Last night we flew back into Beijing.  After some quick shopping this morning, we went out for another delicious meal.  The last three times I’ve been to China, I’ve lost at least 10 pounds.  This time, without a doubt, we all gained weight.  (Thank you, Celesta, for planning such incredible meals for us!)

After lunch we got to visit the China Care Home in Beijing, an incredible opportunity that very few people ever receive.  This is Half the Sky’s newest program.  The China Care Foundation (which began as a 16 year old’s Eagle Scout project, 10 years ago) partnered with Half the Sky last year, and we got to be there for the 1st birthday celebration today.  What an incredible place.

Before the party, we toured the China Care Home, which houses the most medically fragile orphans. On every wall throughout the China Care Home are bright, adorable, framed pictures created by the children in Half the Sky’s preschool programs.  One side has 50 cribs, reserved for babies who have just had surgery at one of Beijing’s top hospitals.  Again, there is a very low nanny to child ratio.  A nanny also goes to the hospital and stays with the baby, just as a mother would. The other side has 24 cribs, and is reserved for babies needing longer term care.  There are 8 apartments set up – each with a twin bed and 3 cribs in the room where a foster mom takes care of and loves those three babies 24 hours a day, 6 days a week.

We saw some TINY babies today…some waiting for surgery, and some who have just had surgery (a shunt put in their head, heart surgery, cleft palate surgery, imperforate anus surgery, and many more).  We also saw some really happy babies who have healed and are getting ready to return to their orphanages.

The party was wonderful, complete with touching poems that the “mothers” wrote, a slideshow of the kids, a HUGE birthday cake, and a very touching speech by a teary Jenny Bowen—who of course made us all cry.  “You’ve saved lives, you’ve touched lives, and for the first time in many of these children’s lives, they’ve experienced love because of you.”  What an intense ending to such an emotional week.

Sadly, this is our last day together as a group.  I feel so blessed to have been on this incredible trip, with such an amazing group of people.  I truly think we will be friends for many years to come.

We finished our incredibly emotional day, and our incredibly emotional week, with a huge celebration tonight.  We went out for a Peking Duck dinner, followed by a surprise 40th birthday party for me (complete with a cake and a very fitting gift – 5 sets of chopsticks).   Then we all got up in the duck restaurant and made a line, snapping and swaying, and singing, “Boom – Dee-Ah-Da – Boom –Dee-Ah-Da — Boom – Dee-Ah-Da – Boom –Dee-Ah-Da” to all of the Half the Sky staff.

Patrick and Patti had written a wonderful song that celebrated each of us & recounted some special memory from that week – paint drips, Janie’s groan, me learning how to use chopsticks… and then the Top Ten things we would miss about being in China.  What a fun night.

Just when it seemed as if it couldn’t get any better, we finished the night with an incredibly relaxing and indulgent 90 minute group foot massage.   You sit in really comfortable chairs, with your feet in hot tea, then a young man sits on an ottoman and massages your feet and calves with warm lotion for 90 minutes.  After that, you go out to another room, where another person massages your shoulders, neck, and back for another 10 minutes, all for less than $25.  Heavenly.

As I laid there, completely and totally relaxed, thoughts of the previous week floated through my mind – walking in to the orphanage that first morning, sitting outside and painting those tiny chairs, having the new youth mentors come over and practice talking to us in English (and Jeannette and Gloria practicing their Mandarin).

I thought of the walk around the building with the preschoolers, the treasure hunt on the playground with the older kids, all of the babies and precious children I got to hold, and the director talking about “A More Beautiful Tomorrow.”

I thought of CiCi, our “Happiness Girl,” the dumplings the staff made us for lunch at the orphanage, and the way they thoughtfully washed my rubber-banded-chopsticks and set them out for me each day.

I thought of one of the bus drivers taking the bucket of paint out of my hand and painting his bus wheels lavender, and of the very serious guard who saluted us as we came in and left each day—and how we made him smile as we all saluted him one morning.

I thought of our “Santa Workshop” in the lobby with all of the donations from Radio Flyer, the trainings we were so fortunate to sit in on, the duck line of preschoolers all holding on to the shirt in front of them, the kisses on the elevator, all the little girls dressed up like princesses for the party, the tiny babies in the China Care Home, the “Built with Love and Hope” wall that we all signed…and the list just goes on and on and on.

What a phenomenal week.   I knew it was going to be amazing, but it was SO much more than I ever imagined it could be.

We are back in Beijing.  Today, like yesterday (and really every day here) was another day full of emotion and inspiration.  We were so lucky to get to see HTS’s China Care facility and join in with the children and staff as they celebrated the 1 year anniversary of their opening.

Here we met some of HTS’s most fragile children, those with the most dire medical needs.  Honestly, these little angels stole my heart.  And speaking of angels, the nannies and nurses and foster moms…I swear I could see the halos!

After leaving China Care feeling both emotionally drained and uplifted, we capped off the day with some frenzied shopping at the Silk Market, a fabulous duck dinner and birthday celebration (Kim is turning 40!), and the most incredible foot massage.

Tomorrow we’ll leave China with trinkets and jade, full bellies and soothed feet, but mostly unbelievable memories and an even stronger commitment to Half the Sky and the children.

As a final note, I want to say how honored and happy I was to meet Jenny Bowen, Executive Director and Zhang Zhirong (aka ZZ), Managing Director, Programs on this trip.  The energy, commitment, and passion they share is incredible. Really, I hate to sound like a starstruck teenager but… WOW!  These women are the best!  And Carol Kemble, HTS’s Director, Individual Philanthropy and our leader on this trip … ditto!  We couldn’t have asked for a more kind, generous, and compassionate soul to take us on this amazing journey.  She is truly a gem.  And to all of the hugely talented and big-hearted staff at HTS (Rachel Xing, Celesta to name just two) we’re so lucky to have met you all.  Thank you so much!   – Jeannette

The Top Ten List: What We (Patrick and Patti) Will Most Miss

10.  Dumplings

9.    CiCi, our happiness girl (Changchun CWI staff member)

8.    Changchun CWI saluting security guards

7.    Knowing the difference between latex and enamel paint …. NOT!

6.    Mr. Liu and his no-fault policy for volunteer boo-boos

5.    The Rotarians (SF Chinatown branch) asking at every meal, “Is this spicy?”

4.    Chinglish: “Talenty Education Academy” or “Full Booby Massage”

3.    All the children at Changchun CWI and China Care

2.    Our dearest work crew, and now good friends — Arleen, Faye, Gayle, Gloria, Janie, Jeannette, Kim, Lea, Susan

1.    Our talented and untiring HTS staff — Carol, Celesta, Jenny, Rachel, and Zhang Zhirong

Final Thoughts

It hit me during a group foot massage – the last (and best) one that I would experience before leaving China – that the past week was just as much about our crew creating its own sense of family as it was about giving orphans hope for finding their own.

Yes, we painted, constructed, assembled, spilled and moved many walls, chairs, bikes and paint. Yes, all of it was for the children – to give back and to help ensure the success of Half the Sky programs.

But all those physical objects we left behind in Changchun – the tables and toys – will someday expire. The bookshelves will start to sag and the dress-up clothes will show wear-and-tear. But what we’re bringing back to the U.S. is something much more significant and longer lasting: a greater understanding for what it means to care and love for one another.

Over the past week, our crew built a sense of family from our shared passion for experiencing and giving love. The Rotary ladies and all the mothers in the group treated me as a friend and as a son – or grandson, for that matter – and between shopping, eating and working together all day, every day, I felt the love of an extended family that, having never had the chance to get to know my grandparents before they passed, I hadn’t ever experienced before.

All the motherly energy around me made me realize how much I miss my own family; between being a college student during the school year and working internships during the summer, I’ve been at home for only a few weeks over the past three years.

But most importantly, the week helped me realize that I have a lot to go back to in the U.S. – not only that I am very fortunate to have a family, but also that I now share a special bond with eleven other people, most of whom I hadn’t met before last Saturday.

I was getting ready to go to the airport with Arlene and Sue, and we were contemplating the mountain of luggage that would hopefully fit into the trunk of our taxi. Jeanette was on her way up back to her hotel room, and so we were saying our last goodbyes, when she remarked how well our group had gotten along. “It’s because we all care for each other,” Sue proclaimed in her wise, grandmotherly tone that she reserves for particularly profound statements.

I thought about what she had said – was it really that simple? That we just cared for one another, and in light of that simple fact, had formed a kind of friendship that, in other scenarios, takes months, even years to build?

How could something so simple produce something so special?

All I had to remember in answering my own question was our visit to the China Care home on the one-year anniversary of when Half the Sky took full on responsibility for running the program.

To celebrate, all of the kids, their nannies, their nurses, and their foster moms, gathered in a small room downstairs, and we had the chance to join them. For nearly an hour, the groups of nannies and foster moms sang songs, individuals recited poems they had written, the medical staff gave a collective speech – all to commemorate the progress and change China Care had made in the past year.

I didn’t pick out most, if any, of the Chinese words in the songs, poems or speeches, but I just felt, and knew, in my heart, that what I had witnessed was honest and raw emotion. [HTS Note: The China Care nannies gave a performance of a traditional Chinese poem called “A loving mother’s heart” and sang a nursery rhyme called “Mama is the best person in the world.”]

Everyone was tearing up, and when they started a photo slideshow of the kids, the oohs and aahs of recognition as familiar faces floated by on the screen gave away just how closely knit this community had become. I didn’t need to understand what was going on literally, because I understood it emotionally.

Sue is right: it boils down to caring. It’s what your mom tells you when you’re little, to care and think about other people’s feelings, and not just your own; it’s what Kim teaches her first-graders in Florida, to care about and look out for one another; it’s what you do when you help someone out, whether she is a stranger, an acquaintance or a friend of many years.

It’s what the China Care staff does, all day, every day, because they can, and because there is no other way to make sure these orphans get the care and love they need.

It’s what our crew does, and will continue to do, for each other and for the kids that Half the Sky has been able to reach, by continuing on in our lives with a deeper awareness of what it takes to truly care, and truly love, another human being.

As I was riding to the Beijing Airport early this morning, my eyes were stinging with tears.  Every time I come to China, it’s always very difficult to leave.  It’s almost as if a part of me feels like I belong here in some way.  I love how the Chinese people make you feel so welcome.  As I was saying goodbye to ZZ last night, she gave me such a sincere hug, and said, “Come visit again.  We are family now.”

As expected, this trip to China has forever changed me.  I leave China today with far more than I had two weeks ago…far more compassion and patience, far more love and hope, and far more passion for helping children without families.  I leave here enthusiastically committed to spreading the word about Half the Sky, and the incredible things they are doing.

The last eight days at the orphanage in Changchun and the China Care Home in Beijing, have been incredible.  It’s been such a heartwarming, emotional, and immensely rewarding week.  What a privilege to witness, first hand, the amazing things that Half the Sky has accomplished in the last ten years in China…and what they are so close to accomplishing in the future.  I never want to forget any of it.

I’ve been incredibly blessed with my three daughters from China…so much so that it’s impossible to describe the depth of joy that they’ve brought to our lives.  I came here wanting to give something back, and instead I was the one who received an incredible gift.  Apart from adopting my children, this by far, has been the most inspiring and extraordinary experience of my life.  Thank you, Half the Sky, not only for all of the miraculous things you are doing in China, but for giving me the incredible opportunity to see it and be a part of it.  – Kim

Sitting now and reflecting over the past 10 days, I can hardly believe that I am writing this from our home in Hood River.

What did I learn?

• Well, I learned the painters of the world do not have to worry about their jobs.
• I learned that I should buy bikes already assembled.
• I learned that I will try all UFO’s (unidentified food objects) at least once.
• I learned that squatting toilets are not so bad.
• I learned that no matter how chaotic the roads may appear in China I never saw a pedestrian hit by a car.
• I learned that people in China love their children just as much as people in America love theirs.
• I learned about the China Care Program.  The China Care Home is an interim residential care facility for medically fragile orphaned infants.  This program is just one of the many programs supported by Half the Sky Foundation.
• I learned that the foundation we have been supporting for the last nine years does more than I ever imagined.

Still, it goes deeper than that.  I learned that Half the Sky’s employees are passionate about their work.  They provide a rich environment for the children, but they give the children much more than that.  They give the children the one thing money truly cannot buy – love.

I learned that I cannot save the world but I can make a difference.  The difference may seem so small that it is not visible to the naked eye, but for some child it could be the difference of getting the surgery he/she so desperately needs, getting an education, or just receiving the love/care that he/she deserves.

When I was in China, I woke up in the middle of the night with this song going through my head:

“Sparrow.” By Simon and Garfunkel

Who will love a little sparrow

Who’s traveled far and cries for rest?

“Not I,” said the Oak Tree

“I won’t share my branches with no sparrow’s nest

And my blanket of leaves won’t warm her cold breast”

Who will love a little sparrow

And who will speak a kindly word?

“Not I,” said the Swan

“The entire idea is utterly absurd

I’d be laughed at and scorned if the other swans heard”

Who will take pity in his heart

And who will feed a starving sparrow?

“Not I,” said the Golden Wheat

“I would if I could but I cannot I know

I need all my grain to prosper and grow”

Who will love a little sparrow?

Will no one write her eulogy?

“I will,” said the Earth

“For all I’ve created returns unto me

From dust were ye made and dust ye shall be”

I have always loved that song but when I saw my daughter holding a little girl who was missing a part of her leg and a couple of fingers, the song had a much deeper meaning for me.

I would like to send a special thanks to all the employees of Half the Sky Foundation. Thank you for reminding me how much love every child needs.   –Gloria

Today was the day we’d all been waiting for!  We pulled up to the orphanage with all of the anticipation of a reveal on the television show, Extreme Home Makeover. 

As we pulled up, there were brightly colored flags lining the parking lot, a huge arch of brightly colored balloons in front of the orphanage, and Chinese music playing in the background.  Above the doors was a banner of Chinese characters which read, “Changchun Children’s Welfare Institution and Half the Sky Foundation: Our Partnership Begins Today.”   Top local and provincial officials were there, as well as media. 

We walked into a cleared out lobby, and for the first time realized that you could see the playground from the front doors.  Up until today, the entire room had been filled with boxes of toys and equipment that were now filling the nine Half the Sky rooms. 

We were all proudly wearing our Half the Sky T-shirts that said, “China Work Crew” on the back.  We quickly got all of the kids dressed up in ballerina tutus and Halloween costumes and light green Half the Sky T-shirts that matched ours. 

Kids were walking around in dragon costumes and ladybug costumes, and in princess dresses carrying princess wands.  I will always remember the sweetest little 5-month-old baby dressed up in a Santa suit—he had a huge smile and bright, twinkly eyes. 

As we were getting everyone ready for the party, two camera men from the media were walking around filming us.  I wonder what they were thinking.  That’s certainly not what you would typically see in one of China’s Children’s Welfare Institutions…but thanks to Half the Sky, it soon will be. 

When all of the kids were dressed, we went outside for a group photo in front of the orphanage.  I held a little 5-year-old girl for the picture who was just scrumptious.  She had pigtails and a princess dress, and would have fit in perfectly with my crew at home.  Holding her & kissing her sweet cheeks made me miss my girls that much more. 

After the picture, she walked up three flights of stairs with me, holding my hand.  She sat in my lap in the conference room, as the orphanage director, officials, & Jenny Bowen each gave a touching speech about the partnership between Half the Sky and the Chinese government, and the “very beautiful tomorrow” that would be the result for China’s orphans and disabled children.  Mr. Liu, the orphanage director, then called each of us up individually, thanked us, and presented us each with a beautiful certificate. 

After that, we all went down to the preschool classrooms to celebrate.  It was so sweet to see the children sitting at the little tables and chairs we had painted, eating candy and cookies, then going to the gross motor room and seeing them crawl through tunnels, climb on the play structures, look at themselves in the mirrors, and start to ride the bikes that we had put together a few days earlier.  

We then headed up to the infant nurture rooms, and snuggled with the babies, before they took their naps. 

The first thing I noticed in each room were the long childproof mirrors down on the lower part of the walls, with a bar going across the middle of them—like a miniature ballet bar & mirror.  They are designed for the babies to learn to pull themselves up, and to hold onto as they learn to walk.  All the while, they can see themselves and be entertained.  Half the Sky has those specially built…and they are fabulous.  

I then settled down and built towers with plastic blocks with one little boy, and cheered over and over again as he knocked them down.  He started banging/clapping the blocks together, and I couldn’t help but think of my daughter Kaylee, just over a year old, celebrating her first Easter and banging two plastic Easter eggs together the same way.  

I thought of how much joy my girls have brought to our lives, and I looked around the room and thought of the immense joy these kids have to share.  My hope, of course, is that all of these children will be adopted.  The reality, though, is that many won’t.  It’s so comforting and reassuring to know that they will be loved, nurtured, cherished, educated, and inspired, regardless of whether they go home with a family, or grow up in that institution. 

There are so many layers of thought and planning and love that have gone into these programs…from the bright cheery rooms, to the toys and books and art supplies, to the ongoing training and support for the nannies, teachers, mentors, and foster parents.  What a gift to be here.  Before we left, we all signed one of the walls, and listed where we’re from.  At the top, in English and Chinese, it very fittingly says, “Built with Love and Hope.”   Indeed. – Kim Beagle

Our celebration today at the Changchun CWI was wonderful.  Greeted by an enormous rainbow of balloons over the entrance, we knew we were in for a very special and emotional farewell.  Farewell for us, but not for all the wonderful people we met here.  For the children and all those caring for them, this was not an end, but rather a beginning…a new beginning with Half the Sky. 

The ceremony with the provincial officials was deeply touching as was the party after with our little friends.  We will miss everyone so much but feel grateful to have been here.  I know none of us will ever forget Changchun. – Jeannette Levitt

Although this was our last work day, we were able get all our work done and still have plenty of time to immerse ourselves in the activities of Half the Sky’s training sessions and the children.  Maybe we were super-efficient this week.  Or, far more likely, Mr. Liu (Half the Sky’s multitalented handyman/carpenter/Mr. Fixit) was doing so much work each evening after we left that our task was that much easier. 

Either way, it was wonderful to get extra time to see some of the amazing work going on here. 

Perhaps most notable today was getting to watch Debbie Tong, Half the Sky’s Associate Director, Special Needs, lead a demonstration for a group of foster moms for Changchun’s new Family Village.  Sitting on the floor with a helper by her side, we watched her as she gently encouraged a child with special needs to sit up, to reach out for a treat, and to stand with her help. It was all exhausting work for the little boy who had little strength and muscle tone.  But it was important work. 

That’s the thing about this place…it’s all such important work.  These precious little children deserve this kind of patient and loving attention.  They deserve to have someone looking out for them.  Like all children, they don’t just need a bed, three meals and a safe environment.  They need people to care about them, to engage them and encourage them, to help them explore their world and learn, to tell them they’re special, to love them.  Half the Sky does all this. 

To borrow the words of Arlene’s “tapping chant”… I deeply and completely love Half the Sky.

–Jeannette Levitt

Today was a day defined for me by Janie Moments: three times, I laughed out in complete hilarity, and each time, the cause of that moment of pure joy was Janie.

Janie Moment #1:

We had just finished the first coat of color in the last room left to paint, and we were washing our hands to get ready for lunch. The nearest bathroom had kid-height sinks, and Janie, being fairly tall, bent over to turn the water on and, in the process, took out a bucket that was awkwardly lodged in the sink.

I took the sink to her left and was rubbing soap onto my hands when I heard the Janie Groan – the sound she makes when she’s realized that something unexpected has happened: soapy water was leaking out the bottom of her sink, spreading all over the floor. The bucket had been stuck in the sink because the drain wasn’t connected to any pipes; without the bucket, the water had no place to go but the floor.

While Janie scrambled to find some mops, I was doubled over laughing twice as hard in a moment of déjà vu: almost exactly twenty-four hours before, we had been washing out paint buckets in a bathroom on the third-floor. Janie, being as efficient and sensible as she is, went for the biggest sink so that she could turn on the water full blast, soak the bucket in it and quickly wash out all the paint.

I didn’t know what color paint she was washing until I saw a steady stream of blue water sloshing out the bottom of the sink, which was also not connected to any piping. Janie made her token groan, and we both scrambled to find dirty rags to push the blue puddle down the floor drain. (Janie later told me that, before we found the drain, she was devastated because she could just envision the blue water seeping through the second-floor ceiling and dripping onto sleeping babies’ heads.)

But back to the present, after I had stopped laughing, I started to say something – but Janie saw my mouth open and immediately cut me off.

“Don’t even, Patrick – don’t say a word,” she said. “I know my kids will read that blog…”  The look on Janie’s face as she contemplated her three kids and husband reading about her painting exploits was one of slight horror and complete embarrassment.

Janie has now learned never to trust Chinese sinks – as she seems to have a knack for finding the dysfunctional ones and nevertheless pouring large amounts of liquid into them, only to discover that it all ends up on the floor.

Janie Moment #2:

All of the latex painting team – Lea, Patti, Janie and I – were scrambling at the end of the day to finish up the last room so that it would be ready for the party on Sunday. Lea was taking tape off the walls while Patti and I were painting on the last band of blue.

Janie decided to take on the task of doing touch-ups with the green paint, and she planted herself in a corner to re-paint the edge of a wall. The room was silent – everyone was concentrating on getting their respective tasks completed – when, all of a sudden, a Janie Groan broke the calm: she had just realized that the corner she was working on still had masking tape on it, which meant the past ten or so minutes of her meticulous work was for nothing. After a few more groans, she tore the tape off the wall and started over, while Patti and I tried our best to focus on the blue band and refrain from giggling.

Janie Moment #3:

We were on the way back to the hotel, and Janie and Lea were playing a game of concentration – “no repeats, no hesitations” – and the topic was countries. The object of the game is to recite the name of a country in a steady rhythm, alternating between the two players. If you hesitate, then you’re out.

They had been going for a while, and finally reached the Stans.

“Tajikistan,” said Lea.

Clap, clap.

“Uzbekistan,” replied Janie. 

Clap, clap.

“Kyrgyzstan,” Lea countered.

Clap, clap…

There was a tense millisecond where it seemed like Janie might miss a beat – but then she came up with a response: “Arubistan!”

The bus fell silent as we contemplated whether Arubistan actually existed or not…and then we broke down in laughter.

Thank you, Janie, for making my day. Without you, I’m not sure I would have made it through staring at green walls and smelling latex paint for six hours.

Of course, the day was more than just Janie Moments.

We had a chance to shadow Debbie Tong’s training session for working with physically disabled children.

When we stopped by, Debbie was working one-on-one with a boy who has cerebral palsy.  After witnessing almost half an hour of therapy, I was moved by how brave the boy was: he was stuck in a room full of almost thirty adult strangers, all peering at him expectantly while taking furious notes. Despite being in a fishbowl, he paid the most attention to Debbie, who was enticing him with chocolate, a lollipop, and eventually a play ball to sit up straight on his own, and then to stand up straight on his own – a mighty task for the boy to handle.

But what I saw behind Debbie’s intensity of focus and effort was a persistent faith that the child could, mostly on his own, sit and stand up. She would often slap away the encroaching hands of other assistants or institution staff when they got too close or were just trying to stand the boy up themselves, because she knew that, in the long run, just doing things for the kids wouldn’t help them at all.

And the payoff was worth it: the boy was able to stand up, for an instant, on his own, and he got to happily munch on some chocolate for his effort. That moment of success, though fleeting, elicited cheers and hearty applause from the audience of Half the Sky staff and volunteers; I could feel a collective sigh of relief and excitement that, in a very small way, we had made progress today.

Living in Changchun for the past week, I’ve been overwhelmed by the bombastic signs of progress flaunted along every street. Huge tractors and diggers line every corner at construction site after construction site, and advertisements for new apartment buildings – some with Donald Trump’s face on them – cover massive billboards that span the traffic-congested roads. Everywhere I look, there’s something that reminds me of Changchun’s growing eminence, but for some reason, I haven’t been impressed.

Spending five minutes watching Debbie work, though, impressed me to an extent that shiny posters and tall buildings could never do. It’s because I know that, even if the boy hadn’t been able to sit or stand on his own, it wouldn’t have been a failed training demonstration from Debbie’s perspective. What she showed everyone in that room for half an hour was what foster parents will have to undertake every day, to make and build on small steps of progress. There usually won’t be a big payoff or cause for celebration. Instead, it’s the bite-sized and ephemeral signs of improvement that are the most inspiring, because nurturing another human being is a lifelong pursuit that draws on patience, love and undying faith. The fact that Half the Sky’s foster mothers take on four, even five children with special needs is astounding. That’s a demonstration of the human capacity for love that no one – especially not a corporation or international multibillionaire – can surpass. 

The day ended with a fantastic banquet put on by the institution staff for Half the Sky administrators, employees and volunteers. The food, as always, was superb, but what made the night was the flurry of karaoke performances that overtook the end of the celebratory dinner.

Perhaps the most memorable was the exchange between the orphanage’s director and vice-director: the director would start singing in his loud, booming voice, and then gesture politely toward the vice-director to sing the next verse. She would oblige, but only for one line, after which she would whisper to the director to sing with her – the only problem being that both had microphones, which meant the entire room heard their exchanges. This back and forth continued for a while, until the song lyrics stopped showing up on the TV screen. The room awkwardly launched into tepid, tentative applause, when all of a sudden, the vice-director burst out in music and finished out the song. (The moment, I’m sure, would have been ten times funnier had it been Janie singing and, hopefully, spontaneously executing another priceless Janie Moment.) – Patrick Lee

Thirty-two bicycles with training wheels, wagons, tike-bikes, rocking horses, & push-walkers are all assembled and ready for kids.  Nine rooms, 52 tables, and 104 chairs are all painted, each with two-three coats of paint.  Eleven volunteers, with paint-stained clothes and very full hearts, are feeling incredibly blessed to have been part of this experience. 

Surprisingly, we finished painting and assembling everything today, slightly ahead of schedule.  (I’m quite confident that’s the first time in my life that I’ve ever finished something early!!)  Now that we are done with our part, the preschool teachers are able to start moving bookcases and toys, and set up their classrooms this afternoon.  We wanted to help them at least move things into the rooms, but it’s very important to Wen, the preschool director, to have the teachers clean the rooms and set them up, so they can take ownership of them. They will spend today and tomorrow getting the rooms set up, and we’ll have our big party/grand opening on Sunday. 

While the teachers were moving bookcases, a few of us went upstairs to sit in on some more of Debbie Tong’s foster mom training.  Debbie is the Associate Director of Special Needs for Half the Sky & a pediatric physical therapist at Stanford’s Children’s Hospital. 

We learned yesterday that children with physical disabilities are eligible for adoption, but those with cognitive impairment are considered “unadoptable” by the Chinese government.  Half the Sky is now moving those kids out of the orphanages, and into apartments in their Family Villages Program, which is yet another remarkable program.   They will become part of a family with a mom, dad, and siblings. They will live in apartments in a building adjacent to the orphanage, or sometimes in apartments on the top floor of the orphanage, in order to support each other.  Each family will have four (yes, FOUR!) children with specials needs whom they have committed to raising for life.  Incredible.  It must be a married couple who has already raised a child, and one parent must be gainfully employed.  

When we left the room, one new foster mom came out and gestured that she wanted to have her picture taken with us.  She told us, in Chinese, that we have good hearts and tapped her chest.  Gloria, who can speak Mandarin, said, “No, you all are the ones with the good hearts.”  Her response was so humble—“No, not me.  I’m just retired.”  (Many of the nannies and foster moms are women who love kids and have reached the forced retirement age of 45 or 50…and obviously still have lots of love to share.)  

I think about these incredible women and men – who are about to take on four children with special needs (often who all have different disabilities — one with cerebral palsy, one with Down syndrome, one blind child, and one with another disability, for instance) and commit to raising them for a lifetime.   It’s astounding. 

The stories we hear each day are incredible—Carol needs to write a book, for sure.  She shared one of her favorite stories, about a time in Nanning where she was fortunate to be there the day they were forming the foster families.  The way she described it reminded me very much of our adoption trips.  Six couples were sitting in a room, anxiously holding hands, and waiting for the kids to come in.  All of a sudden a line of four children march in (all holding on to the shirt in front of them, as we’ve seen here in the orphanage) and are taken over to meet their new parents.  In a matter of minutes, the room is completely wonderfully chaotic – 24 new sons and daughters, and 6 new sets of proud parents. 

According to Carol, it’s the fathers who are the most emotional of all.  She particularly remembers one new dad in Nanning, who came over to her, bowing and thanking her, and grasping both of her hands.  He was crying, she was crying, I think the entire room was crying.  As he bowed and shook her hands, he was saying in Chinese, “Thank you…Thank you so much…Thank you for filling the hole in my heart,” and Carol, crying, was thanking him just as profusely and telling him that he is her hero…that all of these parents are her heroes.  He then came over with his arms around all four of his children, and said, very proudly, “I’d like to introduce you to my family.”   

What an incredible, wonderful, emotional day—as they’ve all been.   We’re so blessed to be here. – Kim Beagle

We had a painting deadline. Little Sisters preschool director Wen Zhao sweetly, but firmly inquired if, within 24 hours, we could turn over the first floor rooms to be painted in the official HTS palette — eggshell blue, Crayola Lavender, Easter Green and Trix Yellow — to the teachers of HTS’s Little Sisters Preschool Program.

With as much confidence as we could muster, we assured her by saying, “Consider it done.” Only when we transferred the rooms to them, could the teachers begin the important process of cleaning, stocking the shelves with toys and arranging the freshly painted tables and chairs.

Mindful of our promise to Wen, for four minutes, maybe three, we diligently focused on the task. Our laser-like focus was broken by an achingly sweet sight: toddlers arranged in a conga line, each with one small hand grasping the shirt of the toddler in front, were taking a lap around the track just outside of our window. Without hesitation, out of the (first floor!) window jumped Patrick, then Lea, then me. Angling for an invitation to join the dance, we walked alongside the toddlers, extending our open hands down to them. Three tiny hands met ours and we clasped them.

There are fewer sweeter moments than holding the small hand of a child. A contract is made between you and child. With the extension of her little hand, the child extends her trust in you. Once you feel the warmth of her little hand, you know that you will do everything to properly guide her and anything to protect her.

After a lap around the track, it was nap time. Only Lea could fit in the tiny beds, so we relinquished the beds back to the toddlers and resumed painting with greater intensity happily knowing exactly which small hands would be the beneficiaries of our labor.  –Patricia Lee-Hoffmann

I can hardly believe that we have finished our 4th day. It feels like we have just begun.

We are starting to recognize the children and the children are starting to recognize us. Suddenly these children are no longer just pictures on a website or in a magazine. We can hear their laughter and we can feel their tears. I haven’t been to many Welfare Institutes in China but I feel this has to be one of the best. The nannies and the staff are loving and kind. You can see it in their eyes how much they truly care for the children.

Today we were asked to join the toddlers on a walk. The weather was warm, around 70 degrees. The flowers are just starting to bloom. Most of the children just love to hold our hands and show us the flowers. They giggle and laugh and want to talk with us. Because the children have grown accustomed to seeing us, they throw us kisses when we leave them. They have so much love to give. The funny thing is that they don’t ask for much in return. They just want to be loved. Don’t we all?

Tonight my daughter and I just held each other and the tears started to flow. –Gloria Kowalski

Another amazing day for the build. Since I’m too wiped out to write in full sentences, I’ll just give some quick highlights:

- finished sanding & painting half the chairs… the green ones had lots of drips so were especially hard. We won’t say who worked on those.

- saw lots of kids ranging from babies to older children 8 yrs. and up. We watched in awe as nannies & teachers in training and future HTS foster parents interacted with the kids… so much affection and joy between them. Awesome.

- dinner at a Korean restaurant and making it back from dinner without getting run over. Pedestrians definitely do not have the right-of-way around here.

Tomorrow will likely be our last big work day…. better get some zzzz’s. –Jeannette Leavitt

“Sense of self worth“ — those words clicked in my mind. I’d been grappling for the past 4 days for words to articulate the miracles that unfold everyday here in the Changchun orphanage for the all the children under the broad umbrella of Half the Sky.

After observing the training, the nannies, caregivers, youth mentors, and the incredible teachers, interacting with each other and the babies and children, it was impossible not to feel deeply moved. Half the Sky is making certain that each baby and child develops a sense of self worth and belonging. This is a miraculous gift.

A sense of self worth is something these children will carry with them for a lifetime, no matter where they go, to a loving family, or to receive continued support and nurture by Half the Sky.

One exercise I observed in nanny training stood out: teaching preschool-aged children to learn to make choices for themselves. It never occurred to me that institutionalized children rarely learn this. (The training program in and of itself is a work of intellect, experience, love and enthusiastic devotion).

I talk to my children at home by phone and each day they ask the same two questions: “Why would someone give up their baby?” and “Are all the babies in the orphanage being adopted?”

I have learned the answer to the first question is very complex. It may often be due to lack of education, social and cultural pressures that we can’t intuitively grasp. The answer to the second question is never a yes or no. I look at these children and think of the joy they would bring to so many families. I tell my children that many will be lucky and end up in loving homes. However, those that remain with Half the Sky will always be given love, nurture and opportunities to explore their dreams. It makes my children happy to hear this for they too, are concerned for these orphaned children. –Janie MacArthur

With a little less cloud cover and a lot more sun, the weather was surprisingly pleasant in Changchun today.

I helped finish the first-floor rooms and started moving painting supplies to the third floor. Janie, Lea and Patti came up to start prepping the rooms, too, and we were about to go find some more lavender paint when, halfway down the hallway, we saw a single file line of women in lavender polo shirts waiting outside two of the infant rooms. As we approached, we realized they were waiting to get one of the babies and take them back to a training session for nannies – the lavender shirts had the Half the Sky logo on the back – and then, out of instinct or maybe sheer excitement, Patti yelled out, “Follow the babies!” Which is exactly what we did.

Down one hallway, then another, and up a set of stairs we finally found the Holy Grail: the room with all the babies. After we crossed the threshold, there seemed to be a different kind of gravity in play, because each of us was drawn immediately and automatically to a baby, and within sixty seconds, we were making goo-goo sounds, singing “The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round,” grasping tiny hands and probably drooling over the babies more than the babies themselves.

Jeronia was leading the session for the Infant Nurture program, and she had two nannies paired together to work with the same infant throughout the entire training. Every day, each nanny would alternate between interacting with the baby and observing, but today, we couldn’t resist the chance to be a part of the moment.

I can honestly say I have never seen pudgier cheeks on anyone than one of the baby girls I had the chance to help walk around the room.

But the first child I got to hold was a seven-month-old boy, whose tiny fingers wouldn’t let go of my pinky and who kept on turning his head to look at all the new faces peering down at him. The sensation of holding a baby is extraordinary and remarkable: he exudes warmth and happiness just by blinking his eyelids and taking small breaths, all the while looking up at you and making you want to hold him even closer. Your world immediately zeroes in to include only you and the baby, and in this world, all you want is for the baby to be safe and to never leave. You feel a deep connection, not because you know the baby, but because, in the moment, there is nothing else you would rather be doing, and for that instant, you are both invincible and utterly, purely at peace. –Patrick Lee

Today was a beautiful day outside—the sun was shining, it was much warmer, and the cherry trees are just starting to bloom.  Many groups of kids came outside to take advantage of the beautiful weather.  Some went on walks, and some experimented with paint with the new preschool teachers.  The foster mothers also came outside to learn new songs and how to play games they can eventually play with their kids, like Duck Duck Goose and Drop the Handkerchief.  It was fun to listen to the adults’ squeals and laughter, and see the kids’ smiles, as we sat painting our chairs.

I had the privilege of going on a walk with my favorite group of kids, the 3-6 year olds.  It’s about the cutest thing you can imagine. Whenever they walk anywhere as a group, it looks like a conga line of preschoolers. They always walk in a line with each child hanging on to bottom of the shirt in front of them. They walked by us as we were painting the chairs out front, and invited us to go along.  Who can turn down an invitation like that???

We did the equivalent of “walking around the block” – we walked the paved road circling the orphanage.  The cherry trees are just starting to bloom, and some of the kids got so excited pointing to show us the flowers.  They held on to each others’ shirts the entire time, unless they dropped a shirt to hold one of our hands.  It was SO sweet when they reached up to grab your hand…and then never let go.

I could have walked around the building with them a zillion times today, but they had to go inside for their naps.  We walked with them all the way back inside until they loaded on the elevator to go upstairs.  Imagine an elevator filled with 15 or 20 preschoolers, many of them waving and smiling at you, some saying “Bye Bye” (in English) and “Zai Jian” (in Chinese), and a few even blowing kisses back at us.  Talk about melting your heart!   I feel like there are certain “snapshots” that are permanently etched in my mind from this trip—the kisses on the elevator is one of them, for sure.  – Kim Beagle

Each day we eat, we laugh, we work, we sleep.   Each of us has a different story about how we arrived here, but all of us share the same the goal – the children.  It is that common goal that unites us.

Right now I feel like I have writers block.  I want to share my feelings, my experiences but there are so many different feelings and experiences that I don’t know where to begin or end.  I feel sadness because I wish all the children had loving families, I feel sadness for the families that had to give up their child.   I feel happiness because I see so many loving people wanting to care for the children.   I feel overwhelmed every time I step onto the bus because of the organized chaos on the roads, I feel tired after a long day’s work.  I feel a certain peace inside because I see tiny miracles happen each day thanks to Half the Sky Foundation. The one thing I haven’t felt is hungry thanks to Rachel Xing, Half the Sky’s Program Operations director, who makes sure we’re all well fed! –Gloria Kowalski

Today I painted some of the walls in the rooms. I was glad I wore clothes I didn’t mind getting dirty because I got just as much paint on them as I did the walls! Even so, it was quite fun.  I am really enjoying the build and I have made some good friends with other people in the group. Although I have been having fun and making friends, I always feel sad when I see all the children in the orphanage because they don’t have any mothers and fathers. It makes me feel extremely fortunate that I was adopted into a very loving family.  I hope that someday all the children will have someone to love and take good care of them.  –Lea Kowalski, 10

Last June, I decided to grow my hair out. With exactly half of my college years already accounted for, I figured that time was running out before I could “experiment” with new looks without any consequences. This was a great idea until two days ago when a few stubborn strands of my hair decided to plant themselves on the surface of the table I was covering with enamel paint – bright pink paint, to be exact. Since then, after repeated attempts in the shower to wash out my new, unintended highlights, I’ve moved on from painting tables with enamel paint to painting walls with latex paint, which washes out with water.

Today, we finished adding second coats of paint in three of the Half the Sky rooms inside the orphanage, and while I was working on the third floor, something out the window caught my eye. I peered down to the courtyard, and, for the first time since we started working, I saw kids actually playing on the playground outside.

There were three kids in wheelchairs and twelve others sitting on benches, playing tag, going down the slides and swinging. The playground itself is new: the ground is covered with interlocking, red and yellow squares of firm but foamy material. The plastic structures match the exterior colors of the orphanage – bright red, blue, yellow and orange – and, among other things, there are three castle-like turrets, three lime green palm trees, a rope bridge and a mini merry-go-round.

These kids live in a surreal situation: they call home a colorful, modern, three-story building that has a playground with castle turrets and palm trees and that guarantees them three meals a day, while a few hundred feet from the institution, you can see slum-like shacks that other people presumably live in.

But that’s not the entire story. So far, institutions have focused on providing the simple, basic things: letting kids play outside, or making sure they eat well and stay clean and healthy. For the basics, you need lots and lots of caregivers – people who are committed to doing the nitty-gritty work required to take care of over a hundred fifty children. That’s what the institution staff has been trained at and is superb at, but Half the Sky comes into play to supplement the care and provide nurturing, educational and mentoring programs to round out what the orphanages can do by only focusing on the basics of care.

As I watched the kids play with one another, the song on the iPod we were listening to while painting switched to “Midnight Train to Georgia,” a classic Gladys Knight and the Pips tune that I hadn’t heard in a long time. I caught a few of the lyrics – “going back to a simpler place in time” – which for me at least captured the moment I had witnessed outside. There’s nothing new fangled or high-tech about what Half the Sky or any of the institutions are doing; it’s a simple attempt to go back to the basics, and understand what it takes to love and nurture a child who hasn’t had that experience before. –Patrick Lee

“Many hands make light work”…isn’t that how the saying goes?   We had a productive today….we sanded and put a second coat of paint on the 52 tables; finished taping off the 9 Half the Sky rooms; started painting the walls lavender, light blue, light green and yellow; and assembled the majority of the toys donated by Radio Flyer (small bicycles with training wheels, wagons, walkers, tike bikes, and rocking horses).

I’ll never be able to walk through Toys R Us again without thinking of Carol’s touching story about Paul Pasin of Radio Flyer, who started donating the bikes, wagons, etc. because he was so moved by Half the Sky’s build in Guangzhou, and without thinking of the seven of us working in the lobby of the orphanage, in what felt like a huge Christmas Eve factory.

In between the painting and assembling, we went outside to the playground area with the older kids (ages 8-18) for a treasure hunt, which had all the excitement of a huge Easter Egg Hunt back home.  Most of the kids had special needs, and many were in wheelchairs.  They had just constructed treasure boxes and treasure bags with their new Mentors, using glue, pom-poms, and other craft materials (a project my girls would have loved to help with!).  There were SO many kids smiling and laughing.  One came up and wanted to shake each of our hands, and proudly opened his shoe box to show us all of the treasures he had collected.  I think I will remember his smile forever.

In the midst of our painting, I walked by one room where the children were eating around a little table. They were probably about 2 years old, and they all had little bowls of beef and rice—the same as we had had for lunch that day—and sippy cups that looked like cute little frogs.  They were all dressed in red-checked smocks made of raincoat material, as if they were about to paint in a kindergarten class.   It was heartwarming to see.

I thought of my little Maddie, who at 13 months was still getting no solid food – just formula with rice cereal mixed in—and most likely, from the flat spot on her head, had had her bottle propped up in her crib.  The director’s words echoed strongly in my head…“A More Beautiful Tomorrow” indeed. – Kim Beagle

I think we might have worked less today than yesterday.  I’m not complaining, mind you.  It was a fabulous day!  Despite the short hours, we painted 50 chairs, and they even looked pretty good….as long as you don’t get too close.  Thankfully, we kept telling ourselves, it was just a first coat!

In between the painting sessions we were able to get a wonderful look at some of the new HTS teachers working hands on with the children, led by Wen Zhao, Director of the Little Sisters Program. We were also lucky to have Jeronia Muntaner, Director of the Infant Nurture Program, join us during a short break in her training, so we had an impromptu - though very informative - Q & A with her.  It was clear from meeting Wen and Jeronia - and all the HTS staff we’ve met - why HTS has accomplished so much. The passion and talent we’ve been surrounded by is incredible.

At the end of our day, we lucked out with a quicker and more scenic bus ride back to the Shangri-la Hotel, followed by another delicious dinner.  This time it was at the Hot Pot, not to be confused with Hop Pot, as one of their signs said. –Jeannette Leavitt

For the past two days, we’ve passed “The Great Jilin Medicine Store” on our way to the orphanage – it’s a dilapidated, blue building with gritty windows, but if you squint, you can make out the shape of shelf after shelf lined up inside the store, each one stocked with various medicines, creams and concoctions. Our crew will never have to patronize the medicine store: we have Arlene as our healer.

On the bus ride to the institution this morning, she introduced us to the ritual of tapping, during which you tap specific parts of your body in a specific order while chanting a few lines about where your pain is. The tapping routine starts at the top of your chest (granted, most of the crew members are female, so Arlene made it easy by shouting over traffic, “Everyone, just start at the top of your boobs!”). Then, move on to the side of your boobs, below your boobs, your wrists, all over your head, between your eyebrows, the side of your eyes, below your eyes, your upper lip, lower lip, collar bone and then repeat, three times. After the last head-patting, wave your hand down the back of your head, and then re-diagnose your pain. If all has gone well, it will have gone away.

The problem is that we were tapping while driving through very public intersections on a bus with very big windows; you could see pedestrians on the street trying to decipher what exactly the crazy tourists could possibly be doing on the bus. Better yet, our driver turned around at exactly the moment that we got to the boob-tapping segment of our healing routine, and the expression of pure surprise, confusion and embarrassment that overtook his face was translated into a slight jerk of the bus as he regained his composure. He faced forward the rest of the commute.

At the institution, we got started painting 100 kid-size chairs, which is a lot harder than the tables we had tackled the day before. The chairs seemed to have infinitely many nooks and crannies that made painting them a complicated ordeal – or, the peculiar fumes of the paint might have been compromising our fine motor skills. Either way, it soon became clear that there were two schools of painting represented in our crew: dumping and skipping.

The dumping school – represented first and foremost by Janie – espouses the belief that using as much paint as possible to cover any surface in a two-foot radius of the target object is the best method. For Janie, this meant painting the cardboard boxes covering the pavement was just as important as painting the chair itself, as well as her clothes, shoes, and sometimes even her face. The upside? Dumpers never miss a spot. The downside? They go through paint really fast, and often leave puddles of paint behind them as they walk around.

The skipping school – championed by Patti – takes a much more sustainable route: the goal is to use as little paint as possible. After all, resources are limited, and in this economy, we can all afford to cut back a little and save on expenses. The problem is that skippers often neglect to paint large chunks of the target object, which they only notice after gentle, rhetorical questions are asked of them.

Said Faye (in the sweetest, most polite voice possible): “Hey Patti, I was just wondering, are you done painting that chair yet?” She was pointing to one that Patti had “finished” a few minutes ago.

“Oh,” Patti replied, only then noticing the entire side of a leg she had forgotten to paint. “I guess not.”

A few feet away, Janie was chuckling about Faye’s exchange with Patti while painting on her part of the tarp; you could tell that she had been there awhile because the puddle of paint around her had nearly spread to the edges of the cardboard.

Meanwhile, Mr. Liu, our resident all-purpose builder and problem-solver, was looking on with a bemused look on his face, and when we all went inside for lunch, he breathed a sigh of relief, picked up a brush, and happily started fixing our mistakes.

After eating a hearty meal of pork dumplings prepared specially for us by the cafeteria staff, we had the chance to observe some of the preschool teachers’ training sessions with the kids. For three weeks, the soon-to-be teachers have the chance to work one-on-one with the same child, establishing a relationship and building a sense of trust and familiarity.  The goal  is for the trainees to learn how to play with the kids and encourage them to reach out and try things, explore and investigate their environment.

What this translates into in reality, though, is chaos – utter, inspiring, heartwarming and excited chaos. Kids and teachers together were making messes by pouring glue onto newspapers, drawing stick figures with markers, playing with toy trucks, throwing huge Lego pieces around, pouring water into cups, spilling water on the floor, crumbling newspapers up into balls and throwing them around, chasing each other in an improvised game of tag…it would be any parent’s nightmare.

But in this case, it was perfect: even on this first day of training, the kids were already communicating with their teachers, wanting to try new things, taking the initiative in finding a new toy or a new way to draw and trying it out for themselves.

The teachers, for their part, were supporting the children, not by telling them what to do, but by doing the activities with them – getting glue all over their hands, spilling water on their clothes – and letting the kids make mistakes. There was no right and wrong – instead, it was a mutual exchange of ideas, thoughts, excitement and joy between the teachers and children, something I thought I would never see inside an institution that is often stereotyped as a sterile, unfriendly place where order is kept for the sake of safety and efficiency.

Everyone in the playroom was so engaged that no one even looked up when a group of ten adults barged in, though one of the kids did eventually notice Arlene’s water bottle. He went up to her, pointed at the bottle and, after she gave it to him, promptly unscrewed the cap and started gulping it down. His teacher didn’t stop him – she merely exchanged smiles with Arlene. When the boy finished drinking, his teacher gestured to Arlene and asked him what he should do in return. He looked Arlene straight in the eyes, clasped his hands together and shook them up and down, in a gesture of thanks that required no words. – Patrick Lee

We sat outside this morning to paint 104 tiny wooden chairs lavender, yellow, light green, and light blue.  It was one of those gray, misty, bitter cold days, but we were having a great time anyway.  The paint is enamel, so painting inside is out of the question – for the kids’ sake, as well as ours.  I had on four layers of clothes, including two layers of fleece, and I was REALLY wishing I had brought that hat I wore on the Great Wall in the middle of the winter when we adopted Kaylee.  Those goosebumps paled in comparison to the goosebumps I would get inside today, however.

What Half the Sky does is remarkable.  There’s no way you can come here and see what they’re doing, and not be forever changed—and inspired to go home and do more. As thoroughly as I tried to read through all the layers of their website, I only knew a speck of what they did.  I spent the entire day with goosebumps—outside when I was freezing, and inside as I watched the preschool teachers working with the children today.  Wen, the preschool director, and Jeronia, the infant nurture director, were incredibly generous with their time, explaining the details of what they’re doing & answering our questions.  I had many.

They are bringing seven preschool teachers into this orphanage—all seven teachers have a university degree in education or child development, a Half the Sky requirement.  Even though they are recent graduates, they were trained in a very traditional Chinese way of teaching–teacher in front of the class all day, kids in rows, kids silent, with no interaction.  Now these teachers are having an intensive (and fun) three week training to learn how to follow the child’s lead, give the child choices, and let the child explore and discover–versus being shown how to do it or having it done for them.

It was so neat to watch today, as the children discovered how to play with play dough for the first time.  They were all sitting on the floor, each child with a teacher beside them encouraging them as they rolled it out, mashed it down, cut it, and stamped it with tools.

Preschool in China is for children ages 2-7.  The preschool classrooms at this orphanage will have a 1 to 5 ratio (ages 2-3 are 1:4, ages 4-5 are 1:5, ages 6-7 are 1:6).  At age 8, they enter community school.

It used to be that 95% of the children from the institution would be returned back to the orphanage.  The schools said they couldn’t keep up and couldn’t learn, and they would return to sit in an orphanage all day long.  Now, at Half the Sky centers, that no longer happens.  And not only that, but those kids are consistently at the top of their class in community school and Half the Sky also supports orphaned children who get into colleges and vocational schools.

What an incredible day.  It was about SO much more than painting the chairs and the walls.  Many of my friends were convinced that I would come home ready to adopt a fourth child.  It’s so much bigger than that.  All I can think about is how I can volunteer, and be involved, and help spread all of the wonderful things that this organization is doing…  –Kim Beagle

Right now in China, a volunteer work crew is helping us open our 12th Blue Sky Model Center in Changchun, Jilin Province. Check here to follow their progress during the build:

Getting to Changchun

I’m sitting in a bus, the fourth row from the front, stuck in impenetrable Changchun rush hour traffic. We’re on our way to dinner at the Cultural Revolution restaurant, where all the waiters are dressed up in the authentic garb of “Communist comrades” and where they shout at one another and the guests – a fusion of Hooters and Hard Rock Café, I’d imagine. After the first half hour or so of bumper-to-bumper traffic, I wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and succumb to jetlag.

But then I thought about what I’d be doing right this instant if I weren’t in China on a Half the Sky build: I just finished my junior year in college, and so I’d probably still be on campus, slowly packing my dorm room up into boxes and waking up around noon to scavenge around for a late breakfast and relish the last few, dull but stress-free days of school before summer started.

My flight left a few hours behind schedule, but by that point, the all-nighter I had pulled to move out of my dorm room kicked in and I slept through the entire thirteen hour flight to Beijing, strategically waking up only for the two meals doled out by frazzled but friendly Air China flight attendants. After I got my luggage, I power-walked to the taxi stand – all I wanted to do was find a flat surface and fall asleep – and, excited to use the basic Mandarin I had learned since last fall, I asked the cab driver to take me to the hotel where all the Half the Sky build volunteers would be meeting in a few days.

Fortunately for me, he understood my mangled beginner’s Mandarin and we made it to the hotel, but not without passing several McDonald’s and Starbucks cafes on the way. Everything still seemed very surreal – a feeling I now realize will most likely be a common theme for me this entire trip – as it hadn’t yet sunk in that I was in China. All I knew was that I had signed up to help do construction work at an orphanage, and that I was the only carrier of a Y chromosome in this summer’s crew. But over the next two days, as I gradually kept on meeting fellow volunteers as they trickled in from the airport, I gained a better sense of what I had committed to being a part of for the next ten days.

Everyone – from the adoptive parents to members of the San Francisco Chinatown Rotary Club to 10-year-old Leah – hit it off from the start, if only because we shared an unbounded, even naive, excitement for working at an orphanage in China, an opportunity Westerners are almost never granted. This would be a chance to meet new people, share stories, memories and jokes, try unusual food dishes and even learn the ancient art of qigong. After our first group dinner, I relaxed a bit more and knew that everything would be okay, if only because we were all here for the same reason – helping the kids at the orphanages – and I promised myself I wouldn’t lose sight of that goal.

On Sunday, we flew to Changchun without a problem – although there was a close call when Janie forgot she had sharp, metallic tools (for constructing tables and bikes at the institution) in one of her carry-on items. After being wanded overzealously by an airport security agent (think of a gruff TSA agent, but ten times more civil and not as grouchy), Janie headed back out of security to check the tools through to Changchun. After security, I made a detour in a convenience shop to buy snacks and was about to invest in a bright-red box of preserved duck tongue – but then I heard the boarding announcement for the flight and ran back to the waiting area to grab my luggage.

Given how much luggage our group had (we were over the weight restrictions imposed by the airline), it was lucky that we had Arlene with us, a qigong master who has thighs of steel and is particularly adept at loading large piece of luggage into buses. The one hour ride into Changchun from the airport was surprising: everything was very industrial and loud, with construction projects lining both sides of the main road and a never-ending stream of pedestrians crossing multi-lane roads with high-speed traffic coming at them from both directions. We passed several banks on every block we drove, and had some fun reading the Chinglish advertisements – “Talenty Excellent Education” for a local school, or “Humanized Living Space” for an up-and-coming apartment complex. But again, it was the huge scale of everything – new buildings going up, old ones coming down– and all the ongoing construction that made the city seem like a gloomy, industrial wasteland. I just couldn’t imagine what the orphanage would look like or in what shape the kids would be in, if the city of Changchun itself was going through such tumultuous change. –Patrick Lee

Eager to try all the wonders of China, I jumped feet first — literally — into a massage at a Changchun spa. In one continuous motion, flaming rags soaked with alcohol were inserted into and removed from bamboo and glass cups, then quickly vacuum-sealed to my knees and the bottoms of my feet.

This bruising experience was slightly alarming, until I researched the benefits of ancient Chinese cupping therapy. Cupping is beneficial for high blood pressure, anxiety, fatigue, chronic headache, fibromyalgia, neuralgia and cellulite. I am happy to report I am now symptom-free, just as I was before my foot massage. –Patricia Lee-Hoffmann

First day at the Changchun Children’s Welfare Institution

Today was the first day of our build. I have wanted to participate for many years, but I wanted to share this with my daughter when she was old enough. Today, I got to experience this with my 10-year-old daughter and it brought me back in time. It brought me to a place I promised myself I would never forget. I can see a great deal of progress from 9 ½ years ago when I was in China holding my baby girl for the first time, but I know in my heart that the road ahead is very long. I see now that the build is more than just physical labor. The build is to remind us of all the children who have been left behind. Today the build reminded me that it could have easily have been my daughter who was left behind. –Gloria Kowalski

Wow! What an amazing first day at the CWI. The facility and staff were outstanding…never imagined it would be such a warm and loving environment. In many ways I thought it would break my heart to be there, but really it warmed my heart. Can’t wait to get back to work tomorrow. –Jeannette Levitt

At 9 am, we arrived at the institution. From the outside, it was different from the rest of Changchun as you could imagine: the walls were bright, cheerful colors of green, red, yellow and blue; I felt like I would find a Chuck E. Cheese’s inside with flashing lights, Skee-ball machines and cotton candy flowing from the sky. For all of us, it was a moment of reckoning – our first encounter with the place where we would be working and the orphans we wanted to help – but all I could think about was how out-of-place the building seemed.

The building was designed in a U shape, with a large outdoor courtyard in the middle for the children’s playground. A newly paved road circled the institution, and a shiny black fence separated the orphanage from the ramshackle, one-story wooden housing structures less than a hundred meters away. Our tour of the facilities on the inside only confirmed that this two-year old, model institution was all that it seemed from the outside: it had integrated medical care facilities, separate rooms for children of different age groups and with different disabilities, hallways lined with play areas, arts and crafts rooms and music studios, and a modern cafeteria that served food better than what I get at college. But what made the day so special was the chance to hold some of the babies and play with the toddlers – mostly male and mostly disabled, some with cerebral palsy, spina bifida, Down’s syndrome, encephalitis – and have them reach out to us, smile and laugh.

The kids seemed well-fed and clean, and they all had beautifully decorated and well-stocked rooms to sleep and play in, with dedicated nannies taking care of them around the clock. As far as I could tell, this was the five-star equivalent of orphanages, and we were all awestruck by how much already existed and excited for what we could do to make it even better. As volunteers, we would be focusing on building the hardware – we ended the day after sanding and painting fifty-two child-size tables – but we also had the chance to see the software come alive: our first day was also the first day of Half the Sky training sessions for the nannies, preschool teachers, mentors and other staffers who would be helping nurture the children at the institution for years to come.

It feels good to get our hands dirty and get some real work done, but only because we know our small efforts – immeasurably small compared to the task facing the institution’s caretakers – are a part of a much larger, more comprehensive vision managed by Half the Sky. We know that what we’re doing is part of a grander plan geared toward making a lasting, positive impact on the lives of current and future orphans, ones who otherwise would miss out on a future they have every right to make the most of. –Patrick Lee

Today was amazing, and completely different from everything I was anticipating.  I expected the orphanage to be very run down, partly because I assumed that’s why this location was chosen, and partly because of the extreme poverty that we witnessed on the way here.  I was completely unprepared for the model facility we were about to walk into.  Without a doubt, the best part of the day was holding, hugging, and playing with all of the children—and seeing them smile.  But I was also deeply impacted by something the director said to us.  “Thank you for helping the children have much happiness and a more beautiful tomorrow.”

“A More Beautiful Tomorrow”—that’s why we’re all here.  That’s why we came half way around the world, some of us with no direct connection to China.  When I look at this remarkable model facility…and the 130 nannies, preschool teachers, and mentors that are currently being trained in the conference room…and think of them bringing in staff from every orphanage in this province in the future, and training the nannies how to nurture and bond and help children discover and learn…and you think about Half the Sky doing this in every single province in China, so that every orphanage is touched…it’s almost unimaginable.  China’s orphans really do have a chance at a bright future, and it’s so much closer than I realized.  They really will have “A More Beautiful Tomorrow”.  What an incredible privilege to be a small part of that. –

Kim Beagle

From Charity Navigator: “We are proud to announce Half the Sky Foundation has earned our fourth consecutive 4-star rating for its ability to efficiently manage and grow its finances. Only 8% of the charities we rate have received at least 4 consecutive 4-star evaluations, indicating that Half the Sky Foundation consistently executes its mission in a fiscally responsible way, and outperforms most other charities in America. This “exceptional” designation from Charity Navigator differentiates Half the Sky Foundation from its peers and demonstrates to the public it is worthy of their trust.”

Just a quick reminder that there is still time to honor the women in your life with a Half the Sky Mother’s Day Gift of Love Certificate or Somebody Loves Me Child Sponsorship.  To ensure your gift arrives on time, we will happily email a beautiful certificate to you or your honoree…just let us know by email: donate@halfthesky.org or phone +1 510-525-3377 if you would like your certificate(s) emailed.

If you want a print certificate sent priority mail to you or your honoree, you can accomplish that online (or by phone or email!) after you submit the donation form.  You will get to the donation confirmation screen (see sample on the right) and then can click on “Printed Certificates & Cards” to personalize your certificate.

It should all be easy, but we know it sometimes isn’t, so apologies for the trouble some of you have had donating online.  We are continuing to work on making our giving site more user friendly, but in the meantime, if you have any trouble using it, please email us at donate@halfthesky.org or call our Berkeley, California office during PDT office hours at +1 510-525-3377.

Thank you for your patience!

Half the Sky Foundation