"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has." -- Margaret Mead

The past five weeks that I have been here I have seen, experienced, and learned so much. At Faraja, it's a public school for children (not necessarily orphans like the name leads you to believe) who come from families who are in extreme poverty and have no other options. The head teacher isn't usually there very often so the other two volunteers and I are left to do all of the teaching on our own. I have realized that unless these children are sponsored and have an education at one of the local private schools, the education that I am giving them right now (a very untrained 22 year old, who a year ago decided to drop out of school, and for awhile I honestly thought that I would never go back because I thought that I didn't really need it) may be the best education that they ever receive. It's so hard for me to see this because I wish that I could give them so much more, but it also makes me that much more motivated to do the very best that I can and hope that I am doing enough.

It truly breaks my heart when I see how children, or anyone for that matter, can be treated here. Locals wear the same clothes day after day, not being washed in between because they have nothing else, and what they do have is extremely torn and tattered. Children have to grow up so fast and learn how to take care of their families and do so much of the cooking and cleaning by themselves by the time they are ten years old. Driving down the streets, you see grown adults bathing in buckets on the sides of the roads. At the orphanage, babies are fed warm milk or pureed food out of tin cans with spoons because they can't afford formula or bottles. For children who are being potty trained, about 20 plastic toilets are lined up, right next to each other in a hallway for them to use. If a child has an accident in their pants, they must wear their soiled clothes until everyone else is getting changed as well. Their main toys consist of sticks and stones. So many of these kids are so malnourished that I often catch them eating the shavings of crayons while I'm not looking. And for many of them, you can see the visible rash on their foreheads that indicates that they are HIV positive. When these children misbehave, they are not scolded or put in time out, they are beaten with rulers, dragged across the room by their ear, or slapped in the face. There is one girl in the baby room who is said to be about 8 or 9 years old. No one really knows for sure because a few months ago she was abandoned in a bush by her father. I believe that she has some type of Cerebral Palsy. Her limbs are extremely stiff, but do not straighten all of the way, so she can only roll or craw a little bit, but because she went untreated for so many years and due to the lack of finances and technology here, doctors say that there is nothing they can do for her. There is a very good chance that she will spend the rest of her life in that baby room. Medical facilities here are so limited. There is only one hospital in the remote area that performs surgeries. The power in the city goes out weekly for hours and hours at a time, so lab tests for things like Malaria are usually done by holding a flashlight up to a slide. Patients' medical records consist of a small notebook that the doctor writes in and then sends home with the patient, and they must remember to bring it back to their next appointment. I have had two friends be admitted to hospitals here. The first, was staying in a room that was supposed to hold 4 beds; it was holding 13, and when you walked down the halls of the facility, both sides were lined with people in beds. The second was admitted for Malaria. When she walked into her room, there was an open box of used needles sitting next to her bed, on the floor, where anyone could have easily stepped on them. It really made me wonder how many people here are infected with HIV every year just due to accidents in hospitals. My friend also needed an IV, but it wasn't performed quite right and left open for awhile, and she ended up getting a very bad Staff infection from it.

I had some sort of idea of the conditions here, but I never thought that I would see everything that I have, and I'm still here for another 7 weeks. I have a new respect and appreciation for things back home, especially education. Here, education is everything; their ticket out of a life of poverty where families live off of a dollar or less a day. I have so much motivation to return to school and do things much differently this time. I am so excited to be here and have this wonderful opportunity, and hopefully, make a difference in someone's life. Someone asked me since I've been gone how I handle all of these horrible conditions that people live in; what keeps me coming back. Somedays, it is very hard, but then I think about going to volunteer, having children run up to me, give me hugs and kisses on the cheek, and say "I love you." That right there is the whole reason that I am here, without a doubt. Knowing that I can, at the very least, make a child smile and give them some joy in their life, makes absolutely everything that I have gone through in the past few years, totally and completely worth it.