Memories From the Middle of the World

Sarah Kuck studies environmental journalism at WWU and is our Whatcom Watch intern. She is also the chief editor of The Planet.

As the baggage carousel came to a slow defeating stop, I gave up hope. Approaching the counter, I quickly tried to look up how to say, “it’s a small green duffel bag” in Spanish. Obviously familiar with the process, the airport attendant’s fingers moved quickly through the paperwork.

“Please, escribame tu nombre y information aqui,” although her badge said ‘bilingual,’ her words said Spanglish.

When I decided to go to Ecuador, I expected I would lose my baggage. I even assumed I would lose my wallet and maybe my lunch. However, I never expected to lose my heart.

I traveled to Quito, Ecuador, with the mastermind behind the adventure—my friend and roommate, Leigh Newman-Bell. A sociology major and Spanish minor at Western Washington University, Leigh was also my translator and teacher, which was important since bilingual more than often meant terrible Spanglish.

It took about 30 seconds for Leigh to talk me into traveling to South America to volunteer with an organization called Global Crossroad. We signed on as volunteers for an orphanage called Talitha Cumi located in Quito.

Quito is the capital city of Ecuador in northwestern South America. Nestled in the Andes, approximately 1.8 million people live in this bustling city. We lived in Northern Quito with an elderly couple, whose house was two blocks from the orphanage.

Talitha Cumi was one of the smallest orphanages and one of the most rundown. In its previous life it was an abandoned house. Now falling apart, the government has tried to close it down for health and safety violations, but at the same time the police continue to bring children living on the street to its door.

About 25 children between the ages of six months and 17 years old lived at the orphanage. A few children had mental disabilities, some were quite ill and most were malnourished.

It was difficult to remember the despair when we were with the children. Bright, funny and energetic, the children at the orphanage seemed to rarely think about their pasts or futures. For three weeks Leigh and I were their playmates. We painted a mural, colored, played soccer and taught each other our languages.

We had been working at the orphanage for about a week when Joselin Badillo and her brother, Leonardo, arrived at the orphanage. The skinny 13-year-old told Leigh, who translated to me, that she and Leonardo had no one to look after them because their pregnant mother had become ill and was rushed to the hospital. Tears teetered at the edge, waiting to cascade down her cheeks as she told of her father. No longer wanting the responsibilities, he recently told their mother that he wanted nothing to do with Joselin and Leonardo. He then ran off with their aunt.

Joselin soon became our favorite. She loved to play soccer, dance and constantly requested for us to sing classic Michael Jackson songs. If I was any older or had any money, I would have adopted her if I could have. I would have adopted any of those children; However, Joselin was one of the few children not up for adoption.

Leigh and I met Joselin’s mother two days after she had her baby. With nowhere else to go, the mother of three and the newest edition to the family were allowed to stay together at the orphanage until they can get on their feet again. For once, the orphanage’s lack of structure was a blessing in disguise.

Three weeks later, our time at the orphanage had expired. The time to leave came much too soon and we said our goodbyes through smiles and tears. Joselin was crying. I didn’t want them to be sad or see me cry, but it was all I could do to hold back my tears until I was past the gates.

Leigh and I stayed in Ecuador for about four weeks, volunteering for three and traveling for one. Our last week, we traveled to the mountains and to the coast. During my short visit I grew to love the people, culture and geography of Ecuador. I left almost all my belongings with the orphanage, including a piece of my heart. But I replaced it with memories of their smiles and laugher. §