A hurting heart -- Lena

Emily and I had a heart wrenching day on Wednesday, and it had started out with such promise. It was my first day back at school after a bout with a nasty stomach flu. It was so wonderful to see my co-workers and the students again. I was greeted with smiles, hugs, and rejoicing at my recovery (Jordanians are a demonstrative bunch). Emily and I were told that we would be going with 23 students to get new clothes for the Eid (the celebration at the end of Ramadan). It was wonderful to see how happy the students were, and even the teachers taking them were in good spirits. We took a 30 minute bus ride to a shop downtown. It was a small shop so only a couple of students at a time could go in. Emily, myself, and the bus driver stayed on the bus with the remaining students. They were singing songs, clapping their hands and chatting it up. It was a big party. After we had been there about an hour and a half the energy levels dropped and most of the students were sitting fairly quiet, talking to us and each other. Around this time some small school children started passing by our bus (during Ramadan schools are let out quite early). Initially they would just look on in curiosity at our bus, but then the curiosity changed.
It brings tears to my eyes thinking of it even now. These small kids, ranging from 5 to 15 were staring, teasing, taunting, and ridiculing our students as they sat on the bus, or when they walked between the bus and the store. I would chase them off, and they would be replaced by more kids doing the same thing. Although our students are mentally handicapped, they understood what was going on. Seeing the hurt in their eyes made it all the worse. I wanted to take each and every one of those kids and introduce them to the human beings that they were treating so cruelly, to show them that my students, my friends are people; wonderful, kind, and loving people. People that, sadly, live in a culture that hasn't yet learned to treat them with the respect that they deserve. We long for the day that this reality will be no more. Honestly we long for the day when they will be healed of their infirmities, but until that day comes, we have schools like the Bunyat that are striving to make this world a better place. They give skills and dignity to the students that they teach and bring understanding to the culture around them. I'm proud, for the short time I will be here, to be a part of something so wonderful.