Leaving Lejasstrazdi and Inčukalns
It’s been over a week since I left Lejasstrazdi. It wasn’t until after we had left the orphanage that I realized how special it was. It seemed more like a big family than an institution. Most of the children are able to take care of themselves, so the younger kids get a lot of personal attention from the caregivers as well as from the older teens in the orphanage. The older kids would play with Violeta and Ruslans and they always had a caregiver sitting next to them at meals (until Violeta became my “little friend,” so she sat with me). Dace and Madara told us later that Lejasstrazdi is very unique and probably one of the best orphanages in Latvia.
We spent our last full day in Lejasstrazdi at the beach. About 45 people, including our group, kids from the orphanage (some we hadn’t seen very much in the last week), and caregivers along with their children, packed onto a bus to go to a camping ground by the Baltic Sea. We had so much fun… taking pictures… playing volleyball on the beach… a water gun fight with freezing Baltic water… and a Latvian-style cook out with sausage, potatoes, rye bread and traditional caraway cheese! It was a little weird to see the caregivers bringing their kids along. For them, caring for the children in the orphanage is a job so that they can support their own family. The orphaned children have their physical needs met by the caregivers—food, clean clothing, and a place to sleep—but they don’t receive love or affection. Anda, one of our translators, overheard a caregiver complaining that our group held the little ones too much and she didn’t want the 5- or 3-year-old to get used to being held. We had the same complaint at Inčukalns, the last orphanage we stayed at: the caregivers actually asked us not to hold the kids because they didn’t want the children to start asking them to be held.
It was a challenge to adjust to Inčukalns after having such a wonderful time and developing close relationships at Lejasstrazdi. When we had to leave Lejasstrazdi, there were a lot of tears. The hardest thing for me was to say goodbye (or “atā”) to Violeta. I had become quite attached to her over the week. I made a little book for her with drawings and phrases in Russian, her mother tongue: Исус любит тебя (Jesus loves you); Ты особенная (you are special); Принцесса (princess); and Я люблю тебя (I love you). She and her younger brother, Ruslans, were taken away from their parents not too long ago because their father is really violent and abusive and their mother is an alcoholic. The mother is going through treatment so that she can get her kids back, but Helena, the director, commented that in all the years she’s run the orphanage no parent has ever made a lasting change so that they could keep their children. They will improve for a little bit, but fall back into old patterns and lifestyles after a short time. It’s sad, but what can you expect? People can not change their lives without the power of Christ working in them. We are all lost causes without His saving grace.
When we arrived at Inčukalns, Jeannene, Ramie, Leslie, and I were still a little sad about leaving Lejasstrazdi, but excited about what God had in store for us in the week ahead. Our visit was the first time any team from Buckner had worked with the kids in Inčukalns, so there were a lot of unknowns. “We are flexible!” became our team’s motto after encountering numerous schedule changes and surprises the first half of the month, but we were still somewhat shocked when we discovered that the many of the kids at Inčukalns have special needs. Some of the children have severe physical disabilities while many have Downs Syndrome and other mental disabilities. Inčukalns has about the same number of caregivers as Lejasstrazdi, but there were a lot more young kids and with special needs. They were really hungry for affection… the caregivers told us explicitly not to hold the kids, so at first we tried to honor their wishes. When one little girl, Karolina, reached up for me to pick her up, I hugged her and held her hands… until she pulled a chair over to me and stood on top of it just so she could be closer to me and wrap her arms around me. Since the caregivers took a break whenever we were with the kids, we just made sure they weren’t watching when we held the children.
We did VBS in twice every day: with the younger kids (up to age 6) including a few with special needs at 10 am and then again at 11 am for older kids with severe disabilities. We did crafts and played with all the kids together in the afternoon. The little kids loved the music and dances. A lot of these sweet children rock back and forth, especially when they’re singing or listening to music. They told us about this during Buckner orientation: it’s a comfort disorder because they don’t have someone who holds them or gives them affection on a regular basis. When we left the music on during craft time, a few children would be standing in front of the CD player rocking back and forth. Even when there was no music, I’d see kids sitting in a row, rocking their bodies back and forth without even noticing that they were doing it. As soon as one of us touched them they would stop and look at us, but if you took away your hand they started rocking again.
