C.R.I.B.S.

BABIES! Rebecca and I love babies. I’m sure a lot of you women can relate… every time we see a baby, our hearts melt with joy and the only word we can utter is, “Aww! Cute!” And believe me, Filipino babies are the epitome of cute. There’s something about their big brown eyes and tanned skin that forces a reaction where all you want to do is hold them.

During our last week in the Philippines, our desires of holding Filipino babies came to reality when we got to visit C.R.I.B.S. (Creative responsive infants By Sharing). I first heard of this organization two years ago when I interned for GCF. Some of the students told me that there was this neat orphanage where you volunteer to hold babies who had been neglected. It’s developmentally essential for babies to be held, and there were simply not enough staff to meet this need. On top of this, C.R.I.B.S. also has other programs for girls who have been sexually abused. [http://www.cribsfoundation.org/]

As soon as we entered the nursery, babies flocked to us. I immediately noticed that these kids were starving for attention and affection. This is not to be mistaken with how the staff treats them, because the staff is excellent. The biggest problem is that they are completely understaffed, so they can’t give the attention each child needs. We had to wash our hands before we could hold the babies, and already we could feel tiny hands touching our legs clamoring for attention.

For two hours, we would hold babies, pick them up, play with them, feed them, and watch them while the staff person would leave to get errands done. One of the babies that found her place in my heart was Flora. At about 1 year old, she had fair skin, curly locks, bright eyes and an unforgettable smile. She crawled her way and raised her arms at me, wanting me to hold her. I picked her up and circled around the room. After five minutes had passed, my arm started to get sore. I tried to sit down to place her in my lap, but every time, her face would make a frown and she would begin to cry. No matter what I tried (making funny faces, funny noises, shaking my legs up and down), she would continue to cry until I stood up and carried her in my arms again. It was like she thought I would let her go and never hold her again. Similarly, other babies would react the same. Momentarily, my heart sank wondering if these kids remembered the time their parents abandoned them and how many times they cried after visiting hours were over and volunteers had to leave the children.

As she sat in my arms in complete contentment smiling at me, my arms felt sore from holding her again. I pondered if she would ever let me put her down. To appease some of the babies, the staff member played some children’s music. Immediately, the babies would quiet as they listened. I attempted for the third time to let Flora down to give my arms a rest. Miraculously, she let me put her down. Still in my arms, she smiled at me and bounced in perfect beat to the music. Together, we danced to “Barney and Friends”. Holding her hands, she looked at me and she started to head bang to the music. Her whole body shook as she laughed. Her hair had come out of her ponytail, wildly resembling a baby Einstein. I couldn’t help but laugh, calling her my beautiful rock star dancer girl. The more I laughed, the more she would laugh and head bang.

Finally happy, she crawled away amused by one of the few toys the orphanage had. As if on cue, Cedric saw my free arms and crawled towards me wanting to be held. I smiled at his demeanor, always serious and rarely smiling. Like Flora, he would only be content if I carried him and would start to cry if I let him down. I let his head rest on me, his little eyes slowly closing. I had to interrupt his falling asleep to feed him oatmeal. I was lucky that Cedric wasn’t too messy, unlike another volunteer who had Flora. I watched her take a bite, shake her head, smile at me in mischief and spit out what she had just put in her mouth. Cedric would just bite and swallow. It was a relatively smooth process, except when another baby crawled towards us dipping his entire hand in Cedric’s oatmeal.

The other baby looked surprised, yet pleased with himself. He lifted his hand to his mouth to lick off the oatmeal, at the same time getting the oatmeal all over the place. I wonder how the staff can handle as many as eight babies at a time. I could barely handle two. Before I knew it, the two hours had gone by and we had to leave the babies. Strangely enough, it was like they all knew it was time for us to go. A sea of cries erupted. Although it was hard for us to leave, at least we knew we would be back the following day.

On day 2, I met CJ. I liked to call him the nutty professor. I loved watching him explore the nursery – the way he would shift his weight from foot to foot making him look like a miniature sumo wrestler (it didn’t help when his cloth diaper started to unravel to resemble a mawashi). There was always a look of curiosity on his face. He waddled to a baby swing. His look was priceless trying to figure out this device. He pushed and watched the seat swing. He smiled, amused. Likewise, I smiled, amused.

I felt someone start crawling over me. I looked down and saw the youngest baby there, smiling at me. I picked him up and he laid his head on my chest. I felt like a mother instantly bonded to this kid I hadn’t known existed even a week before. At least these kids had a home, food, a staff that cared for them, and volunteers that would come and hold them… I know this isn’t an ideal situation, but I wonder how many other babies are discarded, but with no one to love and support them.