Father Ho-Lung’s Church

Sunday March 14, 1999. Kingston, Jamaica

As I stepped through those gates, I felt like I was being hit with bricks coming from all directions. I took a deep breath, put a smile on my face and socialized with the congregation. I was shocked, although it was my second time being there, by how many people had physical disfigurations and were mentally challenged. The kid with the disfigured head and face was there again. He grabbed everyone one at a time and gathered us into a group. Kids talked our ears off, hugged us, drooled on us, played with my hair, whatever....... When I visited Father Ho-Lung’s church and went to each placement and I saw how people lived in poverty, I felt sorry for myself, my family and loved ones for totally different reasons. We, as humans tend to feel sorry for those who have little materialistically and who are physically derranged, which is natural. But we never realize that we are the one’s who are deprived of all of the riches of life. We don’t see the richness of a smile, a hug, a hello, the sun, or just waking up alive. We are extremely ungrateful for our many blessings. Whereas, these people who cannot walk, talk, see, hear, who are disformed, who are without a family, who are locked up somewhere because they aren’t good enough for the world, are very grateful for what they have. They are grateful for everything that we take for granted.

Trenchtown

Saturday May 13, 2000. Kingston Jamaica

We were walking through the back alleys of Trenchtown passing by goats and children running aroung naked, bathing, women washing clothes outside in basins, people hanging out of their windows and doors.... Leigh then turns to me with this great big smile on her face and says, “I feel so content right now”. This statement was the epitemy of being alive. This was what it meant to live. When you can be in a place that has nothing materialistically and still have a feeling of contentment because of the richness of the community’s heart and passion, that’s when you live. When in the midst of all this violence you can find peace.

A Slap in the Face!

Sunday May 14, 2000. Kingston, Jamaica

Mr. Callaghan took us on this long ass walk today because he didn’t know where he was going and didn’t want to admit it. Boy was I tired! I was dehydrated, my throat hurt and I had a headache. But it was worth it! During our walk, we went into New Kingston, which is the rich part of Kingston, and walked into the Hilton Hotel. I did not like it! It was like looking in the mirror at an ugly creature (instead of the beautiful princess I’m always used to seeing). This was such a slap in the face!

Church on a Downtown Kingston Bus

Tuesday May 16, 2000. Kingston, Jamaica

On the bus today there was a woman singing gospel songs. She sang her heart out. She then started to preach. She was preaching about everything from sex before marriage to parents abandoning their children. She also prayed for all the people on the bus. What struck me even more was that people on the bus reacted to what she was saying. I heard “Amen’s”, “Alleluia’s”, “Yes”, “Jesus”, coming from all corners of the bus. It was incredible! I wonder how long she would have lasted on the TTC? I mean how long it would take before she was cursed out or diagnosed as an insane patient. I just thought that it was a beautiful thing for a church to be on a downtown Kingston bus.

Dare to Care

Monday May 20, 2002. Kingston, Jamaica

Last night a little boy that was very sick with AIDS passed away. The nurses told the other children that he was at the hospital because they didn’t want to upset them. But those kids knew what had happened. Many of them were crying. What’s really fucked up is that I was one of the very last people he saw. ME! Not his mother, or father, or brother or sister. Me! A 22 year old girl who lives in a nice home with a good family, who goes to University, has a job and lives in Canada. That’s fucked up!

Junior

Tuesday May 21, 2002. Kingston, Jamaica

I fed my boy Junior today and he was so happy. As I fed him, he would say things like, “Yummy for my tummy.” He also would act like a lion or a tiger as I put a spoonful of food into his mouth. It was hilarious! So, I see he’s having fun, so I decide to have a little fun with him too. I start to do the airplane thing with a spoonful of food. As the spoon is flying towards him, he opens his mouth to eat it, and I turn the corner and miss his mouth. He thought this was so funny! We continued to play with the food some more and had a blast! Then he burped. I couldn’t stop laughing. The burp was so loud and I couldn’t contain myself. He knew I was having so much fun with this, so he continued to burp on purpose. And each time he did we couldn’t stop laughing. This was one of the most beautiful moments o f my life.

Jerusalem

Monday May 20, 2002 Kingston, Jamaica

Nicky, is 24. She lays on her back all day and chews on her feet and hands. The nurses have to wrap towels around her hands to prevent her from chewing off her hands. Today they took the towels off. Some of her fingers were bitten off and the skin on her hands were bitten off. It was bleeding. She still chewed on her hands... it was disgusting! She is the skinniest person I’ve ever seen. She is the saddest looking human being I’ve ever seen in my life and this is five trips deep for me. I try to connect with her by talking to her or something, but I can’t because I can’t look at her face for too long. It makes me sick. I feel horrible, but it’s the truth. I am unable , at this point, to see past her scars and go deeper, to connect with her. I don’t know, I’ve worked with mentally and physically challenged people before and was able to do this. In fact, I enjoy working with the mentally and physically challenged. But I can’t do it with Nicky. It’s horrible because nobody pays any attention to her. When she’s bored of chewing her hands and feet, she crawls on her hands and knees or sometimes her belly, like a worm. It is beyond explanation. I just don’t get it! Nicky, like many others there, are just existing. Working here is one of the most difficult things I ever had to do. And I can’t help but reflect on my experiences because all I’m faced with is my own reflection. I am constantly being faced with myself.

Nicky or Tamara?

Wednesday May 22, 2002. Kingston, Jamaica

I felt a little embarrassed today, because 24year old “Nicky” who eats her hands and slithers on her stomach, is actually “Tamara”. So now I know her real name. I felt like an idiot calling her Nicky and having one of the nurses correct me. And I was confident too. On the bright side of things, I made the patients laugh a lot today. It all started with my boy, Junior. I always chill with him because I’m in love with him and he finds me hilarious! It’s so easy to make him laugh. Anyway he kept calling me a clown and then a bright idea came to me. I remembered that I had my clown nose in my napsack and I put it on. I had it on for about a half an hour and didn’t say a word. I made funny faces and interacted with only sounds. They found this so funny! Even the patients that aren’t usually very responsive showed much interest. This, for me, was extremely rewarding. To be able to make the patients who don’t normally respond in positive ways, laugh. Instead of moaning and groaning from pain, they were actually laughing all because of a simple clown nose.

Junior needs the Washroom

Today, he told me that he needed to pee and I was under the impression that he wanted “me” to help him. I was right. He showed me where his piss container was and started to get very antsy because he really had to go. I have never done this before and I didn’t want him to piss himself, so I acted fast. I got his piss container and he told me to unzip his pants and to put his ‘thing’ in the container. So...... I did. I held on to his ‘thing’ until he finished pissing. He knew I felt uncomfortable, so he started to tell to me about other things so that I would feel more comfortable. Unfortunately, I got some piss on my hands, because I let go when he wasn’t finished. I helped him piss again today and I think I now got it down pat. After the piss incident, I read some of my journal to Junior and he wanted to write something to me as well. So I wrote it for him while he spoke:

To Bridget,

I love you very much. I love you because you like to feed me and put me to bed.

From, Junior

Crossfire

Tuesday May 28, 2002. Kingston, Jamaica

We got off at our stop and started to walk up the street that we were told not to. Now, we always walk up this street, but his time it felt so eerie and desolate. There weren’t many people out on the streets. I was terrified! This walk seemed like it was 10 miles long. I’ve never been so paranoid in my life. My heart was beating so fast, and basically I thought I was going to get caught in a crossfire. Literally, each step I took, felt like it was going to be my last. I made it. When I got into the school yard, I exhaled. I then saw Ryan and Brenda sauntering up towards us. They gave us shit for walking up that street. Apparently, a few minutes before we got there, there was a shoot out on that street and Ryan, Brenda and Tony were sitting on the corner having a cigarette, when they had to hit the floor on their bellies. A bullet had flew right over their heads because one gunman was trying to hit another gunman who was standing on the other side of Ryan, Brenda and Tony. This was so scary! And here we come walking up that street after what had just happened. If we were a few minutes earlier, we would have been caught in a crossfire. Never again!