Solo Female, Will Travel: Finding a Family in Fiji
August 11–17, 2019
Treasure House Orphanage in Fiji is, indeed, full of 19 gleaming treasures. There are 19 orphans whose personalities brilliantly radiate, and are shrouded with the selfless love of female caregivers, all affectionately called “Ma.”
The house stands humbly with its front yard and playground facing Queens Road in Nadi, with just two bathrooms for 19 children. Yet all the children go to bed squeaky clean with teeth brushed every night. The caregivers properly bathe all the little kids, no exceptions. Mrs. Singh, the cook, works the tiny kitchen to feed the children three square meals and two snacks every single day. Michael, the driver, deftly transports the kids to and from school in the sparkly white van splashed with “Treasure House Christian Children’s Home” on the side door.
Spending just one week at the orphanage has changed my life. Each of the 19 kids and staff have taught me humility, patience, compassion; and that the greatest gift we can give a child is the opportunity to live up to his or her fullest potential.
Five children have special needs, including ADHD, Autism, Down syndrome, and Spinal muscular atrophy, but this doesn’t break their spirits. Each of their disorders brings a range of tantrums and afflictions, but these are rare. And their character shines through, without allowing their disorder to define them. For example, when Moses’ ADHD gets the better of him, his body bursts with energy, limbs flailing with no heed of who might be in the physical vicinity. One afternoon, Aaron became the unwitting victim of a punch to the face, and Aaron hurled himself on the floor, screaming with Autistic sorrow.
I froze, horrified, untrained in how to handle these fits. But the other children didn’t bat an eye, they didn’t shush Aaron, and knew instantly how to placate him: “Moses, say sorry to Aaron!” they chorused. Moses came sprinting down the hallway, slid onto the floor and wrapped his gangly arms around the screaming Aaron. Moses clumsily embraced Aaron’s head and planted a kiss on his friend’s forehead. “I’m sorry, Aaron…” he quietly asserted, and ran away to resume play. This simple act struck me as so pure, and I marvelled at how easy it is for children to apologize and forgive. If only adults could resolve disagreements so directly..
Each of the children at Treasure House are absolutely precious gems. All 19 will forever hold a special place in my heart:
- Immanuel (6): has these big, wide eyes that are always taking in so much of the world. His mischievous smile emits squeaky shrieks at the most hilarious, inappropriate times
- Shruti (5): a shy little girl who loved slipping her hand into mind. She loved using my body as a jungle gym, lacing her fingers through mine everywhere she went
- Moses (7): always slightly on guard, with eyes that are searching your soul, processing your every move. Once he sizes you up, he’ll pour his affection onto you with the sweetest kisses
- Aaron (8): the handsomest boy who just needs a little extra love from his friends when they wrong him
- Jennifer (15): has conquered her Down syndrome, and won’t take lip from nobody!
- Ahan (2): the littlest child is a curious daredevil, able to keep up with his older orphan siblings by climbing onto the bunk beds and other furniture 10x his height
- Buna (10): has got the spunkiest sass, as well as the dance moves. I’m taking her to the club once she turns 21 ;)
- Gloria (6): the sweet girl, who is the top of her class at school
- Jacob (7): the smart one who will become a world-class orator someday. Whenever visitors come, he proudly enunciates, “I’m Jacob. I’m 7, Year 1 at Namaka Public School, and I live in Treasure House.
- Joel: this little teddy bear was recently adopted out of Treasure House!
- Deffnie (9): though she never uttered a word, her smile communicates every emotion she’s feeling
- Vaseva (19): the tomboy who, when it comes to taking care of her siblings, has the maturity of a 30-year-old
- Ruthie (17): despite a traumatic childhood, the quiet teen would let out guffaws whenever the little ones amused her
- Violet (19): has the poise of someone twice her age. Numerous times, she came to thank me with such gratitude and humility, I could have wept.
- Tyrone (13): the surly teen has overflowing love for animals, especially dogs
- Tiara (11): is immediately friendly to any adult or child, and has the premature grace of a future supermodel
- Eli (7): has the most patience and endurance of any child I’ve ever met
- Keanu (5): the cutest, no doubt :)
- Cedric (10): the smarty pants of the group, and already knows way too much about the world for his age
The older children acted more like adults than I often do, I’m ashamed to admit. They routinely cleaned the home without being asked. Every day, the floor was swept, then mopped with tender care. This is their home, this is the place that houses their few worldly belongings, a place of safety. It’s not enormous, but it has plenty space for the kids and the orphans to bound in and out.
In my jam-packed “busy” work day, the last thing I ever want to do is clean my home. Many families living in Singapore have live-in helpers who keep the household spotless. We relegate cleaning to a despised chore, whereas Fijians view cleaning as an investment: a way to care for the house the shelters them all. One day I will live in and care for a home as much as those kids do :)
And after just one week, I am exhausted. School “winter” holidays meant the kids were home all day. So I helped organize games and entertained the kids. My creaky old body played soccer, led Zumba dances, pushed swings, painted pictures, solved puzzles, belted out songs, and gave countless piggy back rides. I helped with tech and website issues, prepped meals, called companies, wrote donation letters, and voluntarily washed dishes. I even fixed their bikes! But my contributions paled in comparison to the caregivers.
At Treasure House, every caregiver treats each child as a gift from God, and it is so clear that the children couldn’t be loved more. There is no blood relation to the children, there is no giant salary that motivates these women to do what they do. They steadfastly raise these children, with the only reward being the children’s healthy growth and ultimate adoption into good families. This selflessness is unfathomable, and these women are the unsung heroes of their community. 24/7 they think of the children only, and how to maximise the children’s welfare.
So in a small gesture, I took the whole staff to a nice dinner at Port Denaurau. Bonefish Restaurant offers the freshest seafood and a designated children’s area, where we adults could eat in comfort with one eye on the seafood platters and the other eye on the children. “We only eat out at a restaurant on Christmas!” exclaimed Mila, the orphanage director. With my new Fijian family, it certainly felt like a second Christmas dinner to me :)
And amidst everything she does for the kids, Mila even forgot her own birthday. As I am the ultimate birthday celebrator, I was appalled that she could forget to treat herself on her one day. So I made sure Mila was surprised when the restaurant staff came out singing with a special dessert treat.
On my last night, I wanted one more special surprise for the older teens. I was so privileged to grow up with my own bedroom, able to retreat into a quiet space whenever my teenage angst was on high. But these girls have never known privacy, always bombarded by a cacophony of their orphan siblings’ shrieks, wailing, and fits of laughter. It’s already difficult enough to be a teenager, but without space to call your own, building that confidence and independence seems nearly impossible.
That is why Treasure House is planning a second home just for the teenage girls to call their own. (The young boys often are adopted out of Treasure House before they reach their teens, as boys are preferred over girls.) So a separate home for the girls will be essential for a feeling of normalcy.
And a part of teenage life is Girls’ Nights! So I took the big girls out for a fancy dinner at the Sheraton on the beach. We had to distract the little ones with a movie while we dashed out of the orphanage for a “women’s empowerment” dinner. And indeed it was. The girls got all dressed up in their Sunday-best, and donned lipstick and earrings I had packed. And we seven gals strolled up to the Sheraton, and I was so proud of them for confidently walking into the imposing, grand hotel.
Mila and I encouraged them to order whatever they liked off the menu, something they were not accustomed to. Every child at Treasure House gets the same meal, for efficiency and simplicity.
Over kokoda (a Fijian ceviche) and other delicious seafood plates, I spurred our “women’s empowerment” discussion. I encouraged each girl to say something they loved about themselves. At first the girls balked at having to share something so bold, and needed a few minutes to embarrassingly ponder what they could possibly say. But I beamed with pride when they responded with, “my ability to socialise, my helpfulness, my generosity, my cooking skills, my compassion.” We shared many more discussions about our 2019 learnings and our fears, over laughs and dessert.
In the States (and most developed countries), to volunteer at an orphanage and to even get near children would require at least several days of training and orientation. But in Fiji, a sense of trust exists, and I was immediately embraced into the community, no questions asked (I did have to present a background check for good measure.) I was simultaneously taken aback and warmed by this welcoming. In Fiji, there is no reason to distrust people, and there is no truer axiom than “It takes a village.”
In just one week, the Treasure House family and kids have left the biggest fingerprints from their bearhugs on my heart. I still have no maternal instinct, but I have a renewed sense of how precious each child is. Every person deserves to grow up in a home brimming with love and security, no matter where in the world they live. And if I can start by helping these 19, it’s a small start.
Since moving to Singapore, I’m excitedly uncertain where life will take me. I froze my eggs as an insurance policy in case I decide to have kids. I’m hoping I’ll never have to retrieve the eggs, possibly because I may be able to have my own children naturally, but mostly because I hope to adopt children someday. I spent a week at an orphanage, but at the end of my trip, *cheeseball alert!* it was really me who was adopted into their family.
If you’d like to help, the biggest contribution you can make is to donate funds for the construction of the second Treasure House home for the teenage girls. Please email a_treasures@yahoo.com if you’d like to make a contribution, or just get a hold of me. Your support would mean everything to them :)
