Dai Loc

Enoch and I first moved to Vietnam about two years ago. In those two years, we have done a lot of administrative work for Orphan Voice (e.g., maintaining records, fundraising, and reporting) and we have been involved in several projects (e.g., providing disaster relief, delivering food, and providing hands-on care). We have helped at two orphanages in Vietnam, but most of our time has been at an orphanage 45 minutes from Da Nang. For example, over the last month we have shown a movie at this orphanage, we have taken one of the children to the hospital, and we have visited at least four other times for various reasons. In the future, our involvement with those children will increase. We love them. We want to know them more deeply—to understand their emotional and physical wants and needs and, the Lord willing, to help meet them.

The language barrier has made it difficult to develop the type of relationship we are going for. We have to learn Vietnamese. On several occasions Enoch and I studied with Vietnamese friends, but each time we became discouraged and gave up. Now we are determined; we are taking regular classes in a formal setting four times a week. It is tough but we are making slow progress.

Since Friday is our day off from classes, we will be driving to Dai Loc Thursday evenings to spend the night at the orphanage. This gives us the day on Friday to meet with the children individually, to play games, to tutor, to teach English…to develop relationships. Last Thursday was our first sleepover.

When we arrived on Thursday night, the children came running to meet us. They helped us get situated into an extra room, then eyed our belongings with curiosity. We brought out some crafts that my mother had donated, and soon everyone was busy fashioning hearts and flowers out of pipe cleaners.

Enoch showed the older boys our Vietnamese textbook and notes, and that provided quite a bit of entertainment. The night was full of new vocabulary. The children even used props--they brought us a kitten, teaching us to say “meo”, the Vietnamese word for cat. Our weak attempts at pronunciation drew lots of laughter.

Later we styled hair, and soon there was a line of girls waiting their turn with the curling iron. With each new curl that appeared, the onlookers called out “dep”—beautiful.

The night wore on and it was soon time for bed. The orphanage walls have holes to allow a breeze to flow, but bugs use the same openings. The kids and caregivers helped us set up a mosquito net (three sides tied to poles, the fourth to the window), and brought us a blanket for cushion (the children sleep on bamboo mats laid across the wood slats). We hugged the children good night, pointed the fan toward the bed, and turned off the light.

Sometime during the next few hours we lost electricity. It was a hot night.

A little after five, our restless sleep was interrupted by children outside our window. Vietnamese are early risers. We shook a frog out of our clothes, changed, and stumbled toward the bathroom.

By 9:00, we had eaten breakfast, helped one of the older girls study for an English test, played cards and badminton, made crafts with stencils, and tried to catch a bird with the youngest kids. When you are surrounded by 38 children, life is full of activity!