At this point, I want to clarify something. I have been using the word "orphanage" to refer to the place Hugo lived before coming home with us, but it is much more than that. I think I need a new word. To be sure, there are plenty of orphaned children that live there, so "orphanage" is not completely inappropriate. The problem with the word is this: before we got involved in this process, I thought of an orphanage as a dirty, smelly place where the kids never get any attention or care and they are standing on death's door due to poor health care and inadequate nourishment. Unfortunately, there are plenty of orphanages worldwide that accurately fit that description. But this place is not like that.
I haven't used the real name of the place to protect their privacy and to make sure that I'm not crossing some line of confidentiality. But I will say that they don't call themselves an orphanage. They refer to themselves as a home. That's what I'll call them from now on.
The Home, which also doubles as a school, has undergone a lot of changes since we had visited in September. In the morning light, I could see that the guest house had some more work done on the second floor and had added a set of outside stairs.
While there is still no roof on the upper floor, I could see that it was taking shape and would likely be ready for visitors soon. Hugo and I were staying on the first floor and, since there was a set of stairs right next to our room, we would get up there and do some exploring later in the day. The doghouse remains but there are no dogs living in it and in their place is the resident goat. More about him later.
At the Home, the changes were extensive. The ENTIRE courtyard, from the front gate to the offices and around to the dormitories, has been paved with a light gray concrete. I remembered how muddy the old version of the courtyard became in a heavy rain and thought this new arrangement must be much better.
There is a colorful swing set and slide and a little white shed behind it that houses some sort of water purification system. The floors of the classrooms have been tiled - a major improvement over the mud floors that were there last time. The wooden classrooms have been torn down and are being replaced with new concrete structures. In the meantime, the older kids are having class under the portable awnings which have been moved from the courtyard to the roof of the classroom building. There are three flag poles in a prominent place in the courtyard.
Jacob escorted me to the director's office. I was dying to see Hugo but I didn't want to offend anyone by not following protocol, so I waited as patiently as I could. While I waited, the kids gathered for assembly and I started spotting some familiar faces. Emmanuel, Linda, Coby, a boy we called Charlotte because he was wearing a Charlotte Hornets jersey when we met him, Abigail, and several others. One of the musicians recognized me from last time and came over for a big hug. Assembly was excellent. The band had more members now and Emmanuel had a significant leadership role.
The director arrived and was very pleasant. She welcomed me warmly and gave me permission to take some pictures since, in her words, I was now part of their family. She knew I was eager to see Hugo so she sent someone to get him.
When he walked into the office, the very first thing I thought was that he shrunk. I had expected him to be bigger than last time and we actually spent a lot of thought on what size clothes we should pack. Now, he seemed smaller than I remembered him. Just like last time, he came right to me but seemed confused and just stared into the distance. We left the Home right away and on the way to the guest house, he snapped out of his trance. Perhaps the walk triggered some memories but he began to smile and respond to me. He even laughed a few times.
Back in the room, we played soccer, had snacks, and generally tried to get reacquainted. I had brought along an antibiotic in case his ears were still leaking and, since he still had cotton balls shoved in his ears, I gave him his first dose. We spent most of the rest of the day just playing together. Since I can't remember the exact order of things, here are some of the highlights:
- He didn't seem to be as protective of his food and even offered to share some with me. This was a very good sign.
- He loved the ball I brought from home that Beatrix won at Chuck E Cheese.
- His ears were still sick, but not as bad as last time.
- We went for a few short walks and Hugo was content to walk rather than be carried. This was a huge blessing because 1) carrying him would have been tough in the 90 degree heat and 2) I brought a carrier to wear him on my back but I was hesitant to use it in a culture where women are the primary caregivers for children and the sight of a man wearing a baby would have raised some eyebrows.
- On our walks, he collected things to bring back to the house. Typical boy. I thought of Henry's nature collection at home and thought that Hugo would fit right in.
- There was a scooter at the guest house. It was the kind they made in the 80's with the huge tires and plenty of room for both of us to stand on the foot deck. We rode it all over the place.
- He was terrified of the goat. Check out the video and watch how concerned he is when I finally talk him into getting closer to it. For anyone who is new here, you will hear me referring to Hugo as Kwabi, his African name.
It was a big day at the Home. There were representatives from Samsung there when Hugo and I went back to visit. They were making some sort of presentation, probably a donation of some sort, and there were plenty of photo ops and posed pictures. After the presentations, the kids put on a performance that included the band, dancing, and a really cool drumming demonstration. There was a film crew to document the whole thing which I'm pretty sure was for Samsung's benefit. It went on for hours.
At one point, a teen girl came and asked Hugo if he wanted something to eat. He went willingly and came back wearing different clothes. Also, Boat had recommended Hugo have a haircut before the visit to the embassy the next day, so a young man at the Home shaved his head. He used a basic pocket comb and held a razor blade against the side with his thumb. Then, as he combed Hugo's head all over, the hair came off in little fuzzy clumps.
That evening, Hugo fell asleep easily. I'll never know what was going through his little head that day, but I'm sure it was enough to be mentally exhausting. Our alarm was set for 4 a.m. to make sure we had time to make it to the embassy in Accra. I asked Boat why we needed to get up so early and he replied, "Sunday traffic is not like Tuesday traffic." And then, in the profound way that only Boat can manage, he added, "On Tuesday, it will not be Sunday."
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