July 9, 2008

I think i'll spare you guys the large portion of this particularly introspective entry

4:40 PM
Today I've stayed home, sick, missing a trip with the kids to a nearby pool. This is a shame, because I had taught a lot of the Clapping Hands Farm games to my fellow workers and was looking forward to seeing how they would translate (some had to change a bit due to my linguistic disabilities-- for instance, happy clams became happy oysters). But here I am at the house, oozing, and dripping, and making a general mess of myself. Emotionally, I feel solidly well. Content and contemplative.

[it is here that you are spared my five-page musings on initiative-taking and the revelation of clarity regarding the direction and scope of my humanitarian ambitions.]

Today, I solved my year-long query as to the differences between guayaba and guanábana. Guayaba is guava, and guanábana is this spiky green football filled inside with shiny black seeds, each trailed by comet-tails of pulpy, almost artificial-tasting soursweet frut. mmm! I ate about half of one while discussing abortion and love with Azucena.

Yesterday, I got to work at 10:30. I had, what I'm pretty sure will be my last morning of lonely uselessness (that even helping Rosita didn't help). Then, in the afternoon, I felt the best ever!!! While Soraya (my sort of mysterious colombian co-worker who I need to describe in more depth soon) was downstairs helping cook a colossal meal for the kids' pool trip today, I got to lead the class! We made paintings out of crushed egg shells, and they turned out so creative! What a rush! Me with my spanish working with my kids, making suggestions, keeping them under control, getting some great work out of them and really bonding with a lot of them! I have been putting off talking about the kids until I know them all a little better to avoid feeling like i'm just putting semi-anonymous sad stories on display. But I realize I should give a sort of general idea. The kids in Casa Amigas (our particular branch of Don Bosco in the south) come from really poor areas in the south, many from broken homes. A lot of them work on the street, selling odds and ends, and from what I've gathered have a lot of trouble in school. This last part really surprised me, because from talking to them and watching them take on craft projects, I can safely say that none of them are slow nor lazy. My only conclusion is that their environments aren't conducive to reading and studying, affording little free time, home support, materials, etc.

When I went down to the kitchen to talk to Jordin about an alternative project for me in the mornings, I encountered a tense emotional session (exacerbated by everyone's onion tears) in which he and Daniel, as coordinators, were being sort of verbally accosted about the paucity of materials. Jordin and Daniel were great, calmly listening for what I believe was an hour and modestly taking critiques into serious consideration. It really is a great group of people even when tensions are flying.

What was finally worked out is that I will work with Mary Angela (the rat-tailed italian) in the mornings in Conocoto at a sort of summer camp. Details have yet to be arranged, but i'm feeling poised.