|
Memories….
I was not looking forward to writing this. In fact I am shaky and nervous as I sit down to put my thoughts down on paper. I know it is right thing to do, because in order to deal with my past I need to remember. So I have asked God to bring back the memories as painful as they were so that he can make me whole and pure again.
I had a wonderful first 6 years with my parents in the tribe. I loved being a part of their work and playing with all my Indian friends. I would help mom with the chores around the house, but mainly I’d play a lot. At the end of each day I would come back home from playing, dirty and hungry, the sun was setting and the mosquitoes were starting to attack. Home was for me a safe haven, a warm place where love and forgiveness were center stage. I Loved my brothers and sisters who took such good care of me.
When I was seven years old, I was taken to boarding school where my older sister, and my two brothers also went to school. I was terrified to go there. Even at that age I understood that it wasn’t normal to be away from your parents at that age. I felt like I was just one child in a group of about 24 kids all cramped into this little dorm. I soon got used to it, kind of just blending into the background, unnoticed and adapting to my present circumstances. I didn’t understand why I was sent there. I was just glad I had my brothers and sister with me, although my older sister was in the girls dorm already and I rarely saw her. Although she did try to keep a watchful eye on me. She was my second mother, a mother I needed at boarding school. I had very little contact with my brothers either even though we were in the same dorm. Guys and girls weren’t allowed to go into each other’s rooms much less cross the “imaginary boundaries” between the boys and girls sections. I felt alone, isolated and very homesick. There were so many rules, I tried to be a good girl out of fear of being punished. Being punished consisted of being spanked by Uncle Frank with a long wooden paddle with the verse “Spare the rod …” carved into it.
I used to hear the screen door slamming and Uncle Frank’s keys jingling from his belt whenever he headed out to one of the rooms. We all knew what he was going to do, he was going to check on all the kids to make sure we were all sleeping, we would all be as quiet as ever to make sure we didn’t get a spanking. We would all be pretending to sleep. We often slept with our covers over our heads and cried ourselves to sleep.
I remember dressing in the closet. When I arrived it was just custom to dress in the closet. I thought it was strange at first because I didn’t understand why. I thought this is strange we have a whole big room to change in and we are all changing in the closet, besides the door was closed anyway. After a while I heard the older girls talking. They were talking about Uncle Frank, they were saying that Uncle frank would barge in on them while they were dressing and look at them in their underwear, he would then proceed to stand there in the door way and look at them while they ran to the closets. So that became normal for us too as younger girls getting used to life in the dorm to dress in the closets…it was a way of the older girls protecting the younger girls. There were no locks on the bedroom doors, that was our only form of protection. I would also hear the older girls talking about Uncle Frank inspecting their underwear in their top drawers. He was constantly in the girls rooms, we rarely saw him going into the guys rooms except maybe to tell them to come with him for a spanking or to give them some sort of order for work detail.
Uncle frank would come in and tuck us girls in at night. I don’t remember Aunt Joan doing that. He would sing to us and pray with us and then head back to his living quarters without heading to the guys rooms.
Guys and girls were treated extremely different. I remember one Saturday the guys had to work all day raking leaves and picking up rotten mangos while the girls were getting all dressed up in fancy clothes and having a tea party. We were in heaven, eating delicious pastries and cakes and using fancy dishes. They even put on some music and we could dance to it. It was a delightful afternoon. But I remember not being able to completely enjoy it because I knew the guys were treated very different and suffering in the hot sun. I knew it wasn’t fair and it gave me a sick feeling in my stomach.
I remember having to take speedy showers because Uncle Frank would barge in on us in the shower. We would take showers together, I thought then that maybe it was because we were to conserve water and take group showers so that we would get done faster. But I think now that by taking showers together it was a form of protection. That somehow we were stronger as a group than as an individual. Because I think the older girls knew what would happen if Uncle Frank came into the bathroom and only one of them were showering, they would be vulnerable and powerless. We just did what the older girls told us to do, they were wise and new the ways of survival.
It was very hard not having much contact with my parents, I needed to talk to someone and tell them how I was feeling, but that was very hard considering the communication was so bad. When we finally were able to talk to them it was always in a public area where everyone could hear what we were saying. The connection was never very good so we had to scream into the phone. We knew Uncle Frank would be listening in on everything on a phone in his bedroom. So we never could talk about our problems or talk about how we were feeling because we knew the phones were being monitored. We would talk about the good things, about the good grades we were getting, about the fun activities we were involved in and about our friends. When we answered the phone we were always “fine” with a long pause afterwards…now what do I say…ummm. It was interesting that I would wait so long to talk to my parents and when I was talking I didn’t have much to say.
Every Sunday afternoon we were forced to write a letter to our parents. It was hard thinking up things to write them. They were mainly short and to the point. These too had to be cold, no emotion, just written about whatever. We couldn’t write our feelings down. These letters were not to be sealed, they were first read and then sent out.
I remember one morning at breakfast Uncle Frank stood up and said that he had accepted Jesus as has savior the night before. We were shocked! How could someone who had been in the mission all those years just now being giving his life to Jesus. He had been responsible for all these kids throughout the years. I felt angry but I also felt pity. I could see such remorse, such pain in his eyes, he got teary- eyed and then sat down. Soon after Uncle Frank was asked to leave the dorm, no explanation, no clarification just that we would be temporarily without dorm parents.
That meant they had to find a place for all us kids to go to. Obviously keeping the dorm together was no option since there were no dorm parents, so they separated all of us and sent us two by two to other families on the land. I remember packing my things, being so confused, we needed answers but didn’t get anything. I needed my family now more than ever. I felt alone and insecure. I was sent along with another girl to one of the teachers house. It was a very fancy house and very cozy and warm. We felt like princesses. We shared a large double bed with warm covers, we had a nice room and really nice food. This teacher was very kind, she felt sorry for us and treated us very nice. She opened her house to us and treated us as her own children. I remember thinking, don’t get too used to this treatment, it’s just temporary. It won’t last and soon you’ll be back in the dorm again. I hated the silence, I remember asking “Why isn’t anyone talking? Don’t we have a right to know what will happen to us?”
|
Login
Register
FAQ
Search
