a bit of Dear Diary...

We finally made our way back again after several weeks with family and friends in Illinois. Christina and Tommy’s wedding was beautiful, and the mixed tape they made for everyone has been played at least few hundred times already. My toenails are still painted purple. As far as I know, we are under the impression we are still loved by our incredibly generous friends, Justin and Laura, who opened their home to us for the unknown extended period of time that everyone warned was too long for us to be houseguests. We made it to Luis’ niece Vanessa’s first communion party that we were originally going to miss, and ended up celebrating Luis’ birthday with chocolate cupcakes and Justin, Al, Katie and April instead of over dinner from the big-yellow-van-taco-stand that we like here near La Granja. I held my handsome new baby cousin, Gus, and was amazed at how the voices of my preteen nieces have changed tremendously over the year as they suddenly grew into young ladies. It was incredible how busy we became over the days that we weren’t supposed to be there. Suddenly, Sara and Emil needed a babysitter for Max on Friday and, if you’re still here, would you like to come over and watch him? If you’re still here on Saturday, can you come to the cookout? Katie’s soccer game on Sunday? If you’re still here on Monday, what do you want to do for Luis’ birthday? If you don’t leave before Wednesday, can you come celebrate Maria’s birthday, too? How about Mother’s Day on Sunday? And so it went. We were not bored, no worries. It was a great trip.

The kids gave me tons of great hugs when they came back yesterday afternoon—so much for the antibacterial gel craze… just not gonna happen. There were about 20-some kids who didn’t have a place to go while the school was closed for two weeks, and they unfortunately had the job of sanitizing the entire home. I’ve heard they were quite bored, not allowed to leave the grounds to go to the center or a park or anywhere. Even the TV was getting old. That says a lot for them.

I think we hurt people’s feelings here by putting off our return. Many people asked me if I was afraid of the flu, and a few people expressed that they were very upset about the blame that Mexico is receiving from the United States and even, from the rest of the world. It’s embarrassing and unjustified. When something bad happens in this country, everything is blown way out of proportion and accusations are strong, I was told. The sisters are very proud of the way Mexico handled the outbreak and lots of people boasted that there is more swine flu in the US than in Mexico right now. The whole situation is frustrating and uncomfortable, and I hope it’s all completely behind us soon.

Today I was trying to get back into the swing of things, but I found it to be a bit tricky. When we came back on Friday night, we found out that now we’re sharing our kitchen space with two girls who just graduated from high school and are volunteering here until the week before we leave in July, we think. It’s a pretty big adjustment for us, actually. I think if we’d started the year sharing the space, it’d be fine. We’ve pretty much had that place to ourselves for the whole year, though, and it feels like now they’re encroaching on our space. I’m sure we’ll get more used to having them around, but right now it feels pretty much like two teenagers just moved into our personal apartment. A change for us on the plus side has been that construction started in a building near our home, and thanks to the new temporary fences, kids aren’t walking in front of our windows anymore. In that respect we have gained privacy and a bit of quiet—well, from the kids’ voices on our days off, but not from the occasional jackhammer, of course—in our little home.

Another part that is slightly complicated for me is that some of my jobs were filled by other people while we were gone. Gaby, a teacher’s aide in kindergarten, teased me that our seats were filled when our butts weren’t here to sit in them. Honestly, though, I had to ask to keep my job of taking the littlest for their nap, because otherwise that was going to be the responsibility of the other volunteers, Chayo and Pita. The other time I spend with the kindergarteners in the morning is being “taken care of” by the two girls, but I’ll still come early two days a week to help with the P.E. class. In the afternoons, starting tomorrow, two other volunteers are coming to give sports classes in the afternoon. There goes half of my afternoon work. It’s fine, I don’t mean to be complaining. I guess it makes sense that things would come full circle near the end of the year. We won’t be here that much longer, I know. It just feels disappointing to spend so many months here before being trusted with specific responsibilities and then to only have them for a couple of months before they’re passed on to someone else. I asked one of the sisters what I should do now in the afternoons when I’m not taking my boxing group of kids to the farm, and she told me to give an extra hand to Karen and the 1st and 2nd graders. That’s was my job when I first got here. Maybe it just seems like the year went so fast, but it feels rushed to already start pulling myself out of a staff role here. I’ll still be hanging out with the kids, listening and talking with them, which is my most important job here, I know. I guess just for the adult in me, it’s nice to know what’s expected and to be counted on for something specific. Maintaining the energy and creativity for the jobs I had wasn’t coming that easily to me anymore though, anyway, and I was really struggling some days to think of ideas of things to do with the kids and the patience to carry them out. Some days before we left for the trip in April I felt like I was leaning on Luis an unfair share. I’m sure that these changes will be best for everyone, and I just need to find my place again and make the most of the time I have left with the kids. Mentally, I feel like I’m getting ready for the year’s experience to be coming to an end as well. It’s quite the emotional roller coaster from start to finish.

Uriel came to box with me yesterday without hassle or a tremendous convincing effort on my part. Estefania told me several times excitedly that she was turning ten years old. Marisa made the transition from training wheels to riding her bicycle solo, and I was able to witness this on Sunday afternoon. I combed at least twelve living, crawling lice out of Lizeth’s hair in the dorm bathroom on Sunday night. Martha threw her finger in my face yesterday and reminded me that I needed to put wart medicine on her finger. Lucia told me about her new boyfriend that she met while she was at home these past two weeks. This worries me because in her community, she is older than most girls who are not married yet. She wants to be a nurse and I really want for her to be able to go to school. Maria del Mar agrees that she will get pregnant if she leaves here, but what can you do? I pulled several kids around on the concrete while they sat on lids and held on to plastic tubes which I yanked so they could slide around in the 90˚ full sun during P.E. class. Tania fell asleep three times sitting up in her bed after naptime. I have to sit her in the middle of her bed when I wake her up so that she won’t fall off if she falls asleep and flops back down on the bed. Aron has a permanently runny nose which needed unclogging before waking him up yesterday. Francia asked me questions about kissing Luis and giggled before I could answer. I said of course, he’s my husband and then quickly changed the topic. She didn’t want to talk about anything else, though, so she left.

I think this is what they were getting at when they asked us to just come and be with the kids. I didn’t know for a long, long time what that meant.

The flowering pomegranate tree in our yard will have fruit before we leave, I’ve been repeatedly assured. With aching I will miss affordable avocados, a kiss on the cheek for any greeting or departure, and deep, manly laughs from Ana Elisa, age 5, when it is time to go. Just try to take each day as it comes, I suppose.

Love to you all,
Janiene