CHAIN reflection

This was what's called a "directed response" and the question was: How has your service learning experience met or changed your expectations?
Obviously mine is at CHAIN, which i guess some blog readers might not know, but i still thought this could be a cool update for people. Voila:

My expectations for working at CHAIN were that it would be the stereotypical Western-African interaction. I was working in an orphanage, for goodness sakes! I thought the environment would be difficult, full of sick children, burnt-out workers, and gloomy classrooms. I expected myself to struggle with the reality of such poverty, to have to set my teeth and smile despite my overwhelming sadness. However, anyone who has been to CHAIN knows that description is entirely wrong.
Our first day at CHAIN, we were dropped off to the sound of children singing on their way home from school, swinging backpacks and jostling each other out of thee way of the oncoming car. I thought to myself, “Oh, OK, these are the kids that get to go home to their families, not the orphans I am going to work with.” That was indeed the case, but inside the gates of the compound lay my real surprise. Children laughing, playing, blind ones being pulled good-naturedly along behind their brothers and sisters. The physical deformity of some of the little ones was a little overwhelming at first, but when they began to speak English to us and tug at my hand, it was impossible not to forget oozing eyes or bumpy foreheads in favor of smiles and shy good will. The orphanage itself was the most idyllic place I have yet to see in Mukono District, a balm to the soul of anyone who passed there. The rolling hills, buildings painted with animals and smiling children, the smooth grass and neat bunk beds, all combined to combat every image of an African orphanage the Western media has ever projected upon us.
I know the fact that my sweepingly depressing stereotypes were wrong does not imply that the children at CHAIN lead a painless existence, at all. My friend there, Shakira, explained to me haltingly the death of her father and illness of her mother in Kampala. Her story is not unique, and the presence of her sister at the orphanage actually gives her more comfort than some of the little ones have. Yet, I did learn a solid lesson from the shock of realizing what I had expected and what was actually the case. I had expected God to throw down a gauntlet of acclimation, of realization of the truth of poverty. I had expected to struggle to simply be present there, to withstand the onslaught of sadness. However, my challenge is not to manage to stay in the presence of my friends at CHAIN, it is to be fully present. The soothing sound of birds and children playing disavow any excuse I might have had of it “being too much.” No, my course is to engage, to draw out the little ones in a way that shows them their value and lets me learn from their stories and experience. This is so hard for me, knowing that I can’t resort to a lesson plan or devotional, that it isn’t enough to just “visit the orphans” and pat their heads, retreating to the role of the shocked American. I have to step up and be the 20 year-old that I am, making the effort to talk to the kids and to get them to play, even though it’s hard.
This lesson has changed my perception of how God wants me to interact with poverty. It is not enough to visit the sick or the poor like you are watching them on the evening news, with guilty detachment or the vague inclination to act. It is not enough to visit thinking that by standing in a corner you are helping them realize their “value.” That is too easy for the visitor, and too futile for the visited. If you want to make any sort of effect, you have to step outside your comfort zone and engage your surroundings while maintaining the humble attitude of an outsider, a learner. I am so thankful for my time at CHAIN and my opportunity to practice this difficult job of moving beyond the audience, into the action.

-Emmes