Getting the hang of it

Last week one of the kids was “snacking” on a spice shaker full of hot pepper powder. Several other kids were jealously asking for a taste. He had taken the lid off and was pouring it down like I can remember doing with the sugar at the bottom of a Sour Patch Kids bag. (Granted, it’s not too hard to remember from probably only a few months ago.) To each his own, I suppose, but I had to laugh as my eyes were watering at the thought how it would burn my own throat. One can not define the word “candy” while attempting to avoid ethnocentrism at the same time, I suppose.

Some of you have asked me if I have grown accustomed to the food, but really, we’re not eating food like what you’d think of when you imagine the Mexican cuisine. Mostly we are eating a lot of processed meats and high starched, fatty foods that have been donated. Apparently the kids here won’t eat the fresh fruit, so the cooks make it into fruit water drinks. Vegetables don’t go over well either, so they are usually served in some form that leaves a nice shiny glow on your plate when you’ve finished. The other morning the cooks asked me if I had already eaten, and I stuttered for a moment because they were serving beans with hot dog pieces in them and tortillas, and I just didn’t know if I could go for that sort of thing in the morning again, when I’d probably had it in some form the day before. I didn’t want to lie, but she could sense my hesitation and said, “Would you like some yogurt and apples?” Ahh, sigh of relief. I walked out with a full container of peach yogurt and four delicious green apples. Saved. The cooks were told that the Americans like healthy food and therefore, they are happy to offer fresh food to us whenever they can and we in turn are grateful to take it off their hands.

We work Sundays through Thursdays and enjoy Fridays and Saturdays off to get lost on the unmarked bus routes as we head to the market, catch a movie, or enjoy delicious tacos and tamales. I’m thankful to have these days off because some of the kids here at La Granja wait by the fence, sometimes waiting all weekend, for relatives who do not always come to pick them up. I know it must sound a bit selfish that I don’t want to be here to see that and be here for the kids then, but honestly I don’t understand all their situations at home and I don’t know if I should be happy for them or worry about them if someone does come to take them for the weekend. If they are here, I at least know that they are safe. I’m not sure how everything works and what efforts are made to protect the children as far as where they go on the weekends, but since I am not a part of that process I feel that staying out of it—at least currently—is probably best for avoiding becoming overwhelmed and discouraged.

One of the aspects of the environment here that the sisters are trying to change little by little is the issue of rewards and consequences. Punishments are usually in some form of a chore, and they are infrequent, randomly assigned, and often do not match the severity of the particular misbehavior. I also have no real way of enforcing them and am also without rewards for the ones who are following directions or playing in a friendly manner. When Luis and I are trying to get the younger boys to shower and go to bed on Sunday nights, if we ask them to stop running or fighting, what can we do if twenty of them choose not to listen? It’s total chaos, and sometimes it really gets to us when we feel like we are being walked all over by a group of nine year-olds. The voices from those who have been here longer have such a greater impact, so we are hoping that before the year is over, our voices will as well. Poco a poco, the sisters keep telling us. They know this is difficult and that the kids are more than difficult to control, but, little by little is all we can do.

The other day I was putting the youngest kids down for their siesta and thought it would be a good idea to give each one of them a hug when they got into bed, as a way of calming them down and creating some kind of routine. I figure that there’s no way they are getting enough hugs, and this would be something I could offer to them. However, when I tried out my idea, it turned into a game and the girls were hopping out of bed and trying to give hugs to everyone in the room and giggling and laughing and doing everything besides quieting down for a nap. A while later and after several (nearly empty) threats I had everyone settled and in their beds again. I’ve decided to maybe try offering hugs when I am waking each one of them up after naps instead, in an attempt to avoid emotional exhaustion and complete frustration on my part. Some days I am learning more quickly than others.

Last week we met with Maria del Mar, the sister in charge of our work schedules and placements. Luis is going to keep pretty much the same schedule, and I made a couple minor changes. First of all, I’m not going to help the youngest girls with their hair in the mornings anymore because there’s another woman who’s there every day and has them almost finished by the time I was getting there. This is wonderful because my workday starts now at 9:30 instead of 6:30, which is a huge gift if you have ever witnessed my superb early-rising skills. When my day starts at 9:30 now, I’m helping in the laundry room until 11:00. The idea is that I will be taking two girls each day to help them find a few sets of clothing that they like and that fit them well. The women who work in the laundry room typically have to estimate the sizes of the girls for their clothes, and often they’re not a good fit. I have been working a couple of days in the laundry room so far, though, and haven’t been able to start this process, so we’ll see how this goes. A huge perk about the schedule change is that now I’m with the youngest kids for another hour each day and can plan any activities I’d like to do with them. From 11-12:00, the hour before their nap, I’ll be with half of the kids while their teacher, Ester, has the other half. She’s asked me to teach them any songs and games I know, so I’ve been trying to translate anything I can remember. The other day we sang, “Cabeza, hombros, rodillas y pies.” If you can’t figure out what that is, you have a bit of homework to do!

The other day we had a meeting for the after-school program staff. Just as I was about to completely daze out due to mental exhaustion from concentrating on rapid Spanish for so long, Toñita, the coordinator, looked at me and said, “Oh, and Janiene, we have a very special job for you.” Luis (who was starting to day dream as well, but for no excuse that I’d accept) and I both perked up. It looks like my “special job” is going to be some form of anger therapy with two kids in my after-school room who severely need extra attention. It also looks like I am being assigned to this job because of my “experience with children with problems.” Luis assures me that I conveyed my work experience accurately when explaining to one of the nuns about my college degree and one-on-one work with a student with learning disabilities. Somehow, that was translated into my being an outstanding candidate for an anger therapist. Granted, I am thrilled to be offered the challenge because I have really been hoping for an opportunity to take on some responsibility here in order to really make a difference. I don’t mind if I work with two children closely or a hundred in a group. I just want to offer the education I have received and the experiences I’ve had as a member of a loving family and community, somehow, in some way, as gifts to the kids here. I guess this is my chance!

My Aunt Marjorie suggested that I keep a journal with positive experiences with the kids here so that I can look back on them years down the road as well as while I am here and searching, some days, for purpose. I’ll share with you one of my first entries because I think that it may be a rare one with this child. Shortly after leaving the meeting where I was assigned my new job (details to come later when I understand them myself), I saw one of the two kids I’m going to be working with outside on the playground equipment. I decided to catch him in action while he was not upset or causing any trouble, and try to make the first move. I hung around him for a little while, just talking to him and enjoying the fact that he wasn’t sticking his tongue out or making rude faces in my direction, as usual. After a few minutes, a soccer ball appeared from nowhere and somehow, magically, we played together for a solid twenty minutes or so, without interruption or any negative behavior or comments. I can’t explain to you in worlds how exciting it felt to have my first experience with him that wasn’t negative in some way. When it was time for us to all leave the playground and head in for dinner, I even got a high five. My breath stopped for a moment, I’d say. I think I walked away floating just a bit, the slap from his hand still stinging my palm, and “thank you, thank you, thank you” running through my head as I thought about how most of the days to come with him would not leave me with such a light feeling. I will most definitely look back on this day after many of my more difficult days with him, and I will be waiting for his name to be in my journal again soon as a day we shared success.

Thank you all for your prayers and continued support, and until next time, que le vaya bien. Much love, Janiene