Crisis Nursery; February 13, 2007

Another rainy start to the day. I meet Sarah, one of the doctor's wives, in the clinic at 8am and she drops me off at the Children's Crisis Nursery in Area 47. It's a gated house that has been converted into a center to take care of kids aged 1 to 3. These kids have parents, if alive, that cannot take care of them. Most of the families are affected by AIDS, some have lost family members.

I meet a number of the caretakers, all women, and a few of them show me around. The kids are separated into 4 bedrooms, and each room houses around 7 or 8 kids. Kids of the similar age group share the same room and lie in cribs or plastic 'newborn baby shells'. Each child has got their name, caretaker and date of birth on a label, there are too many names.
I enter the room to the back left and notice Eduardo is crying while sucking his thumb. It's amazing how quickly personalities and differences among personalities become apparent - while Eduardo sobs, his neighbor, lying face down and playing with a ring of rattles, simply watches it all. While some wake up from the sounds, others just sleep through Eduardo's ordeal.

The work begins - or better yet - it never ends. It's shift work - I speak with one woman who works 4 days straight - nights too - and then will head home to tend to her 7 kids. It is still unclear to me how these women can look at a child and know when to:

a) Change the diaper
b) Burp the child
c) Feed the kid
d) Hold the child
e) All of the above
f) None of the above

It's because of this lack of comprehension I do what I only can do - that is, hold the kids, play and talk to them. I've not perfected the "grab another kid while holding one with the other arm approach" and limit myself to cuddling one at a time. The kids and workers seem mildly amused. Some of the kids take advantage of me and cry when I lay them down - they know how to work the system. Chimwemwe is a particularly antimated kid - and loves to high five.