Serving Turtles and Children
From SEEDO volunteer AELITA RONG ROGERS:
There were two volunteering activities that we did in Sri Lanka. First we helped out at a turtle shelter. Next to it was the bluest ocean, with big luscious waves hitting the shore, making a languid meditative music. There were two tasks that we had to do at the shelter. One, was feeding the turtles, the second was to clean their tubs. The first day I fed them. One of the workers gave me and two more group members a bucket of squid, showing us how to prepare their meal, peeling the skin, plucking out the eyes, and taking out the ink sack. The ink got us all dirty. Then we had to chop up the squid into small little cubes. After preparing all the food we fed the turtles. Excited to see us, with our hands full, they came up and snatched the squid bits, making big splashes, drenching us in water.
The second day my team members and I took on the task of cleaning the turtle tanks,
thinking it would take 30-50 minutes. It was definitely the most tedious task out of the whole
trip. For cleaning the tank we had to first drain it, then scrub it, and lastly fill the tank up with sea
water. Each turtle was about the size of a basketball and each had its own tub,
about 100x bigger. After five trips we decided to build a system, the train system. We had to have more people join and help us. There were two people near the beach filling the buckets with water and passing it to the midsection people who were running back and forth passing the buckets to the end-section. The end-section took the buckets and dumped the sea water into the tub. This system was way more efficient and effective. This tedious looking task turned into a bonding task that helped us use our critical thinking and build a sense of community. This whole process took three and a half hours to complete.
The second volunteering activity was helping out at an orphanage. When we arrived, a
teacher gave us a tour of the orphanage. I was expecting a gray looking building that looked
depressing, but instead it looked like a small village that was built on a hill. There were chains of
little one story buildings, surrounding the center of the orphanage, which was in a big field filled
with egg flower trees. The teacher brought us to the top of the orphanage, into a classroom,
where we met the children. Their ages ranged from five to fourteen. More teachers came in and
told all of them to get into three groups and sit in a circle. We brought a lot of materials and each
group had an art project to complete. My group did a self portrait of what they wanted to
become. Most of them said that they wanted to become teachers.
We took pictures of the children with a polaroid so they could keep them afterwards as a souvenir. For the younger ones we took pictures with our phones. When it was time, we all walked down to the center of the
orphanage and took pictures of them as a group among the trees. The older children went off
with a few group members and the younger ones went with me. We walked to a grove of trees and started to take more pictures. I pulled out my phone and the children bombarded me with questions. I let the kids take photos of one another. They didn’t know how to use it so I had to teach them. I told them to click the white button, but that was hard because of the language barrier. After a few tries they got the hang of it, and started to take random pictures of each other. After, we went inside and drew pictures using the photographs.
Leaving the orphanage that day, I couldn't help but think about how much I'd learned from those kids. Their enthusiasm, despite the challenges they faced, was something I won’t forget. At first, I was anxious, worried about the language barrier, and unsure how to communicate, but by the end of the day, I felt a deep sense of connection. Teaching them how to use my phone and seeing their faces light up as they snapped pictures of each other reminded me of the simple joys we often take for granted—things like curiosity, creativity, and the ability to share a moment with someone else. The children’s dreams of becoming teachers were a reminder of the power of hope and imagination, and the importance of believing in a better future, no matter the circumstances.
That experience at the orphanage was more than just a volunteer project; it was a glimpse into the resilience of young hearts and the universal desire to connect and create. When I look back on that day, I remember not just the photographs, but the laughter and the bonds we built, even without words. It made me realize that sometimes the smallest moments—the ones that seem insignificant at first—can leave the biggest impact on your heart.