One Love

“It’s 6:15 ladies” in a sweet (singing) voice from Jordan is a much more pleasant wake-up call then the obnoxious repetitive drone of the alarm clock back home. In fact, I decided long ago alarm clocks should be outlawed and that I’d prefer if we could all go back to the day when we’d wake with the sun and sleep with the rising moon. That said, although it’s still an earlier start to my day than I would like (feeling rather sleep-deprived this week), I quickly wash my face, brush my hair & teeth, toast a piece of oat bread with almond butter, inhale the last cup of Jamaican blend with the obligatory drop of condensed milk, make sure my bag is packed with all the daily necessities (lip balm, work gear, lots of wipes, camera gear!) and by the time we’ve boarded the bus I’ve forgotten what time it is. By mid-morning, I haven’t a clue. And it will continue this way throughout the day, as we are guided as a team, somewhat like sailors are by the stars, by the height of the sun as it rests in the island blue, Jamaican skies above us.

So I’ll admit to getting choked up at least one time (ok, more like four…) each day I’ve been here. I never know exactly what will pull at my hearts strings in any given day until it happens and here we are at day 5 and before the bus departs the driveway at Sophie’s Place, my eyes already begin to well up. Donavan, my resident photography mentee of sorts, is roaming around the area where we’ve boarded the bus, interacting through open windows with those already seated as if to see us off. I give him a good morning hug, make my way up the steps, and find a seat by the door, giving him a high-five before the doors close. I feel guilty because we’ve been offsite the past several days and I haven’t had much time with the children at Sophie’s Place, Donavan included.  He has taken to my camera in a huge way, so much so that when I let him use it, it’s rather difficult to get it back. Mentally challenged in many ways, I hear he’s had the tendency to act up but has mellowed since last year… What I’ve observed is that he is a very sweet boy who often lacks the ability to express himself but he’s a quick learner.  He’s already mastered the on, off, shutter & playback buttons on my Canon 5D and would be perfectly content snapping photos and previewing them ALL DAY LONG. J Like several of the kids at Sophie’s, he seems hungry for stimulation and I just know in my heart if he had more one-on-one attention, he could really thrive. All this runs through my head as we pull away and head up the road to Jerusalem for the third day and I wonder what sort of camera I could send him and who might be able to print the occasional photo for him to keep as he stands there waving, Beanie Baby in one hand.

I set my camera to high speed as we drive down the mountainside toward Kingston and attempt my daily drive-by, street lifestyle photos from the bus window while nearly everybody else on the bus sleeps. Maybe it was all those Red Stripes enjoyed at Jackets last night for our team excursion, J. I hope to capture school kids in uniforms waiting at the bus stop, Jamaican colors and street vendors selling their wares in the early morning light and I’m lucky enough to capture a few happy accidents before we arrive nearly two hours later in Jerusalem for what will be our last day there.

On today’s agenda: finishing the mosaic tile walkway we’ve widened to accommodate wheelchairs, a birthday party for Kevin’s 10 year old sponsor child, and saying goodbye to the kids since we’ll be headed to Jacob’s Ladder tomorrow. It was a long day. Upon arrival we wasted no time before setting up our work/water camp and heading to devotion in the chapel. Nick, one of the long term volunteers, led the service. It was touching. Not being one who attends church often (sorry, Dad), I have to say I could get used to this. A young man with Down’s Syndrome sits beside me and takes my hand. Again, GULP. My heart sinks a little and I can just feel the love in the room.

I spent about two hours working up a good Jamaican sweat scraping thin-set from tiles with the most primitive of available tools (at one point, a rock with a sharp edge) in preparation for the grouting process, and then I slipped away to find the teacher who had stopped me on the way to chapel to say good morning with the most beautiful smile, followed up with a comment on how tired I looked ha ha. When she suggested I sneak in an hour nap at some point, in fact insisted I promise her I would, I suggested, instead that I’d like to take photos of the school children. I told her this would make me the MOST HAPPY. J She had told me she’d see what she can do and to come find her later that morning. Feeling good about having contributed to the work project, I proceeded toward her classroom with excitement. For those who know me, NOTHING brings me more joy than traveling & immersing myself in other cultures- meeting & interacting with new people, mainly the elderly & children (perhaps they are the easiest to please and therefore the most rewarding) bring me the MOST joy. I entered her classroom with a smile on my face and she welcomed me with opened arms and ushered me into a neighboring classroom with mentally challenged kids who I had the OK to photograph. I was in my element & this made me very happy. Seeing the kids, each one more adorable than the next, respond to my lens and then gather round and insist on previewing my captures was a total blast.  I allowed some of the kids to handle my camera as I often do, teaching them the basics and gently placing the cloth strap around their neck and making sure their tiny fingers could find the shutter button. The smiles on their faces were absolutely priceless and worth the risk to my gear. The teachers were enjoying my presence as well and gleefully posed for the camera.  I truly treasured my time spent with these children and silently thought if I had the means, I’d put about 10 of them in my pocket and bring them back to the States to give them a chance at a life of dreams outside the walls of the albeit amazing Mustard Seed.  As I hugged each and every one of them goodbye, another gulp. Auntie Jennifer, Auntie Jennifer… When will you be back? Oh my, here come the waterworks… As I walk down the cement path back to our work site, a small girl grabs my arm and then I realize, having two deformed feet, she hasn’t got the use of her legs and is relying on me to pull her along… I pause for a moment and wonder a whole heap of things, the least of which is to what room she belongs, when I see a young boy round the corner with her wheelchair. I am so touched by this gesture and yet I see it everywhere. One child helping another without needing to be asked, sisters and brothers, abandoned by their own families who have somehow found their way to Mustard Seed and into the arms of a family all their own.

 I return to the worksite with a rather large smile on my face, hit the bathroom to quickly refresh, get back to work for a short while before we are called to the pavilion for lunch. Today K-Jam (this is Jamaican Kevin our group security guy not to be confused with our team leader, Kevin J) has remembered I’d prefer not to eat red meat as I must’ve mentioned to him I’m putting my vegetarianism on hold for this trip and am willing to cheat with white meat, brings out a special plate of chicken and veggie salad. Again, I love this place and feel I’ve been surrounded by an unbelievable amount of smiles and grace since arriving. It’s been a full day so far and lunch with the team and time in the chapel are always a pleasant break.

After an enjoyable lunch, we head back to our tile site. I’m lagging behind with camera in hand, as usual, and Nick & Jericho, MSC long-term volunteers are taking their time as well. We all agree to make a pit stop at the Pavilion for the disabled kids- varying in age from 5 to maybe 30 or more with disabilities ranging from mild to severe, to spend some quality time.  It’s not exactly an easy place to be but I wanted to go. I was quickly led by hand by a small boy to a table full of broken books. He selected two and I led him to a picnic table to read. Not much of an attention span, that one, but he had a huge enthusiastic smile on his face, nonetheless, so I just kept on reading as several other boys gathered around- I didn’t get the impression any one child was really listening as one of them was turning pages quicker than I had the time to read, but I had already learned that’s not the point and it’s the attention, simply being together, that was all that mattered. As I begun to lower myself closer to the floor so a small boy with little use of his legs, could listen in, he self-sufficiently propped himself up on the bench before I knew it- It’s amazing how many of the children have acclimated to their disability. I must’ve spent a good hour or more in this area and enjoyed every minute of it although, as feeding time began moments later, again, it was somewhat difficult to watch but the caretakers seemed to enjoy having me there so I stayed a while longer. I walked around and interacted with as many as possible, touching the arms of some, kissing the forehead of others, embracing those lovable kids who tend to run up and grab you at every turn, playing with the camera and letting them take photos of one another, and even engaging in some pleasant conversation such as with a surprisingly wise wheelchair bound man who asked me where I was from and a handsome charismatic boy who’d become attached to my sunglasses. Needless to say, he’s now rocking my vintage-style Anthropologie sunglasses. It’s hard to say no to these kids! Besides, he really did look better in them than I did anyway.

ONE LOVE.

-Jennifer (1^st Year)