Barbara Dobilas and Vanessa Stahl continues their story about Mission 35 in Part II of The Mission 35 Chronicles.

By the middle of the week, we had become accustomed to our surroundings and the routine. Strangely enough, I didn’t miss TV or radio, hot water or my computer although I did wish for an internet connection just to able to communicate with family and friends. It seemed like everyone knew we were in Nicaragua and I felt compelled to keep them updated.

On Wednesday, I went with a small group to the Parjito Azul – Little Blue Parrot – a disability center for mentally and physically handicapped children in Managua. All of the residents lived there, whether orphan or not, they were brought to the center because their families could not take care of them.

The facility was old and spare, but very clean. The staff was attentive and the children and adults seemed well cared for. Most of the people were outgoing and friendly in that innocent, open way that mentally handicapped people can be, as if they are totally unaware of any dangers in the world.

We made our way to the Nursery, a special room that housed the youngest of the residents. There were children ages 2 to 6, all with varying degrees of handicaps. A pretty little 2 year old girl with Downs Syndrome, came toddling right up to us as we walked in and waited for our attention. She was eager to hold hands with one of my fellow Missioners, Pablo who seemed completely smitten by her charms. She was delighted when we took her picture, while her small hand was still holding onto Paul’s finger.

I moved over to the side of the room and found two young boys. They both were staring at nothing and moved their little bodies in twitchy, jerking movements. Angel was about 3 and seemed to be very unaware of his surroundings or my presence. I took a stuffed teddy bear and rubbed it against his stomach, tickling him gently. He responded by smiling. Although he didn’t make eye contact with me, he obviously was enjoying it. I turned to the other young boy, Paulo was a little older, but less responsive. I began stroking his hair and I was rewarded when he started to arch his little body against my hand and seemed to smile. I wanted to think my efforts pleased him.

The tears had started coursing down my cheeks as soon as I had touched Angel, they became almost choking now with Paulo. I was embarrassed to be so emotional, and tried desperately to avoid making eye contact with the others from my group. But there was no hope for it, my face was completely wet with my tears, my nose a lovely shade of red. I at least tried not to sniffle. I kept thinking how desperately sad; these children were so handicapped and had so very little..

I walked towards a small boy lying in a infant seat. His name was Roberto and he completely undid me. Roberto had pediatric encephalitis, or extra fluid inside his head that caused severe compression of his brain. This didn’t allow his brain to develop normally, causing devastating brain damage. In the US, this condition could have been corrected by placing a shunt inside his skull to drain the extra fluid. In Nicaragua, there had been no chance of this for him.

At 4 years old, Roberto was 24 inches long and his small body was badly contorted and twisted. His large eyes strained to the right, seeing but not understanding. The care taker had just given him vitamins in a dropper which he must not have liked because he began to cry when she laid him back in his infant seat. A big tear slowly fell from his eye as he communicated in the only way he could or ever would. I picked him up to sooth him, and began to rock my body from side to side in the time-honored way that anyone who has ever comforted a crying child does. Gently, slowly, with one hand cradling his large head and the other wrapped around his body to hold him securely, he began to settle. As I stroked his hair, I cried and cried, I just couldn’t stop crying. When it was time to leave, I didn’t want to put him down and surprisingly, I was allowed to take him out of the baby room as the other missioners moved through the school.

So we walked, Roberto and me. I lost track of the group and time as I carried Roberto over to the sunshine where he seemed to feel the wind on his face as he shifted in my arms. He wasn’t capable of moving much but he did snuggle in to me and I felt his weight shift. And when I heard that double breath sigh that babies make when they are content, I was happy. Happy to be able to give him my love. After 30 minutes, I reluctantly brought him back to the Nursery. I laid him down in his crib and bent over to kiss his forehead. This boy could have been anyone’s child, any mother could have given birth to him but now he was nobody’s.

After a while, our group came together again and we left to return to El Nino, our home away from home. Hours later, I could still little Roberto in my arms and hear his contented sigh.

Vanessa spent the day planning and painting a mural at the clinic at La Chureca. Sr. Cathy, Vanessa and a team of young people were tasked with painting four walls of a room at the clinic used for families. The big bold butterflies and flowers, all in vibrant colors, seem to radiate joy and love, as the words they painted in the mural clearly spelled out. It was truly a wonderful addition to this clinic. And although the clinic is surrounded by poverty, despair and dirt, inside was becoming an oasis of color and hope.

Mission 35 was unique from the start and not only because it almost didn’t happen! Each Missioner, whether a first-timer or veteran, was involved in accomplishing much for the people who needed help. Whether performing medical testing at a Clinic, making repairs at the Disability Center, painting murals on the walls of the Clinic, delivering rice and beans, helping at the Orphanage and Schools; in each and every way, this unique and special team made a big difference.

Many of the Missioners kept journals to chronicle the events of the week. For some, especially the first-timers, what they saw was overwhelming, unforgettable and life-changing. We’d like to share some of these thoughts and pictures for those who haven’t yet been on a Mission and especially to all of you who continue to help support the NC Mission of Hope.

Here is an excerpt from one of the mother-daughter teams, Missioners Barbara Dobilas & Vanessa Stahl, on their first Mission.

“Upon landing in Managua, we drove past the Banana Pickers Camp in the heart of the city. It was then, that we got our first look at poverty in a third world nation. We may think we know what it looks like, but, until you’ve seen it, you really can’t imagine it.

The “homes” – and we use the term loosely – consisted of shelters made of cardboard, plastic bags and discarded, rusty metal all held together by wire and tape. There was no running water, electricity or sewer. We stopped to take pictures always being conscious to use our limited Spanish and ask people’s names and if we could take a picture. Every single person we asked was friendly and smiled in acknowledgement. A few of the older woman, all with brown, wrinkled faces and toothless smiles, hugged and kissed us, clearly welcoming strangers amongst them. Our feeling is that there are two reasons for this. One is that Nicaraguans are known to be some of the friendliest people in Central America, which we saw evidence of countless times. And secondly and most importantly, the people all seem to have a great and powerful faith in God. These people, who have so little in the way of physical or monetary goods, were blessed. It was humbling.

Banana Camps in Managua

Days were broken into morning and afternoon assignments. On the morning of Day 2, we traveled by truck to help build the home shelters that we had raised funds for. The first home was built for a woman named Arlen, her husband and her 2 sons, Jefferson, 9 and Andy, 7. While the actual “building” is done by those the shelter is for, we watched the construction take place. The shelter was built in less than 2 hours and although we both wanted to pick up a hammer and help, there is a specific reason why it is done this way. By letting the Nicaraguans build their own shelters, they are learning how to do it themselves so they could help build shelters for others in their communities. Not unlike teaching a man to fish vs. giving him one….

Once the shelter was finished, we took a picture with Arlen and her mother; two mother-daughter teams. The huge disparity between our lives and theirs didn’t escape me as we posed for the picture. I had tears in my eyes as I wished Arlen and her family “Buenas suerte en tu nueva casa”– Good luck in your new home. They were happy and very thankful at their good fortune and we felt happy also to be able to share in the excitement with them.

Mothers & Daughters

In the afternoon, a group of about 10 of us went on a “rice and beans” walk. With the help of the local Junta (Leadership Board) leader, we visited poor families that lived in a rural village called Chiquilistagua. In addition to rice and beans, we gave candy and small toys to the children that followed in our wake.

Children on the Rice & Beans walk

And despite the spartan living conditions, shelters again made of any available material, we found the people to be gracious and grateful and always very friendly. We met one woman named Paulesta who told us she was 79. She was so happy to see us that she chatted away in animated Spanish, despite the fact that we really couldn’t understand all that she said! But it’s true that a smile is the universal language as we clearly understood that she was happy to see us.

Juanesta & Vanessa

Our days were spent performing different activities helping others and we will write more about our other adventures at the Dump, Orphanage and La Parijto Azul Children’s Disability Centers soon. It is our responsibility to share as much of our journey with others as possible and most importantly, to convey the desperate need that exists in Nicaragua. Stay tuned…..”