TheBanyanTree: Early May 2009

[Pat M]

These days I’m looking forward to my return to Canada. I’ve decided to go
ahead with elective laser eye surgery and have an appointment at the end of
June. I plan to return to China at the end of September provided everything
goes well.

Prior to this trip, my overseas ventures have included plenty of visits to
interesting locations and sights. This time, as a volunteer at the
orphanage, I have gone nowhere and done nothing exciting.  I can't even find
anything nice to buy in this rural area aside for some cheap (pirated) DVDs
and CDs (only some of which work).

Every day life in rural China is very different and interesting, though.  The
other day, I got off the bus in front of the orphanage only to find myself
in the midst of a small herd of water buffalo that seemed to have appeared
from nowhere.  A local villager carrying a long stick followed them but they
knew where they were going and required no guidance. I had to take a step
backwards so they could pass.

One night after dinner, I heard some noise outside the gate. The school and
the orphanage are in a locked compound and the gate is solid metal and 12
feet high so I couldn’t see what was going on.  I unlocked it and looked
outside.  Two huge pigs were roaming free. One of them had no ears. My
immediate thought was, “I wonder if someone got hungry.” Here at the
orphanage, they sometimes cook pig’s ears in with the cabbage.  Of course,
I’m sure (well, pretty sure) the pig’s ears had become diseased and were cut
off, but I’ll never know for sure.

So what were two gigantic pigs doing outside the gate?  Several men stood
around watching them but no one seemed concerned.  The pigs were rooting
around in the mud puddles looking for something to eat.  After watching for
a few minutes, I returned to the compound and carefully closed the gate
behind me. I certainly didn’t want them to get into the orphanage/school
grounds.  Sometime later I heard some terrible squealing and again opened
the gate to look outside. A small pickup truck had arrived and the ear-less
pig had already been loaded. Three men had cornered the second pig. Two men
each held an ear and a third man had the pig’s tail. I watched them load the
frightened animal.  How, I wondered, had they managed to load the ear-less
pig? Ah, the mysteries of country life.

The grade fives and sixes go to a school outside the compound, and one girl
recently came back with a new born kitten. Someone must have tossed it out
like a piece of garbage.  It was far too young to be away from its mother.  It
had almost no hair but what it did have was white. It was dirt-covered and
looked diseased. My heart ached just to look at it. The girl put it in a
cardboard box and seemed to forget about it.  I watched and waited to see if
she would take care of it. When she didn’t, I went to Peter.

“No one is taking care of the kitten,” I said.

He said, “She doesn’t know what to do for it.”

“It’s too small to be away from its mother. It’s probably going to die,” I
said.

“If you know how to help it, please do it.”

I made up some soya milk, placed it in the box and dunked the kitten’s nose
in it. It didn’t show any interest.

The poor little thing only had one eye open but the next day, its other eye
opened. In spite of its appearance it was strong and it yowled for its
mother often. Someone put a scrap of t-shirt in the box and it was painful
to watch the kitten hunting for its mother’s teat amongst the creases.

I bought some cow’s milk (it felt strange to be feeding it to the kitten
when the children never get milk) and every day I took it some. I know cow’s
milk isn’t good for cats but I watered it down; it was the best I could do.

Every morning the milk was curdled and appeared to have been untouched.  Every
morning I washed away the sour milk in the ditch and refilled the coffee jar
lid.  Although I often showed the kitten (I overcame my reluctance to touch
it and made sure to disinfect my hands afterwards) where the milk was, I
never saw it drink any. I tried to make a nipple out of the corner of a
plastic bag but was unsuccessful.  The kitten didn’t catch on.

The next days were painful for me. Every morning I expected to find the
kitten dead, but every morning it was still alive. I marvelled at its
determination to live.  As the days went on the kitten became weaker.  When
it stood it teetered on its legs and sometimes fell over. It should have
been put out of its misery but I couldn’t do it and no one else was that
concerned.

Often when I looked in the box it appeared to be dead. One of the children
would come over and tap the side of the box so it would stir and I'd know it
was still alive. That little scrap of life lived for two weeks on next to
nothing, and my heart ached every time I looked at it.

I was in the dining room eating dinner when three girls came to me.  They
used their fingers to draw a line across their throats. “Mao  ….
(interesting that the Chinese word for cat is similar to meouw).  I knew
what they meant immediately. The kitten had died.  It was out of its misery.

Jessica, the 20-year-old worker who sleeps in the dorm with the girls
brought two puppies to the orphanage recently. They are really cute, but one
is a male and the other is a female.  No one seems too concerned that in
about 8 months they will mate.

“What will you do with the puppies?” I asked Peter.  “They won’t care that
they are brother and sister.”

“I didn’t think of that,” he said.

Ah well, I thought, who am I to interfere?

-- 
Pat

Pingguo China 2008 photos can be viewed at
http://picasaweb.google.com/Ms.Pat.Martin/Pingguo#