¨ I got three different answers yesterday...at school, swimming, and at church. I could only assume the kids were learning new prayers in a pool. If not, at least that made for a pretty entertaining visual...

So anyway, as is typical, I spent the first hour and a half helping with homework (well, not really because half the time I didn´t know what the kids were even talking about, nor did they seem particularly interested in my two-cents worth), and then the second hour and a half locked up in the dorms with them. When I got to the orphanage, no other volunteers were there, so I knew that I´d be on my own and that it would be a weird afternoon. Fortunately, Wes showed up at the last minute, just in time to get locked up with me. Before I continue, I have to tell you about Wes. He´s a 19-year-old kid from Ontario, Canada. He´s about 6´5¨, has braces and red hair. I finally figured out how to describe him yesterday...picture the bully from ¨A Christmas Story¨all grown up. That´s him. He´s a really cool guy, mellow, and very funny. It was a relief to see him walk in last-minute...you need back-up at this place!

So, after getting locked up, it was the two of us and about six boys. Plus, their teacher, who comes in and out at his pleasure, always making sure to lock the doors with the padlock. It´s very strange. So, it´s mostly just us and the kids. Now, the dorm has a bathroom, but the teacher chooses to lock it up so the kids can´t use it. Why, I don´t know. But what I do know is that when he locks it up, he makes sure to place a plastic jug outside the door that the kids are supposed to use if need be. Yeah, creepy and gross, huh?

One of the kids yesterday, ¨Mr. Poo Hands¨ told the teacher (in one of the brief moments he was in the dorm with us) that he had to go to the bathroom. Now, just to give you a visual, M.P.H. definitely suffers from some sort of affliction...maybe Autism, FAS, or something else fairly serious. Besides enjoying activities such as ¨goosing¨volunteers, licking people, and spitting, he also spends much of his time trying to pull out the few teeth he has left, which is, for me, kind of distressing and bothersome. I keep trying to tell him to leave his teeth alone and that he needs them to chew his food. But for some reason, he pays no attention to my advice...what do I know anyway? So, the teacher asks him if it´s a number one or a number two, and he replies that it´s the latter. Great.

I tell Wes, ¨Be careful when he comes out because I don´t feel comfortable with his wiping abilities, nor do I think he´s washing his hands after.¨ Wes gets this nervous look on his face, and we both wait in anticipation for M.P.H. to return from his ¨activities.¨ After about 10-15 minutes, he emerges and comes towards Wes. Wes is cautious, but when M.P.H. walks past him, Wes lets down his guard. Suddenly, M.P.H. lunges at Wes´s face. Wes immediately jumps up, and at the same time, grabs the child´s chair he´s been sitting on and puts it between him and the kid. It was like Wes was, in that moment, a lion tamer. It had to be one of the funniest things I had ever seen in my life! It wasn´t that M.P.H. had visible crap on his hands...we just knew it had to be there. So, M.P.H. proceeds to chase Wes into the other room, where Wes quickly jumps up on top of probably a seven-foot tall cabinet to get away from the kid. I overhear him asking the kid if he had washed his hands, and the answer was obviously NO. I came in and picked up the kid under his armpits and carry him back to the bathroom. I take the soap and literally wash his hands, along with mine, while singing a little ditty about how washing hands is a fun thing to do and how he should do it all the time.

Once M.P.H. had clean hands again, we all proceeded into the other room and played a dangerously entertaining game of ¨throw little kids long distances onto mattresses on top of bunk beds,¨ which obviously, was fun AND funny. M.P.H., minutes later, finally succeeded in pulling out that tooth, and then bled all over the place. That time, I waited for the teacher to come back in. Blood was not something I was prepared to deal with...

We´ll be off again today and I´m sure there will be more stories to tell. Just you wait...