I'm seated wearily but contentedly at the small family kitchen table. Fabricio is sipping coffee and responding in monosyllables. Azucena is slicing broccoli animatedly. Oh wow! Fabricio just stretched his head the furthest out of his shell I've seen thus far- he's picked up my book and, laughingly, is trying to read it aloud in English.
Today Lau Lau and I started our new morning job in a guardaria--a sort of preschool/holding center for kids whose parents (or parent-singular in most cases) are unable to keep them during the day. It is a completely different experience in many ways than working at Don Bosco's Casa Amigos. Although the leadership is much worse at this guardaria, I felt, finally, that familiar internal numbing of my own cares and woes (that I've gotten so used to at Louise's camps) while I attended to the constant sobbing and falling and fighting and wandering of these two and three year olds. This is a new "batch" of thirteen, the group I'm working with, still trying to come to terms with their temporary abandonment during the day. This one girl always asks "mommy?" when she runs to me, reminding me of that children's book Are you my Mother? When Lau Lau and I arrived, the whole group was running amok in a small classroom with only one woman. Almost the entire lot was menacingly throwing toys and hitting each other. In an attempt to come up with something quickly, I had them help me make familiar designs out of these dinky plastic objects. They all followed suit when I put on my super-excited-to-be-making-a-crudely-shaped-cat-out-of-irregularly-shaped-flimsy-plastic-object-face and settled down for the most part. After a little while, they became incredibly obedient, fetching me more plastic objects, beaming. It is fascinating to be working with such malleable little human beings. My attention, smile, or hug can make all the difference in the moment, and right now their lives seem to be that--lots of little moments all strung together. Anyway, the hour and a half that I was with these kids they broke my heart a little. Sometimes i had to blink back tears. My favorite was the one that looked uncannily like a three-year old version of Barack Obama. I tried to tell him that but I don't think it really registered. haha.
LauLau and I took the bus south to Casa Amigos. Despite shockingly limited materials and an utter scarcity of help, I managed to organize small groups of kids to begin painting the mural. Andrea's (my ecuadorian/suiss friend) last day was today, although I missed most of the ceremonial departure as I was trying furiously to rid my hands of their coat of impenetrable oil paint.
After work, a general air of femininity descended. Lau Lau and I ate ice cream on the lawn of the Casa de la Cultura and shared various girlie anecdotes about boys. Back at my house, Lau Lau, Azucena, and I had a really girlie conversation about weight and appearance (i was more a listener on this one). Haha and NOW, a minute ago, as I was in the middle of writing this entry in my room by lamplight, "uncle" Juan Carlos came in and plopped down chest first on my bed- head propped up on his palms, legs flopping around sillily in the air, and commenced the most uncharacteristic batch of giddy schoolgirl talk!! He began awkwardly recounting how today he made a paper flower for this English teacher at his university and went to her classroom to tell her he had liked her for two months. Then, after mildly demolishing my book with nervous fidgety energy, he started helplessly asking advice about whether he should ask her out for a drink or ask if she's single first. And the whole time we're having this girl talk, he's sort of grinning bashfully and giggling! Very weird. The verdict: he's gonna keep me updated. haha.
Today Lau Lau and I started our new morning job in a guardaria--a sort of preschool/holding center for kids whose parents (or parent-singular in most cases) are unable to keep them during the day. It is a completely different experience in many ways than working at Don Bosco's Casa Amigos. Although the leadership is much worse at this guardaria, I felt, finally, that familiar internal numbing of my own cares and woes (that I've gotten so used to at Louise's camps) while I attended to the constant sobbing and falling and fighting and wandering of these two and three year olds. This is a new "batch" of thirteen, the group I'm working with, still trying to come to terms with their temporary abandonment during the day. This one girl always asks "mommy?" when she runs to me, reminding me of that children's book Are you my Mother? When Lau Lau and I arrived, the whole group was running amok in a small classroom with only one woman. Almost the entire lot was menacingly throwing toys and hitting each other. In an attempt to come up with something quickly, I had them help me make familiar designs out of these dinky plastic objects. They all followed suit when I put on my super-excited-to-be-making-a-crudely-shaped-cat-out-of-irregularly-shaped-flimsy-plastic-object-face and settled down for the most part. After a little while, they became incredibly obedient, fetching me more plastic objects, beaming. It is fascinating to be working with such malleable little human beings. My attention, smile, or hug can make all the difference in the moment, and right now their lives seem to be that--lots of little moments all strung together. Anyway, the hour and a half that I was with these kids they broke my heart a little. Sometimes i had to blink back tears. My favorite was the one that looked uncannily like a three-year old version of Barack Obama. I tried to tell him that but I don't think it really registered. haha.
LauLau and I took the bus south to Casa Amigos. Despite shockingly limited materials and an utter scarcity of help, I managed to organize small groups of kids to begin painting the mural. Andrea's (my ecuadorian/suiss friend) last day was today, although I missed most of the ceremonial departure as I was trying furiously to rid my hands of their coat of impenetrable oil paint.After work, a general air of femininity descended. Lau Lau and I ate ice cream on the lawn of the Casa de la Cultura and shared various girlie anecdotes about boys. Back at my house, Lau Lau, Azucena, and I had a really girlie conversation about weight and appearance (i was more a listener on this one). Haha and NOW, a minute ago, as I was in the middle of writing this entry in my room by lamplight, "uncle" Juan Carlos came in and plopped down chest first on my bed- head propped up on his palms, legs flopping around sillily in the air, and commenced the most uncharacteristic batch of giddy schoolgirl talk!! He began awkwardly recounting how today he made a paper flower for this English teacher at his university and went to her classroom to tell her he had liked her for two months. Then, after mildly demolishing my book with nervous fidgety energy, he started helplessly asking advice about whether he should ask her out for a drink or ask if she's single first. And the whole time we're having this girl talk, he's sort of grinning bashfully and giggling! Very weird. The verdict: he's gonna keep me updated. haha.
No comments:
Post a Comment