Sunday, July 31, 2011

Leaving...

is exhausting. Especially when your body is not cooperating with you.

I’ll start with the Sunday after my last post. I had planned with Lauren to take one of my girls to the movies. We were going to go to the mall, have lunch, and see the new Harry Potter. I got no further than the center when I started to get sick. I ended up throwing up and sitting on the floor of the Tegus Burger King bathroom unable to move. Fortunately, there was a Ranch van coming back from the city that was able to come pick me up and take me home. Lauren and Dixie dragged me across Central Park to the van so I wouldn’t pass out. Not fun.

I felt well enough to go to school on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. Wednesday was my last day in second grade, so I brought cupcakes. They all drew me pictures that I have in a little file to take home. Joel wrote me a really heartfelt letter that made me feel really good about my year here. I had the kids design new covers for the books I’ve been having them read and was gratified to see both more creativity and understanding in them. After school on Wednesday, I shared a cake I had made with my Montessori compatriots and did a little training that Momo had asked me to do. I shared observations, suggestions, and teaching strategies. I was a little frustrated because they were rushing me to get started so they could work on Día del Indio decorations. But they ended up really appreciating my ideas, and Micaela said my Spanish was spot-on. Momo said she didn’t know why she hadn’t had me do a training every week and that she hoped I’d do some when I came back to visit. I think I would have been really happy to have had that Learning Specialist role, but I think it all worked out how it needed to work out.

That afternoon, I had a nasty headache which I attributed to the shoe polish we’d been using for some of the decorations. I ate a little bit of casamiento (rice and beans) for dinner in hogar and then crawled into one of the girls beds. At 8:00, when it was time to lock the hogar and for me to go home, I started throwing up. I got back in bed, where I continued to puke for another 2 hours. Saravia, bless her heart, cleaned out my bucket something like 5 times. When the tía realized I was still there and sick, she and two of the girls took me up to the clinic. They gave me a shot and some meds and I went back to sleep in the hogar. I didn’t sleep a wink because I was so uncomfortable and restless.

In the morning, I called Momo knowing I couldn’t cover for Kenia in first grade like we’d planned. I stayed in bed all day willing myself to be better for my going away party with the girls. At about 5:00, I was still feeling pretty icky, so Tiffany hooked me up to an IV and gave me a liter of fluids. I was able to go to my despedida, although I wasn’t at my best. It was still fun. The tías made catrachas (I managed to eat one and a half), and we hung out in the salon of the leadership house. I made a slideshow of pictures from the year accompanied by memorable music. I gave the girls new losa (plates and cups) and wrote each of them a card with my favorite memory with each one. Several of them teared up, and Fanny Nicol full on cried because she didn’t want me to leave. We wrapped the night up with ice cream sundaes (for which I exceeded my despedida budget). Although I couldn’t enjoy one, it was worth it to give my special girls a special treat.

For the weekend, I’d planned a trip to Caridad with Tía Mirna, my friend Laura, and her husband Chris. I wasn’t sure I was up to it, but I was convinced when it was decided we’d rent a car. We headed out for Tegus in the afternoon to pick the car up at the airport. We stopped for pizza and were on our way south. Caridad is about 3 hours away (6 on bus), and we got there in the evening. It is Mirna’s hometown, as well as that of Rosa Lilian, Laura’s goddaughter and the young girl who died this past New Year’s Eve. The town is charming, nestled in the hills, but hot as all get-out. Before heading out on Sunday, we spent time visiting with friends and family of Mirna and those who were close to Rosa Lilian and her siblings (including an older brother and his pregnant wife), swam in the river, and left flowers at Rosa’s grave.

This last week, I haven’t had to work at school. I’ve been busy packing up and saying my goodbyes. I visited other classrooms, trained the third grade teacher in using base ten blocks for multiplication and division, did craneosacral sessions with Momo, gave a sponsorship talk to the visiting medical brigade, delivered letters to my godsons, left stuffed hippos in the care of my daughters Gabi and Natalia, divvied up my things I’m not taking home amongst my girls, and spent time with my special people. My hogar did a despedida for me on Wednesday, where they fried about a million tacos. On Thursday, the Montessori team took me to Siria for a lovely lunch of fried fish.

Friday, the four of us who are leaving spent the day dealing with the residency debacle. Max and Sona went to cancel theirs on Monday, where they were told they needed further documentation (which has never been required before). Since our residency was granted based on our affiliation with the Catholic church, we had to get special letters from the Archdiocese (which required special letters from NPH to the Archdiocese). It went a little like this:
Ranch transport to Cerro Grande
Colectivo from Cerro Grande to the center 12 lempiras
Colectivo from Parque Central to Hospital San Felipe 12 lempiras
Walk to Archdiocese (God bless the Hermana for awesome directions)
Get letters
Taxi to immigration 70 lempiras (between three people)
Realize that immigration has moved
Taxi to new immigration building 90 lempiras (between three people)
Wait in line forever in the most inefficient place on Planet Earth
Finally get residency cancelled
Colectivo to the center 12 lempiras
Colectivo to Cerro Grande 12 lempiras
Public bus back to the Ranch 20 lempiras

Friday night, we had what would normally be a Saturday night activity because the visitors for the medical brigade were leaving. I had to judge one last time, and then we all had a big party where I danced the night away with my godson. I ended up talking to one of the visitors, Karen, who mentioned really wanting to help aspiring athletes from the Ranch. I gave her my e-mail so we could keep in touch, her being from Seattle and all. She mentioned that her last name was Moyer, and I might have heard of her foundation: the Moyer Foundation. As in JAMIE MOYER. As in her husband. As in one of my favorite baseball players from the golden age of Mariners baseball on whom I had a major crush in high school (second only to my beloved Joey Cora). I was beside myself with glee not only for a little glimpse of fame but also because now this really great organization could be involved in my personal favorite really great organization.

I spent Saturday packing and cleaning my room. We had a tearful mass where all the outgoing volunteers were presented with a wooden plaque. Stefan said some nice words about each of us. For me, he said he’d noticed that I was someone who didn’t just work at the Ranch but really lived it, and I appreciated that. He also said he knew what a good job I’d done because now they had a big headache trying to figure out what to do now that I’m leaving. Not sure that’s true, but it was nice. Several of the girls came to see me off from the gate, including Margareth who came to cut a lock of my hair as a recuerdo. We headed off to Tegus, where we had dinner and a night of dancing. It was annoying getting that many people organized, but in the end I genuinely had a really good time.

I’m sitting here in the Granada for the last time, thinking how strange it will be not to see every day all the people who have made up my life here. And I’m asking myself how my life will ever be the same, but I think I already know the answer.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Kimmie as Mary Murphy

So one of our on-going Saturday activities has been a dance competition a la So You Think You Can Dance and Dancing with the Stars. Each week, the same couples of kids of the same age compete in two dance categories and are judged by a panel of “experts.” There are three scores plus the “Voto Secreto” and there’s a running tally to decide who goes to the finals.

A few weeks ago, I was asked to help the Hijas de María and San Francisco (the youngest kids after Casa Suyapa) with their merengue. It was fun to teach my students something outside of school, and I love when little kids dance in couples. When I showed a new step, they all wanted to try it with me, which is quite funny since I’m just a bit taller than the average Honduran 8 year-old. I bowed out of helping with punta because I can’t do it. It’s a booty-shaking dance with roots in the Garifuna culture of the north coast and is completely exhausting.

Even though it was my weekend off, I showed up to watch the performance. There, I got roped in by the tías to being a judge. It was really fun being on the panel and getting to see all the dances, until…Yamileth came out to dance with her partner “Justin Bieber.” Turns out Yami had some trouble finding a partner, so she got one of the other girls to dress up as a dude and they danced an excellent merengue. During the performance, the powers that be decided they would be eliminated because the rules were that it had to be a boy and a girl. I was so infuriated. I gave them a standing ovation, and when they passed me the microphone I congratulated the girls on finding a creative solution to the problem that sometimes the boys just don’t want to dance and that for me, the performance was a 10. The crowd of kids erupted in cheers of, “¡Te queremos, Kimmie, te queremos!” The MC and several others came to congratulate me for speaking up. Some people probably weren’t too happy, but if they didn’t want my opinion they shouldn’t have asked me to be a judge. End righteous indignation.

So after that, I got roped into helping with several more dances for this week (again for my weekend off). I again helped the little ones, this time with a bachata, which is a slow, romantic style that I love. Friday night, I helped Yamileth and Hallan (she got my godson to dance with her so she could qualify) with their rock and roll number. Tía Mirna asked me to create a dance for Pilares, not as part of the competition but just as a demonstration, so we worked on that Saturday after mass. The night was really fun. I judged again (this time the Secret Vote) and felt really comfortable given constructive criticism in Spanish and felt like I had good pointers for the dancers. Nataly and Isaac (brother of Eliu, my favorite dance partner – see a previous post) did an absolutely killer rock and roll number that had me on my feet and cheering. I danced with Pilares; we forgot some steps and one of the girls ran out in the middle from having pena, but it still turned out all right. And thus ended my last Rancho Santa Fe dancing adventure.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Birthday


I have to give it to the Rancho Santa Fe: they sure know how to make a girl feel special on her birthday. I was awakened by the sound of my Pilares singing the Spanish birthday song (“Las Mañanitas) outside my bedroom window at 5:30 a.m. I then headed to hogar at 6:00 a.m. so Fanny Nicol could do my hair. She did all the hair for the quinceañeras and I’ve been asking her to do mine for a long time; it seemed only fitting that she should do it for this my treintañera. She created the most elaborate updo I’ve ever seen (photos to be posted on Facebook). I sat with my head down for half an hour while she did three upside-down connected French braids. It was topped off by a loopy, flowery bun on top and secured with mountains of bobby pins and hairspray. It was definitely a labor of love, and it didn’t hurt my feelings at all to be told how beautiful it was all day.

The day was full of wonderful surprises. Everyone seemed to know it was my birthday, and everywhere I went people greeted me with felicidades. The second I arrived at the school, Kenia and the first graders serenaded me with “Las Mañanitas.” The music teacher showed up to second grade with his guitar, and they sang to me as well. My little Jeison sang a poem. There were phone calls from Magda, Camila, Stefan, Laura, and a mystery man, and texts from Dixi and Leila. Dori and Xiomara both brought me chocolate treats, and the lady who runs the little caseta that I always go to for my morning snack gave me a 1.5 liter bottle of Pepsi! The little girls in Hijas de María drew me a picture and wrote me a letter in which they also warned me that I would be getting egged, but I miraculously managed to avoid that all day.

One funny thing I’ve learned about Hondurans is that they really like surprises, but they’re really bad at them. I started to suspect something after school got out when Xiomi went to get water and didn’t come back for an hour. When she finally did come back, she was clearly trying to keep me occupied until 3:00 finally rolled around and we still hadn’t eaten lunch. We went to the third grade classroom where all the Montessori teachers were waiting to surprise me. They had prepared gringas, tacos, and lots of other treats. Momo brought a huge chocolate cake as well. Micaela, Xiomara, Kenia, and Momo gave a toast of sorts and all said very lovely things that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. And they sang “Las Mañanitas.”

My hogar has had me suspecting something for days. Tía Mirna said she wouldn’t be there for my birthday because she had to run errands, and Tía Delmy said she had to go to a training. The girls said we’d be alone and it would be boring, but to bring my camera (???). This afternoon, Saravia insisted the tías wouldn’t be there but said she had to keep me busy until 7:00 (???). So it wasn’t so much of a surprise when I showed up to a darkened comedor and was greeted with shrieks, squeals, confetti, and another rousing chorus of “Las Mañanitas,” but it certainly didn’t take away from anything. The tías and girls from all the hogares of the upper house had made fried chicken, rice, salad, and cake. Gloria (who isn’t even in my hogar) gave a little speech all in English that made me cry. After tucking the girls in for the night, I headed home. As I passed the darkened windows of Talita Kumi, I was once again wished a happy birthday and many more.

I came home to take my hair down, take a shower, and go to bed. But around 9:00, I was roused by the unmistakable sound of Lauren’s voice saying, “¡Vos vieja!” I came out to find a spread of popcorn, M&Ms, Skittles, piña coladas, and one of Tía Sona’s famous cakes (which read “Feliz cumple GORDITA). The volunteer crew attempted to sing “Las Mañanitas,” but it was rough going since I’m the only one who knows all the words. ;) I got a lovely card with messages from all the volunteers and many hugs goodnight.

Xiomara in school and Nancy in hogar said very lovely prayers for me, and I was mentioned in the petitions in mass the day after my birthday. And then after mass, of course, the whole Ranch sang to all the cumpleañeros…wait for it…”LAS MAÑANITAS!!”

I really thought 30 would be a bigger deal, but I don’t feel all that different. So much has happened this year and so much has changed, including me. I feel happy and I feel loved, and I have a feeling it’s just going to get better in this my fourth decade.

Fourth of July

I have to give DeeDee and Jason major props for planning an epic Independence Day celebration for the volunteer house. Sunday worked better for everybody, so we celebrated America’s birthday on the 3rd. We were requested to bring the following:
1)A winning attitude
2)Your love for red, white, and blue
We all dressed up in the colors of the flag. I snagged a killer shirt in La Isla and painted my nails to match (these colors don’t run!!). We had a bonfire on which we roasted hotdogs, and DeeDee managed to make one of those classic American flag cakes with strawberries (blue candles in lieu of blueberries) from scratch (not a box, which I had forgotten you could do). There was a fantastic USA playlist that included everything from Miley Cyrus’s “Party in the USA” to Madonna’s rendition of “American Pie” to lots of Bruce Springsteen. When we lit the candles on the cake, we sang “The Star Spangled Banner” and I’m not joking when I say it gave me chills. We followed it up with “Happy Birthday” to Pete and in Honduran tradition, we cracked eggs over his head. The night was topped off with the exiting volunteers (Jason, Sona, Max, and me) tearfully singing along to “Leaving on a Jet Plane,” soon joined by Tiffany and Pete, the rest of our original group who are choosing to extend their stay. All in all, another great out-of-the-country 4th of July (my fifth!).

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Things I AM Going to Miss…

Feeling guilty about the last post, I have composed the following…

1. Tucking my girls in at night, with hugs, kisses, and “Te quieros.”
2. Feeling like a rockstar as I walk around the Ranch and have my name yelled.
3. Hot tea from the kitchen.
4. 3 month-old Ricardo falling asleep on my chest after his bottle.
5. Being called Tía Kimmie.
6. Bantering with Kenia at school.
7. Visiting the conses in the baby house with Saravia.
8. Cokes and tortillas con quesillo in the caseta at school.
9. Natalia telling me I’m her mom.
10. Mass. (I know, but I really like it.)
11. Cheap movies from La Isla.
12. Living simply. That one blue plastic plate has lasted me all year for all my meals.
13. The sound of cracking nits (lice eggs) between my thumbnails. Don’t judge. I can now delouse someone and am thus thinking of becoming a full-time catracha.
14. Being half of Tío Richard’s conses al cuadrado. Or maybe I’m the square root?
15. The feeling of always being on somewhat of an adventure.

Things I’m NOT Going to Miss…

As my year comes to a close, I thought I would go negative and write about what I’m not going to miss. In no particular order:

1. The smell of unwashed humanity on a skanky public bus to Tegucigalpa.
2. Tegucigalpa.
3. Community living i.e. Passive-Aggression 101 and cleaning up other people’s disgusting messes. Note: last kitchen duty this Thursday – woohoo!
4. Banging my head against the wall trying to get my students to analyze or think critically.
5. Having to do so much with so little.
6. Packages I know about that never arrive.
7. Forgetting important dates such as birthdays, which I never do at home.
8. Doing without electricity, cell service, water, or Internet at any given moment.
9. Being the Internet go-to girl for my girls during my free time because there’s no other way they can do their homework (thank you, talleres teachers). See above for more related frustrations.
10. Going hungry at work because there just wasn’t enough food.
11. Cleaning my own classroom.
12. Year-round bugs that find me inexplicably delicious. (Little known fact: my eyelids are especially tasty.)
13. Lice, scabies, and pink eye. Not that they don’t exist in the States, but I’m not as likely to get them.
14. Campañas de limpieza (cleaning campaigns).
15. Having my personal and professional life be one and the same.

I think I’m perhaps doing this because my subconscious knows how hard it’s going to be for me to leave, and focusing on everything that sucks might make it easier. But, as Mr. Gendreau used to say, it was in my craw and I needed it to come out.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

27 Baptisms and 2 Baby Boys

Last week, we 27 of our children were baptized into the Catholic faith. Each of them was dressed in his/her finest, all the little girls in dresses of white. They all had a godfather and godmother. I was asked to be Natalia’s, but was unable to because I’m not Catholic. I was really honored to be asked, however. The baptisms were done by Padre Cheche, a Mexican priest and my favorite of those who give mass here, and Father Luta, a visiting priest originally from Uganda. Padre Cheche gave a really interesting explanation of baptism. He said the purpose of baptism is to wash one clean of original sin. But, he asked, are these little ones capable of sin? No, but they come into the world sinners regardless. He gave an example of a baby born with HIV. It’s not the baby’s fault, but the baby still has the disease. And we do everything in our power to help that baby cope with the illness. Similarly, he explained, these little ones are born into sin through no fault of their own, and we do everything we can to help them, which means we baptize them. I’m not sure if I’m explaining it or translating it well at all, but it was something that stuck with me. It was fun to see the kids’ different reactions to water being poured on their heads, from laughter to tears. Henry, one of our special needs boys, really wanted to play in that pool of water. I really love how steeped in tradition the Catholic church is, and it was special to be a part of an important moment in our NPH Honduras family.

In other Ranch news, our newest additions are twin 3 month-olds, Alan and Ricardo, and their 3 year-old sister Berenice (it sounds so much prettier in Spanish). They come from the nearby town of Talanga and were part of our comedor project, but have now come to live at the Ranch. The boys look like two little old men. I had my first up close and personal encounter with them today. I went up to the clinic where all new kids stay for a few weeks, and Tiffany had just prepared a bottle for Ricardo. I had the pleasure of giving it to him, which brought back my Connor nanny days. He fell asleep in my arms like a little caterpillar and managed to nuzzle his head right under my chin. I know exactly where I’ll be spending all my free time for the next six weeks.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Semana Pedagógica

So we’ve had a week off of school, and since I decided not to take vacation, I’ve been working in various capacities. For three days, I was in Casa Suyapa with Momo helping paint the Montessori classroom there. After the first day of painting everything white, I was told I would be given an easier job since I made so many “manchas” the day before. I resigned myself to adding painting to the ever-growing list of practical life-skills which I do not possess. After painting everything a light blue, Momo decided she wanted to paint a tree in the reading corner. Since I don’t draw and I also know that Momo is very particular about how she likes things, I figured I would just paint in whatever someone else designed. But that was not to be, and I ended up in charge of designing and drawing it. So I took a deep breath, embraced my inner Quinn (think: opus), and went for it. It ended up being really great, much to my surprise, and Momo was delighted with it.

When I wasn’t painting, I was working in hogar. With the tías on a retreat one day, my two girls who didn’t go visit family for the week and who aren’t in their year of service, were taking care of the younger girls. I ended up helping out in Hijas de María (girls 7-9). I’m the teacher for a lot of them, so they were pretty tickled to have my come cuidar them. The rest of the time, I was hanging out in hogar and helping with homework, the latter of which is incredibly frustrating. The talleres teachers demand homework that requires doing Internet research and printing information and images. This is difficult because Internet, electricity, and ink are all short supply here. I find it especially ironic that the computer teacher assigned a project (requiring electricity) instead of doing an exam because the power went out in his classroom that day. This is an on-site school ; it’s not like they don’t know the reality we live in. And don’t get me started on the complete pointlessness of the homework and the utter lack of associated learning objectives.

Every afternoon of the week, I spend two hours rehearsing with the modern dance group. I think I’m just really irritable because I was getting more frustrated than usual. The group leader is great, but he lacks some dance basics. He never counts in 8, the moves don’t necessarily make sense musically, and he changes the steps when he dances. I was also frustrated with my own body. I’m not 16 anymore, and it just doesn’t come as easily anymore. But the remix was great, and I’m always game for a performance. We were preparing for an intermission presentation for Saturday’s Festival de la Canción (American Idol NPH Honduras). I put on my dance team game face and danced FULL OUT, as we like to say, and was gratified with cheers of, “Kimmie! Kimmie! Kimmie!”

It’s been interesting to have a change of pace, but I think I’ll be glad to get back to my usual routine. I’m looking at about six more weeks, and I think I’m pretty much done. Little things are starting to stress me out and frustrate me and I’m missing the food and conveniences of the first world. It’s definitely not the kids; just sometimes the situation makes it hard.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Need a Little Motivation...

If you're still reading this, please leave me a little comment para animarme to write more.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

You Know You’re Just About Fluent in Spanish When

…your girls check the spelling of certain words with you for their homework.

…you can explain division of polynomials (also a sign your math skills are still smokin’).

…you can just as easily speak in usted, tú, or vos.

…you know the difference between “Ya llego” (I’ll be right there), “Ya vengo” (I’ll be right back), and “Ya voy” (I’m coming).

…you understand inappropriate humor.

…you don’t switch to English when you get really mad.

…colloquialisms are part of your everyday vocabulary.

…your students aren’t sure if you speak English.

…they also no longer check with another teacher after asking you a question.

…after not speaking with a girl for months (she’s in the city doing her year of service) and finally talking to her on the phone, she exclaims, “¡Ya puedes hablar español!”

Teaching

Since I got back from vacation, I’ve been working two days a week in second grade and three days in first grade. I have definitely had my frustrations this year, mostly with the kids’ behavior, but the lack of resources also makes me feel sometimes like I’m teaching with one hand tied behind my back. But as my volunteer year comes to a close, I’m reflecting on the changes I have been able to make and feel positive about them, especially in regards to teaching methodology and instructional strategies.

I feel like I’ve brought read-aloud to the forefront of instruction here. Kenia always tells me how much she enjoys hearing me read, and the kids always ask me to. I was able to start a Word Wall of words kids should be reading at first glance. We do ten a week on flashcards, and then I put them on the wall for them to practice. For the kids who struggle the most, I did an oral reading fluency take-home activity so they could practice every day with their tíos. For our science theme, we’re studying living things versus nonliving things. I introduced the idea of a Venn diagram, and the students did really well with it, although it was really hard at first. I also had the kids create a personal coat of arms when we studied the individual. The other day, the kids were getting a talking to after yanking the tail off a poor little gecko. All they wanted to do after that was talk about experiences they’d had with animals, so I suggested they write about it. I did an example on the board, we shared ideas, and I sent them off tow work. I was so pleased with their ideas, although I was as usual frustrated by the demand for perfection in spelling in first grade when, for me, ideas have always held more weight. Imagine my delight when I came back from teaching second grade and Kenia was having the kids write their own “avisos” after sharing her own example. She told them that the most important thing was that they were writing and that content is what counted!!

In second grade, I’m working on eliminating round robin reading. The kids lose their place, those who struggle get embarrassed, and those who already read well get bored. I started with a cloze read, where I read aloud and leave out a word which the kids then supply chorally. They seem to be really engaged with that strategy. I’m using questioning strategies to get the kids to make predictions and draw conclusions, since they are really lacking in analysis. I really like that the teacher Xiomara is open to new ideas and asks me to show her strategies. The other day, she was struggling to present an activity on volume and asked me to step in. I had a blast doing it, and the kids really surprised me with how well they understood it. We had several graduated cylinders of various sizes and they had to figure out different ways to make a liter. I was impressed with their use of fractions and repeated addition.
In turn, I’ve learned a lot from the teachers here. When I left Puyallup, I would have said that discipline and management were my strengths, but I have been challenged here in ways I never imagined. The amount of behavioral problems here is astounding, but Kenia has really helped me understand where the kids come from and why they behave the way they do. I now know how to manage not just one tough kid, but a whole classroom full of them. I can’t imagine running into any group of children more challenging than these. I’ve also benefitted from learning the Montessori method, and my work in younger grades will be a big help to me when I start teaching second grade this fall at Meeker Elementary in Puyallup.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Bellydance Comes to the Ranch

When I was home in January, I got all jazzed about the idea of teaching a bellydance class to the older girls on the Ranch. I packed music, some costuming, and zils donated by my former teacher Zanbaka. When I got back, I got permission to start classes. Anyway, for reasons I won’t go into on my blog, my initiative died a sad little death. I did end up showing some of my girls Zanbaka’s bellydance guidebooks where I am featured as the model, which they thought was pretty cool. One of those girls is an officer in the Youths in Action group on the Ranch. They were in charge of this weekend’s activities, including Saturday night’s talent show. When neither the tías in Talita Kumi nor the volunteers came up with a presentation, I was convinced (it didn’t take much) to perform. This was about 15 minutes before the event began, so good thing I studied tribal improvisation. I ran back to the house, where Miriam helped me get ready. I dressed like I did when I performed at Zeiger, so a little more conservative than normal. When I arrived at talleres, people asked me if I was dancing and if so with whom. What I got was lots of, “You’re dancing ALONE?” I was a little nervous; I’m not going to lie. This is something definitely outside of mainstream Honduran culture. It didn’t help that we had technical difficulties, but my music finally came on. When I took my position and the lights went down, I could hear little Jarvin’s voice saying, “Qué bonito!” I only danced for a few minutes, but I managed to have a good time and was really appreciative of the shouts of support from my girls. They really loved it and asked me when I was going to teach them to move like that. They were mesmerized by the zils, and Aida asked me who was playing, not realizing that I was doing it while I danced. My tía Delmy was especially impressed and said she really wished she’d learned to dance from me. It looks like there’s interest, so maybe there’s still time, despite the snail’s pace at which everything moves here. In any case, I got to strut my stuff, and we all know how much I like that.

Choluteca Weekend

This February, three girls from the Ranch were given the opportunity to bypass their year of service and go directly to bachillerato (high school) in Choluteca, a city about 3-4 hours south of Tegus by bus (it’s really close to the Nicaraguan border). They’ve been asking me when I’m going to come visit them, so I decided on the second weekend in March. It helps that one of my favorite kids of all time is there. Magda is such a rockstar. She really has it together. One of my favorite things about her is that she really stuck it to the machistas in talleres and insisted on being allowed to be in welding and then passed her national exams with flying colors. I left school at 1:00 p.m. on Friday and hopped on the bus to Tegus. I got off at El Mayoreo and quickly found a bus to Choluteca. Figuring out transportation all by myself is always a big confidence booster for me. This being Mother’s Day Weekend, the bus took forever to get to Choluteca. Magda must have called me 8 times to make sure I was okay and so she’d know when to meet me at the terminal. I got there a little after 7:00 p.m., and she and Heidy were both there to pick me up. We took a cab to the house where the three girls live. They are staying with the cousin of another pequeña and her three daughters (so with “family”). Ingrid welcomed me into her home and fed me lots of greasy food so that I would leave “bien gorda.” Two of the girls bunked together so I could have my own bed, and they set the fan up right next to me because Choluteca is notoriously hot. Those girls really know how to consentir. I didn’t carry my own bags, never washed my own dishes, and got scolded for making my own bed. And that little pumpkin Magda kept trying to pay for me when we went out. Heidy made me coffee Saturday morning, and then I took my first ever bucket shower. It was a little area outside, blocked off with sheets, those being the only things between me and the rooster next door. I was told to throw water on any of the dogs who tried to come in. After we got ready, Wendy, Magda and I headed to a nearby swimming pool with their friends from school. We were there pretty much all day. I felt shy around the friends because they spoke Spanish differently and really fast. Once we headed to the park in the late afternoon, they started to ask me questions, and we all warmed up to each other and had a great time. We spent the evening back at the house, where Heidy painted my nails for an hour. She’s a perfectionist and had to do an elaborate design. I think it’s a modern teenage Honduran equivalent of the washing of feet in the Bible. It’s an act of service and love. The girls sent me off Sunday morning with lots of hugs and requests for another visit. All in all, it was a lovely weekend.

Friday, April 29, 2011

Meanwhile Back at the Ranch

So back to work it is! Momo and I had decided that after Semana Santa, I would start working part time in first grade and part time in second with my kids from last year. Because the little kids are gone at the beach this week, I was in second grade the whole week. The teacher is Xiomara, an ex-pequeña herself, and I’m helping her with instructional strategies. It’s been going well – the kids are excited to have me there because they get more individual attention with a second teacher, naturally. I’m back in hogar, which is wonderful. I loved being greeted by some of the girls as if they hadn’t seen me in years. Wednesday was Día del Trabajador. We had a mass honoring Joseph the worker and a fantastic lunch (pork and scalloped potatoes, oh my!) for all the employees. There was also a band and dancing. I was starting to feel like a rejected seventh grader at a junior high dance, so Victoria and I took matters into our own hands and salsa and merengued it up. Thursday was a fun day because I left school at noon to go on compras. One day every month, the kids who had birthdays that month all pile onto the NPH bus with the folks from sponsorship for a day in the city. They get pizza, cake, and some spending money to go shopping. I went with cousins Saravia and Hallan. Hallan’s sister met us at Pizza Hut and I got to hold her precious 4 month-old Vienna Emoly. She loved my Muppet faces, but Saravia really had the magic touch with her. The bus ride home was full of teasing and laughter and general hysteria. That night, there was a tremendous storm with heavy rains, thunder, lightning, and the biggest hail I’ve ever seen in my life. I definitely got some pretty big ice chunks put down my shirt, thanks to my little lovelies in hogar. Today, I found myself alone with the kiddos because Xiomara was sick. I read them a book from my childhood called Two Bad Ants and had them illustrate three main events in order (a comprehension activity they’d never done before). They worked so well I wanted to take a picture. It all went well until computer class because they power went out, so I had to fill an hour and ten minutes. We went out to have the PE class, and they did well with structured activities, but as soon as I gave them some freedom, they lost it. I gave them homework as a consequence, and they weren’t too happy, but such is life. Just left the volunteer meeting and am relaxing a bit before we begin ye olde work weekend.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Krista and Kimmie Do Central America




My dear friend Krista travelled all the way to Honduras, using up all her vacation, to come play with me. I have to give her major props. Honduras isn´t exactly a tourist destination, it´s a pricey ticket, and you have to get shots just to come here, for goodness sake! That and everything we wanted to do required getting up at 5 in the morning. We did manage to have an absolute blast, though!

Krista got in on Saturday the 16th, and Saravia accompanied me to the airport. The three of us girls headed into the city center for a lovely lunch at Cafe Paraiso. After stocking up at the grocery store, Krista got the colectivo and public bus experience to get to the Ranch. We were full up with visitors, so she actually got to stay in the priest´s house - pretty sweet digs. Instead of letting her rest, I dragged her to my hogar to meet the girls who weren´t with family for Holy Week. Those who stayed were leaving to go camping, and I wanted to make sure she met them. We also hit up the baby house, always a popular spot for visitors. On Sunday, we had a procession with all the boys to the church for Palm Sunday (with Tio Chele on a real live donkey and everything). From there, I gave her the tour of the Ranch followed by a hike to the cemetary. I somehow managed to get us lost until some nice old man in Tamal y Queso pointed us back in the right direction (and accompanied us silly gringas for part of the way). It was great eavesdropping on Krista´s phone conversation with her boyfriend about the Ranch. She really loved it. The kids didn´t hesitate to hop on her lap and she was impressed by the fact that we send our kids to college. I think she´s going to start a sponsorship when she gets back.

We headed to Tegucigalpa on Monday, catching a jalon with Reinhart and Camila right to our hotel door. I made sure Krista got all the important Tegus experiences like eating a baleada at Dolores, chilling out on the Pincho Loco patio, and buying a movie at La Isla. We met up with Leila later in the day and headed up to her apartment for a spaghetti dinner.

At the crack of dawn Tuesday, we were off to Copan. The ride to San Pedro Sula wasn´t too bad, but the windy road in the busito to Copan nearly killed us. We got in around 3 in the afternoon to find that the hostel I´d booked lost our reservation. It didn´t take too long to find something else, fortunately. I was crazy that day because I had to figure out how to do an interview, so we went searching for an Internet cafe with Skype and a webcam. It went pretty well, although I was glad they couldn´t see my sweat. We went out for a celebratory dinner and shopping in charming Copan Ruinas afterwards. The next day, we decided to hit the ruins. The Mayan ruins in Copan are not as much known for its impressive structures (which are nonetheless breathtaking) as for the quality of its sculpture. It boasts beautiful stelae of the ancient kings of Copan and a huge staircase detailing the history of the place. Totally worth seeing. And of course we were huge immature dorks who had to pose photos where we pretended to be sacrificed on altars...naturally.

On Thursday, it was up early again to head to Antigua, Guatemala. Loved being a Honduran resident and not having to pay fees at the border! Antigua is a lovely colonial town with beautiful churches and people from all over the world. We stayed at the Yellow House Hostel - clean, helpful, and full of character. It is run by Ceci, a delightful Paraguayan woman, who was pleasantly surprised to be able to converse with me in Spanish. Tons of people speak English in both Copan and Antigua, and I received many compliments on my Spanish, boosting my already out of control ego. In the wee hours of the morning on Good Friday, people are creating elaborate alfombras (carpets) with colored sand and sawdust, pine needles, flowers, and fruit. They symbolize the cloaks laid down for Jesus on his way to the cross. Unfortunately, it rained for the first time in twenty-some years, so there weren´t so many alfombras and our tour was cancelled. It was rescheduled for the next day, and we still got to see lots of alfombras (we helped make one, although I use the term help loosely)and a procession (we saw multiple over the course of 4 days). The processions are pretty amazing. You can hear them coming with the band that plays the same two melancholy songs and see them by the horde of men in purple robes surrounded by clouds of incense smoke. 80 men carry a huge wooden platform with a figure of Jesus and sway back and forth as they pass over the beautiful alfombras that last too short a time. You can really tell how heavy the platforms are by the women´s faces (they carry a smaller platform with Mary). The whole thing is really quite moving. We also saw a beautiful stations of the cross. The robes change to black with the death of Jesus, and then there is a huge celebration of the Resurrection on Easter Sunday with candy in the streets for the kids.

We had one outside of Antigua adventure. We decided it would be an excellent idea to climb the active volcano Pacaya. My guide book said you were more likely to be hit by molten rock than be robbed or murdered (aren´t you glad I told you about this after the fact, moms?). It was really amazing. No lava due to the eruption in May of last year - kind of a bummer. Our group was great - Italians, Brits, Aussies, Brazilians, French, you name it. It was breathtaking and not too strenous of a hike for me, although I´m much better than I ever thought I could be. That night, we treated ourselves to a lovely dinner. I had a tandoori chicken panini - something I would never have on the Ranch!! We spent Sunday shopping in the colorful market and being accosted by people trying to sell us stuff. The evening was whiled away playing cards with an Israeli doctor we befriended in the hostel.

And all too soon, our vacation came to an end. Krista headed to the Bay Islands, and me back to the Ranch.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

El Batallon


Yesterday, we went on a field trip to the nearby military base. I went with my girls who aren’t in their year of service along with a bunch of the other kids. We met at 7:30 in talleres and went in two different bus trips, between which I sprinted with my girls back to my room to change into tennis shoes. When we arrived, they split the kids up into three different groups based on age. Our first activity was to line up in a military formation and learn commands. Easy peasy for me, thank you very much dance team and drill down. They then sat us down for some “classes.” They were given by some self-important future officers from the academy that I immediately disliked. Especially because one of them surprised me with a question I wasn’t ready for and I claimed not to speak Spanish well which led to him asking me every two seconds if I understood. I was not a happy camper. After two of these classes, we relaxed for a bit and so did the soldiers. They made the mistake of saying they spoke a lot of English and were studying it at the academy. I felt the need to call them out and the kids helped me pressure them into talking with me. They all lightened up, and we had a nice conversation, and they realized that my Spanish was actually quite good. From then on, we were friends. We had lunch there, and then headed off to the obstacle course. My height was quite an advantage and several of the older boys were impressed, which is not easily accomplished. We got to see where the snipers practice and where they do hostage rescue drills. We then walked back to the Ranch, tired and hot but contented.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

A Day in the Life

Post delayed due to my little friend, Influenza.

Monday, March 28th 2011

6:45 a.m. Alarm rings. Press “Aplazar” repeatedly.
7:00 a.m. Actually get up. Get ready ridiculously fast.
7:20 a.m. Walk down to school.
7:30 a.m. Prepare classroom. Open windows, put plants in their place, set out handwashing bucket.
7:40 a.m. Kids sit in the ellipse. Guide opening activities: cambio de fecha, read aloud, review words to be placed on word wall (pared de palabras). Kenia waters plants and works outside with various students.
8:00 a.m. Kids read silently. Read word cards with struggling readers.
8:20 a.m. Work time. Introduce new activities at each kid’s level, write activities in notebooks, supervise and maintain discipline.
9:30 a.m. Take kids to art class. Make a paper elephant.
10:10 a.m. Recess. Cut up watermelon for snack.
10:30 a.m. Take kids to English class. Have a tortilla con quesillo with Kenia in the caseta.
11:10 a.m. Write homework in notebooks while Kenia teaches a lesson on upper and lower case letters in the ellipse.
11:30 a.m. More work time.
12:00 p.m. Kenia teaches physical education. Close up classroom with two kids cleaning the bathrooms. Sweep, mop, wash mop, wring out with bare hands (repress gag reflex).
1:00 p.m. Dismissal. Report to tíos regarding homework and behavior. Half the class stays for after school tutoring.
1:45 p.m. Eat lunch (rice and soup) with other Montessori teachers and kids staying after.
2:30 p.m. Reforzamiento begins. Work with struggling readers, help students to write numbers through 100, reinforce ordinal numbers and directionality.
4:00 p.m. Head home to change shoes.
4:15 p.m. Clean kitchen in San Vicente (where you don’t live). Take out garbage and clean out orgánica (repress gag reflex).
4:45 p.m. Practice with modern dance group in talleres. Get assigned godson Hallan as partner. Do a little happy dance.
6:00 p.m. Go to hogar. Chat outside with Saravia and Tía Mirna.
6:30 p.m. Eat dinner (eggs and beans) with Pilares.
7:00 p.m. Help girls with English homework, listen to music, hang out, talk.
7:45 p.m. Evening prayer. Give hugs and kisses to all the girls. Get hug from the girl who hasn’t talked to you for three days for who knows what reason, but who now has a framed picture of the two of you on her bed. Think about how temperamental teenage girls are. Feel bad for your mom having to deal with you when you were that age.
8:00 p.m. Go home. Crawl in bed. Get called a granny by your roommate (no offense to any grannies reading this, including my own). Fall asleep because you have to do it all over again tomorrow.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

180 Degrees

I have a tough class. Again. One little munchkin in particular was making me particularly insane. He was just really disrespectful and then thought it was funny every time I tried to regañar him. I really would have liked to wipe that smirk right off his face. Anyway, I ended up eating dinner in Casa Suyapa last weekend because my hogar ran out of food. He sat up against my legs and asked me how many dreams I’d caught with my atrapasueños necklace. We ended up having a long discussion about how the filter in my water bottle (thanks, Zeiger Girl Scouts) works. Come Monday, this kid was my best friend. He is working hard and making huge improvements academically. Sound familiar? Just goes to show you can’t underestimate the power of relationship. The other day, one of the little girls told me that this same boy told her I was a princess. I told her it was true.

I Wish I Didn’t Know the Spanish Word for “To Bury”

There is so much death in this place. Last week, we lost one of our abuelos. He was the father of two of our girls here. He had emphysema, so we knew it was going to happen, but it was hard to take. He passed on Father’s Day, and we buried him on what would have been his 73rd birthday. Mourning here is so different. The coffin is brought up to the church for mass, and everyone who wants to can view the body and say their goodbyes. I can’t begin to explain the reaction of the family, the wailing and abject sorrow. We all then made the hike up to the cemetery to bury him. The fact that we have our own cemetery is in itself upsetting for me. During the burial, I was frustrated with the reaction of the Ranch kids. Several of them were upset and crying, but others were laughing and playing around. It seemed so strange to me for them not take it seriously when virtually every one of them has personally experienced the loss of loved ones. I suppose it must be something of a defense mechanism, but it felt disrespectful to me. The reality for me is that my life has been relatively untouched by death. And then I came here. In December, we lost Glenda, one of our special needs girls, Krisly, an 8 year-old with Down Syndrome, and Juan José, a young man in Casa Angeles receiving care for diabetes. On New Year’s Eve, Rosa Lilian David died in a tragic accident. In January, one of our psychologists died suddenly. It just feels like too much, but it also serves as a reminder that I am indeed in the third world as well as a rude awakening of just how the other half lives.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

El Día del Padre

If you think it's strange that we celebrate Father's Day at an orphanage, well...you're not the only one. I was anti-this celebration from the get-go. It seemed like another time-wasting event that might also manage to really upset the children. On top of that, we spent hours and hours creating intricate centerpieces and decorations. We also had to prepare a presentation for the assembly. I somehow managed to end up in charge of this. It would have been fine but, of course, we were doing everything at the last possible moment. The other teachers literally changed their minds FIVE times about whether they wanted a play or a dance. If I'm going to be in charge of something, I want it to look good, and I didn't feel like I could under the circumstances and ended up in tears. One of the other teachers ended up helping me with a little play about an embarrassing dad. Today was the big day, and I'm surprised and pleased to say how much I actually enjoyed it. All the male figures on the Ranch (directors, tíos, teachers, staff) showed up for an assembly in their honor. Our little play went just great even though it was hard to hear the kids (I did the narration). The most important people up front understood it. My favorite part was when they lined up all the honorees and all the kids passed through the line to hug and thank them. I took my little Nataly up with me. We had recess until the kids left at noon, and I got to just play with the kids, which was so refreshing. After cleaning the classroon as per usual, we went to enjoy a special lunch with the "dads." It was great to relax, laugh, and shoot the breeze with the rest of the staff, especially the Montessori girls. I hadn't talked to Momo about the fact that I'd decided not to stay another year, but she mentioned to someone that she didn't want to let me go and they'd be heartbroken, but that there would always be a place for me there. I've been having a hard time, and that was what I needed to hear. And it also felt good to honor some really important people on the Ranch for all they do to fill the father role for these children. Perhaps I should work on being more optimistic in general.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Volunteer Housing AKA Musical Chairs

You may remember from an earlier blog that before I came home for a visit, I had to pack up all my belongings to be moved while I was gone. I feel the need to elaborate on the theme. San Vicente (Casa Personal) was in need of some serious remodeling. All the wood had to be ripped out because it was moldy and disgusting and the roof was structurally unsound. They started work on my hallway in January. When I came back, five of us were living in Casita Buen Pastor by where the tíos live. Tiffany, Patricia, and Sona were in one bedroom with three beds, and Leila and I shared the master bedroom with one queen size bed. When Leila left, I had a room, bathroom, and closet to myself. I would have preferred to have Leila stay, but I wasn’t about to complain about having my own room. The casita has its own kitchen and common area, which made it really fun to have visitors. I loved living with those girls, the remaining ones from my original volunteer group. We were supposed to move back to San Vicente when the rooms were ready, and I was going to get to have my own room since there was one extra space (the volunteer coordinator Lauren was moving to another building) and I’m the veteran. Well, we got the call today that EVERYONE had to move…except me. We four girls wanted to stay here in the casita, but that was not to be. Lauren’s new room was taken by a nun who has come to live on the Ranch. So, Tiff, Patri, and Sona moved into the newly renovated rooms. They are quite lovely, but they lack any sort of shelving as well as a door to the bathroom because apparently the money ran out. Mmhmm. Lauren is moving in with me, and two of the new volunteers DeeDee and Micaela are moving into the other room in the casita. Supposedly the rooms in the other hallway will be done in 2-3 weeks (why do I doubt that?), and Lauren and I will move into her old room. At least I’ll have hot water, but possibly nowhere to put my things. Trying not to complain too much because the rooms are really nice. And the poor new volunteers are finally getting to move after being in the dorms at the far end of San Vicente for way too long. But it’s hard to feel settled when you have to move cada rato and things change at the drop of a hat.

Being Asian in Honduras

Means…

You are Chinese. Even when you thoughtfully explain that your biological father was born in Vietnam and your mom is a gringa, you are misunderstood. When you further explain that Vietnam is a country to the south of China, it is then assumed that you are in fact Japanese.

To get your attention on the streets of Tegucigalpa, people yell “china” (Chinese girl).

Your closest Honduran friends lovingly refer to you as “chinita” (little Chinese girl).

When they see the scene where the Chinese girl dances in the latest Karate Kid movie, all the girls scream your name.

Children ask you if you can do karate and tell you to put your hair in a bun “like they do in your country.”

Adults ask you if you are related to Bruce Lee. You say no, you are related to Jackie Chan.

You start to make off-color racial jokes because it is so normal here (see above).

When you are making a sample coat of arms for the first grade “Who am I?” unit and you draw in one of the squares what you want to be (in my case, a mom), your teaching partner edits the drawing of you and your baby so that they have slanty eyes. Seriously.

You despair when one of the abuelitas tells you that you must not be from the United States because you look different. You then have a little personal celebration when she says you don’t look Chinese, but CATRACHA!!!

Monday, March 7, 2011

Finally...

a good day at school. It’s been a rough first 18 days, let me tell you. Between the two of us, Kenia and I have 12 first graders, but it feels like a lot more. They have really been pushing me. I’ve never been around kids who just don’t listen and whose immediate reaction to direction is to say “no.” Maybe the dance team girls. ;) And between sharing a classroom and the constraints of the system and the culture, I sometimes find it difficult to work my magic, if you will. But I’m doing what I know to be best practice, and I’m seeing results. I’m giving choices (thank you, Donna Egge and Love and Logic and MOM): You can play now and work during recess or work now and play during recess. I'm taking away privileges when they are disrespectful, whether that is going to a special class or the right to be in the classroom itself. I’m using humor. I literally sat on a kid until he stopped saying no. Hmph…try that in the United States! I’m using wait time. That sometimes means we sit in the ellipse for a really long time. I’m using discipline based in love and relationship. We had our first art class with Dorie today, and I heard Cathy Crossen in my ear and decided to do the project with the kids. I’m giving hugs and kisses because I can and because these kids need it. Momo came up to me and thanked me for backing her up during a pedagogical discussion with the other teachers. Those who have been in my classroom know that I have always placed more importance on content than presentation. And that is so not Honduras. I just don’t think a first grader should have to redo his science classwork five times to make sure the spelling and handwriting are perfect, and Momo is with me on that. But it’s hard to convince people who were educated in such a different way. Sorry I haven’t written in a long time. I’d been feeling pretty down and wanted to wait until I had something good to say. And now I do.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Fumigation

I feel the need to describe this most odd of experiences. Everyone once in awhile, all the hogars need to be sprayed for bugs and undesirable creatures. This means that all the kids must vacate for an entire day and night. Casa Suyapa (little kids) sleeps in the building adjacent to the church, Buen Pastor (boys) sleeps in the school, and Talita Kumi (girls) sleeps in talleres (the workshops). The younger girls were in classrooms, but the older girls had to sleep in the auditorium. They all spent Friday night packing up their lockers and shoving everything into the middle of the room. Saturday morning, they brought their overnight stuff down to talleres. Metal benches were pushed together and beds set up on top of them to create a sea of humanity, mattresses, blankets, sheets, and pillows. We worked raking in the the morning and then after mass, the tias set up a TV and DVD player so we could watch movies. Dinner was unusually delicious, with my favorite piping hot sweet milk (lactose intolerant, schmatose intolerant). After watching Mannequin (one of my favorite movies growing up - hooray for the 80s), I curled up with Deisy for the worst night's sleep I've had since I got here. It was cold and terribly uncomfortable, but I wouldn't have traded the experience. I love being able to be in solidarity with my girls. That said, I hope it doesn't happen again in the next 5 months!

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Mis Hijas


Things are settling down, and I’m getting back into a routine, which is always good for me. And the best part of coming home after a long, hard day is going to spend time with my hogar daughters. I love to do things for them, whether it’s baking them a birthday cake, making them valentines, or lending out my nail polish. They are always so appreciative and do so much for me in return. They were so excited when I showed up in my first pair of skinny jeans the other day. Just about everyone told me how guapa I looked and congratulated me on being more gordita as well. Nuvia insisted on taking a pair of my regular jeans and making them skinny jeans in the sewing taller, and they fit me perfectly! Then there is Estefany, who is my go-to person for a good hug, kiss, and “I love you.” We bonded as tías during Christmas and have been even closer since I took her to the clinic with a serious injury and held her hand as they bandaged her up. I love those moments when I get to feel like a mom. Saravia is the one who keeps me sane, most recently by scrounging me up some delicious food on sopa de menudo (chicken foot soup) night. Kerberling is doing her year of service in Montessori and is newly excited to see me every morning. She made my day when she told me that it’s not just any volunteer that is accepted by the girls and that they trust me and feel like I understand them. Sheila is always game for an impromptu dance or karaoke party and brightens the room with her infectious laugh. She’s also mastered ye olde, “Good night. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.” There have been changes in the hogar, but thanks to cell phones, I’m getting sweet little text messages and occasionally even phone calls from my girls outside the Ranch. And the newbies are all girls I know from Inmaculada and all accept my goodnight hugs. Even though that 6:00-8:00 p.m. window is part of my required time, I glad to say it doesn’t usually feel like work. And to think that when I got here, I was adamant about wanting a boys hogar. When we did our rotation, I didn’t even visit Pilares. Now, I can’t imagine my life here without them. Sometimes things really do work out for the best.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Changes

I'm experiencing a lot of them, and we all know how well I do with those. Things at the Ranch were absolutely crazy following the end of the school year, with major emotional ups and downs. But I was feeling important and needed and getting the praise I so much need. When I was at home, I couldn't wait to get back. And now that I'm here, things just feel...strange. I got lice, had a big disagreement with someone, experienced a loss, and got stolen from. On top of that, I was taking some time to relax and just going to hogar and planning Visitor Day for the kids without visitors, and I don't do well without enough to do. I know I deserved the break and had been given it by my boss, but somehow I ended up feeling guilty. We're getting ready to start the school year and I'm feeling disenchanted. I forgot how much cleaning up of mouse and cockroach poop it involves. I'm ready to just get back into my old routine, but it's just not quite right with old volunteers leaving and new ones here. All the employees who have been gone for two months are back at work. I'm living away from Casa Personal because of the remodel. And my hogar is changing, which I hate. Three girls went off to high school, two are working in Tegus in Casa Angeles, half will probably pass to the next hogar, and most are doing their year of service so that I hardly see them. There have been bright moments: Gabi falling asleep on my lap and carrying her across the Ranch to put her to bed; playing with our consentidos in the baby house with Saravia; a gift of a blanket from Magda who is leaving for Choluteca so I never forget her. In those moments, I don't know how I could ever leave. And other days, I don't know how I'll make it six more months.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Lice

I have them. Saravia found them. Norma gave me shampoo to kill them. One of the tias in the baby house picked them out. And I have so much pena.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Being Home

A list of things I love:

1)Quality time with my amazing friends and family.

2)Cuddling with my kitties.

3)Flushing my toilet paper.

4)Hot showers.

5)Flavors.

6)Spending the day at Zeiger and feeling absolutely adored by children. It also helped to be told by staff and parents how great I look (healthy reminder of the heartbroken pit of despair I was in before I left and how much the Ranch has healed me).

7)Dates with Grandma: Seattle Art Museum, Seattle Opera, and Bookers.

8)The fact that Sister moved home the same time as my visit.

9)Seeing the new Harry Potter with Mich and sharing an epic crepe.

10)Visiting my old Spanish class and having the other guest speaker (the firefighter from Spain) insist that I must have some Latin in me because my Spanish is just that good.

AND...Spreading the word about NPH. Whether it is getting a huge suitcase full of donations from the Zeiger Girl Scout troop or friends donating everything from flat irons to nail polish for the girls or facilitating new sponsorships. I love sharing about this organization that is so close to my heart, and I love that people in my life have taken an interest in it.

A list of things I don't love:

I freaking MISS the Ranch. I miss speaking Spanish. I miss the volunteers. I miss my babies. And I miss my girls. Ready to go home. You know, the other one.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Brigade

Three or four times a year, a medical brigade comes to the Ranch to do orthopedic surgeries for kids here as well as people in the surrounding community. The surgery center was built by the Daly family, and they bring a huge group down every year. The work they do is amazing, but managing 60 extra people is definitely a major undertaking. Well, our volunteer visitor coordinator (my friend and roommate Marie) had to leave the Ranch, and since I worked for her during her vacation and was planning on helping with the brigade, it fell to me. On the 2nd, I came off 12 straight days of work in hogar (the last four of which I slept there) to start prepping for the brigade to get here the 5th. Fortunately, I’d already done a general schedule as well as one for meals and hogar assignments. So my work involved getting rooms ready, arranging for materials to be purchased, moving furniture, cleaning (working with the tías to get girls to help), managing last minute visitors (including putting one in the vacant bed in my own room), answering my phone every 5 minutes, and generally running around and putting out fires. Fortunately, I hac Reinhart’s daughter to Camila to help (she’s a godsend), and Ross gave me saldo and cash without even blinking.

I had to go to the airport FOUR times, which is a 3-hour round trip on the worst, dustiest, potholiest highway on Planet Earth. Going to the airport means confirming transport, picking up visitors, tipping the baggage guys, getting everyone something to eat, doing a mini-orientation, running errands, and getting everyone settled in their rooms. While they’re here, I’m the go-to girl. I make sure they know where to go and when, answer questions about the Ranch, make sure they have water and get fed, etc. It’s A LOT of work, but the group is really great. I'm especially enjoying the girls who are students and are staying in the volunteer house. They are planning my marriage to someone who shall remain unnamed.

The best part has been that through the experience, Reinhart and Momo have become my adopted parents. They invite me to eat, Momo fixes me up with her naturopathic remedies when I’m sick, and Reinhart now calls me his conse. I’ve been such a stress case, but the volunteers have been so awesome. Whether it’s Lauren getting me keys copied and hanging up my laundry or Trip handling last minute maintenance issues or Jessie taking care of the water or Pete and Bryan picking things up for me in the city or Leila making sure I use positive self-talk, I don’t know what I’d do without them.

I managed to go to mass five times in four days. I’m not Catholic, but I go regularly here, and I really enjoy the priest that came with the group. He was born in Nigeria and now lives in Chicago and speaks a bajillion languages. I even went up to do one of the readings. I also get to have seriously legit Italian dinners every night they’re here, so that’s awesome. Another bonus of having so many doctors here: being able to grab one and get antibiotics for my swollen ankle due to infected bugbites (just what I needed).

The worst part was finding out Sunday night after another 14 hour day that I had to move all my stuff out of my room so they can start doing construction before I left (Tuesday morning). I got so stressed out that I had a half-hour nose bleed. I was literally leaning over my sink bleeding and bawling. Again, volunteers to the rescue. Real friends become your personal RN and bleach out your bloody sink (Tiffany). Real friends mop up your blood off the floor and help pack your bags (Patri and Sona). Real friends hold you even when you're disgusting, make you go to bed, and promise to pack everything you don't need for home (Pete).

In the end, everything went well. Lulu said this was the most organized they'd ever been, Ross told me I was a rockstar every day, and Stefan told me repeatedly they'd be dead without me. Jessie is taking the job over on a more permanent basis, so when I get home, I'll get some much needed downtime.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Rosa Lilian




Rosa was an energetic, loving 16 year-old girl who most impressed me with how she cared for her 5 siblings here at the Ranch. She was in Inmaculada, the hogar just below mine. She was on my Olimipiadas team two years in a row and part of the soccer team that went to El Salvador. Her family came here during my first visit, and I had a special bond with her because she was also the beloved goddaughter of my dear friend Laura. She always had a smile and a hug for me. We lost Rosa on New Year’s Eve due to a tragic accident at the house in Tegucigalpa.

I knew something was wrong the second I saw Lauren’s face in my doorway. It was 6:00 p.m., and we had all just been called to the church. I made her tell me before we went, but I didn’t process it until Reinhart announced it. I just started crying, sitting next to Estefany and holding hands. We had dinner all together on the courts, but all activities were obviously cancelled. I went immediately to Saravia, knowing she was a stronger person than me, as much for comfort as to make sure she knew how much I loved her, realizing all too vividly how quickly a life can be taken away. She took care of me all night and it struck me how well she knows me. Reinhart gave me the hug only a dad or grandpa can give, made the sign of the cross on my forehead, and gave me permission to cry and not be strong. As always, the volunteers were a source of comfort and strength.

Rosa’s brothers and sisters were all together in Santa María Reina. I went to see my little Gabi, “mi hija” and the youngest, who still didn’t understand what had happened. The oldest, Eda, has cerebral palsy and is unable to really walk or talk. I can’t express what it was like to hear to her utter despair as she cried. I found Deysi inconsolable back at the hogar. She had just come from seeing Bryan at the clinic. Bryan is my godson and, although not officially her boyfriend, in love with Rosa. He was shaking uncontrollably and asking for Deysi to call Rosa and tell her to come. We had to physically restrain him to keep him in the bed. It was horrible. I ended up alone with him in the room and held him in my arms as he sobbed and begged to see her until I coaxed him to sleep. I think the worst, though, was having to call Laura and tell her. I love Laura with all my heart, and it broke me to have to give her the news.

Following dinner, we had rosaries in the chapel every half hour. I sat with my arms around my girls as we prayed for Rosa. They brought her body back to the Ranch at 1:00 in the morning, and a small group of us headed back to the chapel. I can’t begin to describe the grief I saw from her siblings, friends, Stefan, and Tía Mirna who brought Rosa’s family to the Ranch. And I was not prepared to see Rosa. It just wasn’t her underneath that glass, and I had to look a long time to really register that it was her. I’ve never dealt with death like this, and I feel numb. My tears are used up, and I’m left feeling like maybe it was all a bad dream.