On days like Tuesday when our community service was really awesome and memorable, I feel bad for not writing about all of the times when working with the children at the Agent Orange group home was less than enjoyable. I think that, in my reticence (or laziness!) to talk about what it can really be like to work with people under the age of 12, I might have accidentally fallen victim to propagating the myth that supervising a group of rowdy kids is all fun and games. Trying to put my regrets about not always being completely forthcoming aside, I have to remind myself that I am a person as well as,or more so, than I a am blog. There will be time to field questions later and even then, in real life as in internet life, I might still be at an immediate loss for answers. However, with more time to think and decompress after this amazing journey, rest assured that whatever answers I can eventually muster will always be honest. For now, all I can say is: children are STICKY, they will punch you, there is no explaining why they do the things they do other than a) they know they are cute and can get away with it or b) the magic that I can sense when I am around them is real and children are indeed creatures from other planets, planets that I am both sad and happy to no longer call home.

Before our last visit to the Agent Orange group home earlier this week, I will admit that I was really looking forward to the end of this portion of our volunteer work. As a Human Services major, I have learned a lot about getting in touch with what kinds of populations I can work with and accepting the fact that there are other populations for which I am ill suited. While I will not go as far as to say that I am not cut out to work with children, I believe that I have learned that I would just as soon rather not. I cannot tell you all how many times I thought of my mother, begging my sisters and me to stop hanging on her arms and back during the hottest months of the summer. I understand now that this request has nothing to do with a rejection of our love and affection, as Vietnam (although it has been rainy and cold the past few weeks) is a constant summer and the mornings we spent at the Agent Orange group home provided ample opportunities for the children to use me as a human jungle gym.

Despite my inability to shake my desires not to be touched or roughhoused with, what I have gleaned from this experience is that I have a certain fondness for individuals with different abilities. I choose to avoid the common monikers of "handicapped" or "disabled" because none of the children that I met at the Agent Orange group home appeared to me to be deficient in any manner, except if you count thinking differently or looking different or acting differently. What puzzles me is that these are characteristics that we usually applaud when observed amongst the "general" population. However, as soon as an individual's differences are deemed detrimental, our opinion of this individual is transformed from awe and amazement to pity and sometimes even, scorn. As for me, I feel no sadness for the children at the Agent Orange group home. If anything, I might say that I even feel a small degree of jealousy of the freedom with which they are able to express themselves. Below are some pictures not only from our last day, but from some of our earlier days at the AO group home:

Some of the kids asked me to draw them pictures to color in. The coolest part was when we came back the next week, a bunch of the kids were drawing houses that looked just like the one I drew for them the week before!


One of my favorites!


Maybe one of my lesser favorites. Challenging might be the right word.




The guy on the right works for the AO group home and has this really awesome customized motorbike that all of the kids flock to when he comes into work!






The main room of the Agent Orange group home


One of my favorites!!


Our party for our last visit




Note my enthusiasm for being kissed...


And yet, for some reason, when they kiss each other, I think it's cute.