The other volunteers have left so it’s only me, the four adults, and 18 chilluns’. I spend most of my time with the babies. I usually have Deborah or Donna with me, but when you’re around a certain group of people more than anyone else, you tend to bond with them; even if they don’t talk.
I’ve never been around babies before, so I started out as a student in baby-caring. I used to be afraid of caring for them; they seem so fragile and innocent, like I could infect them just by touching them. And I didn’t know what to do with them; people always talk to them, but it’s not like the kid can understand them, and bouncing them up and down makes you look ridiculous. But, babies are ridiculous little critters. So…I learned to change diapers, how much and often they eat and sleep, how flexible and sturdy they are, how easy it is to shove a bib or bottle in their open crying mouths, how puffy their diapers are which I think are specifically designed to pad falls, and how to toss them into cribs. All in all, babies are not nearly as fragile and frightening as I thought they were. And I’ve discovered that ALL BABIES ARE OVERSIZED CHIPMUNKS.
Jacob has enormous eyes and chubby cheeks used for storage. He likes to shove food in his mouth so hours later we’ll find broccoli on the floor. He was just hitting my laptop so I slapped his cheeks as he tried to bite my hand, until he crawled away. He also likes to vomit frequently, escape from the play room, play with the VCR after repeatedly being smacked, and crawl over the smaller babies. He has a goofy laugh that sounds like he’s nervously stuttering, and a soft little baby wail which is refreshing compared to Mynor’s, which can be heard from the other house.
Josué just walked up and did the same to my poor abused laptop, so I did the same to his cheeks. He had a very confused look on his face and then decided he…liked it. And drooled on my hand. He also has incredibly chipmunkish cheeks that go “flap flap flap” when I slap them, and Mayan heritage which gives him little beady black rodent eyes. When food is placed on his height chair, he takes a fist full and shoves it in his mouth-fist and all. With parents so genetically close (his mother is also his sister and his father is also his grandpa), you’d think he’d be retarded, but he is the smartest baby. He’s an escape artist, enjoys playing with the TV and VCR, loves stealing other babies’ bottles if they’re laying around. He’s one of the easiest to take care of because his temperament is so laid back, but I’ve diagnosed him with ADHD. He’s always on the run, hates sleeping, and refused to be held until recently. Somehow, without trying to, I’ve captured his little heart. Sometimes he crawls his diaper-padded butt over to me and lifts his arms up and whines to be picked up, then sits contently in my lap and cries if I put him down. He has an amusing, mournful cry, which is the only time he tries to talk, so it’s like a “waaaah wah ba ma maaaaaa!”He is by far the cutest baby here, and also my favorite.
Mynor the whiner is a year and a half old and communicates with screaming bloody, gory, eaten-alive-by-cannibals murder (he has alcohol syndrome) and…pointing and squeaking. He screams when someone leaves the room, when his diaper is being changed, when a baby takes his toy, when he’s put down, put in his height chair, and especially when he’s put in bed. He has a belly that reaches farther than his face, waddles with baby steps, has cheeks that take up more than half of his face and a mouth that takes up the rest, and large black eyes. A baby chipmunk, clearly. Although, his temperament is more like that of a rabid squirrel; he pushes, bites, and hits the other babies and takes toys away from them, so he is frequently smacked on the hand and put in the corner. We tell him that when the babies grow up, the three boys are going to gang up on him; but all they’ll have to do is call him a wimp and he’ll start screaming.
Mercedes is 7 months old and is also of Mayan decent; she has chubby cheeks, beady black eyes, and a tiny pointed mouth. She eats slowly because she chews like a sloth and she shrieks, not cries. She poops twice her weight in a day and I think may grow up to be pretty smart, as she must be preoccupied with toys at all times or she cries. She doesn’t have much hair, but she’s fun to dress in cute little girly clothes.
The volunteers and I called Karina “trolly”. She looks like one of those plastic, wild-haired trolls with the big eyes and goofy facial features. She’s got all of these, including the uncommon full head of hair at only 5 months; but that makes it fun to put it into strange hairstyles. She smiles randomly, is as tiny as a Chihuahua, and is pretty laid back. Her poop tends to be yellowish and slimy so I try my best to avoid changing her, but she has the cutest collection of donated clothes that we like to dress her up in.
Isaac is more like a zombie. He was abandoned in a hospital and was left in a crib with no stimulation for the first 6 months of his life, so at 1 year old he’s at the same level as a 6 month old. He communicates with grunting and cries with an eardrum-piercing scream constantly, which worsens his hernia and makes it pop out more…which is only visible while changing his diaper…which is so disturbing that I refuse to change it. He only crawls with one leg, drools like a Saint Bernard, and likes to chew on unsuspecting feet and hands. He has a stupid looking, square chubby face, that I pray he’ll grow out of. Donna tries to spend time with him so she can learn to love him. I only spend time with him to shove a bottle or bib in his mouth.
Davey is a spoiled little gringo. A gringo is what Guatemalans call Americans, who they charge more for everything. Davey has blonde hair, blue eyes, pointy chin, and lumpy cheeks that make an interesting scrunched up face when he’s angry. Everyone says he’s cute, but Tab and I agree that he’s not. He is a few months younger than Mynor and he talks and walks better, but is just as whiny and ten times as bratty and never gets spanked for throwing the same fits. He mostly only cries when someone is looking because he’s a little attention whore, but cries over EVERYTHING, so I see his ugly scrunched up face more than his clownish smile. He is separated from the babies a lot so I’m not around him much, and when I am I avoid him out of a secret and suppressed contempt.
Rosa isn’t a baby but she’s always around them, except for naps. She’s three years old and has every awful common quality attributed to her age. She always asks why, makes pointless messes, stalls like a turtle when she’s asked to do something, and plays the stupid card like no one ever has which is why I gave up on teaching her how to count to 10 and the alphabet after 3 days. And in the middle of a conversation when you and she are the only people in the room, she randomly asks “who, me?” Yes Rosa, you little horror. YOU.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Saturday, July 9, 2011
This Is How I'm Serving God
I’ve been asked a lot about what I do here, so I’ll list some things.
I change diapers, unless I can pawn them off on someone else.
I feed babies. Jacob likes to store food in his chubby cheeks like a chipmunk, and doesn’t understand the concept of swallowing so he sometimes chokes. Isaac likes to use his saliva to turn any solid food into paste to paint himself with.
I bathe babies. This is annoying. Some think being in water is hilarious, so they continuously kick water onto me and the floor. Others sob the whole time.
I put babies in their cribs for naps and bedtime-the best part of my day!
I make sure the babies don’t eat things (this is hard, as there are 7 of them), escape, hurt each other or themselves.
I sometimes help prepare meals and set the table.
I play Dutch Blitz, a four player card game. I highly suggest it.
I help the kids with their homework.
About one night a week I go to Esther and Eliud’s house to watch a movie.
I read a lot of stories to Rosa and Mynor.
I just got done dancing with the girls in the kitchen. There are these two really fun songs that they’ve been teaching me the goofy dances to.
I play games with the kids.
My Martina day is Sunday
I take the babies outside to put them in a swing, on a slide or trampoline, to see the puppies, walk them around, get them dirty and keep them from eating leaves. -_-
I sometimes help with dishes, sweeping, and clean-up.
I take the kids to the tienda, which means “store”. There are a million everywhere, and they’re all alike. Kinda like Walmart! I like going there because it gives me a break. The last time I went, I got 2 bags of chips, 6 lollipops, 4weird cookie things, and a bottle of soda for one American dollar and a few odd cents The kids here ask a lot about what things in the States cost, and are shocked that my little plastic pink bunny watch cost $5.
My schedule is something like this:
Wake up at 6:30, throw on clothes and deodorant and put my hair up
Get the babies, change their diapers and maybe their clothes, and put them in their high chairs.
Breakfast at 7:30.
Clean the babies’ faces and take them to the sala (living room). I watch them, help kids with school or play with Rosa.
Kids go to school at 9. Most go to the other house, but two of them stay here and are taught by Deb.
Babies nap at 10:30-for this hour and a half, I read my Bible and pray, and either blog, read, or nap.
Lunch at 12 or 12:30
I usually help with lunch clean-up
I play with babies or help kids with school or play with Rosa-it’s rainy season, so like clockwork it starts to rain around this time.
Babies to bed at 3-I teach the kids karate, blog, help with dinner, shower, or clean.
Dinner at 5 or 5:30
I usually help with dinner clean-up then stay in the sala for family time until the babies are put to bed at 7:30.
I crave chocolate about this time.
Until I go to bed-I blog, go online, play card games with the team, shower, or play with the kids.
I’m in bed by 9 or 9:30, and Tabby joins me in our full size bed around then. If she’s in bed before me, I ritually tackle her. It gets cold at night, so we snuggle close for body heat, and she makes jokes about cheating on her boyfriend with me. We usually talk a while before sleeping. We’ve known each other since my first semester in college, and have gotten a lot closer here. She leaves Monday and I’m going to die of loneliness. But the rest of the team leaves on Wednesday, so I’ll be able to spend more time online! =]
I change diapers, unless I can pawn them off on someone else.
I feed babies. Jacob likes to store food in his chubby cheeks like a chipmunk, and doesn’t understand the concept of swallowing so he sometimes chokes. Isaac likes to use his saliva to turn any solid food into paste to paint himself with.
I bathe babies. This is annoying. Some think being in water is hilarious, so they continuously kick water onto me and the floor. Others sob the whole time.
I put babies in their cribs for naps and bedtime-the best part of my day!
I make sure the babies don’t eat things (this is hard, as there are 7 of them), escape, hurt each other or themselves.
I sometimes help prepare meals and set the table.
I play Dutch Blitz, a four player card game. I highly suggest it.
I help the kids with their homework.
About one night a week I go to Esther and Eliud’s house to watch a movie.
I read a lot of stories to Rosa and Mynor.
I just got done dancing with the girls in the kitchen. There are these two really fun songs that they’ve been teaching me the goofy dances to.
I play games with the kids.
My Martina day is Sunday
I take the babies outside to put them in a swing, on a slide or trampoline, to see the puppies, walk them around, get them dirty and keep them from eating leaves. -_-
I sometimes help with dishes, sweeping, and clean-up.
I take the kids to the tienda, which means “store”. There are a million everywhere, and they’re all alike. Kinda like Walmart! I like going there because it gives me a break. The last time I went, I got 2 bags of chips, 6 lollipops, 4weird cookie things, and a bottle of soda for one American dollar and a few odd cents The kids here ask a lot about what things in the States cost, and are shocked that my little plastic pink bunny watch cost $5.
My schedule is something like this:
Wake up at 6:30, throw on clothes and deodorant and put my hair up
Get the babies, change their diapers and maybe their clothes, and put them in their high chairs.
Breakfast at 7:30.
Clean the babies’ faces and take them to the sala (living room). I watch them, help kids with school or play with Rosa.
Kids go to school at 9. Most go to the other house, but two of them stay here and are taught by Deb.
Babies nap at 10:30-for this hour and a half, I read my Bible and pray, and either blog, read, or nap.
Lunch at 12 or 12:30
I usually help with lunch clean-up
I play with babies or help kids with school or play with Rosa-it’s rainy season, so like clockwork it starts to rain around this time.
Babies to bed at 3-I teach the kids karate, blog, help with dinner, shower, or clean.
Dinner at 5 or 5:30
I usually help with dinner clean-up then stay in the sala for family time until the babies are put to bed at 7:30.
I crave chocolate about this time.
Until I go to bed-I blog, go online, play card games with the team, shower, or play with the kids.
I’m in bed by 9 or 9:30, and Tabby joins me in our full size bed around then. If she’s in bed before me, I ritually tackle her. It gets cold at night, so we snuggle close for body heat, and she makes jokes about cheating on her boyfriend with me. We usually talk a while before sleeping. We’ve known each other since my first semester in college, and have gotten a lot closer here. She leaves Monday and I’m going to die of loneliness. But the rest of the team leaves on Wednesday, so I’ll be able to spend more time online! =]
I Feel Like A Real Girl!
Last night our team treated Dave, Deb, Josh, and Donna to the Posada for dinner. The Posada is a really nice hotel and restaurant with expensive food (on American standards, it’s average) and its bathroom doors have a list and explanation of all the famous people who’ve visited there.
I was so excited to get out of the house and eat out again and wear normal clothes and jewelry and make-up just like a real girl! I wore a pretty black skirt, white tank top, flip-flops (I didn’t have room in my suitcase for dress shoes), a necklace and my purity ring, and my vanilla perfume. I felt like I was in America again! I was so happy, I was dancing around our room.
It was Tabby and her boyfriend’s six month-aversary. Since she couldn’t see him, so she got dressed up and went to a fancy restaurant with me as her date.
I had steak, veggies, and rice for dinner, and a brownie for dessert. I asked Deb to ask the waiter for a box for the rest of my brownie (I’d already eaten more than I normally do) and instead, he gave me another brownie wrapped in tinfoil. She tried to explain that I only wanted a box for the one I already had, so he wrapped up my first one. When I tried to hand him back my first one, he shrugged and waved his hand and walked away. It was my lucky night!
It was one of the best nights I’ve had here, so I thought I’d share.
I miss quite a few things; chocolate, for sure. I crave it all the time, but it can only be found in the city 3 hours away. Showers as long as I want; I wouldn’t mind showering every other day if everyone else did, but these short showers are most annoying. Shaving. I only get to shave my legs about every 3 days. My dad. Make-up and dressing nice. T-shirts and Bermuda shorts are not my thing; I feel more comfortable looking nice than dressing down. Being online as much as I want. My best friend. Watching Glee on Netflix. Waynesburg. Freedom from a schedule. Not yelling at people. Knowing that everything I touch is sanitary. My phone. Food I like. The luxury of not having to worry if I’m using too much toilet paper or water to wash my hands.
I do miss these things, but not nearly as much as I miss having people who I love around me. I love these kids, but I need peers and people who are close with me to converse with and have fellowship with. Our team has devotions every day, but it’s not fellowship. I could give of myself forever, as long as I had one person to fill me back up. I’ve already been spending at least an hour on average with God every day, but I think that the three weeks after the team leaves will bring me closer to Him, as best friends.
I was so excited to get out of the house and eat out again and wear normal clothes and jewelry and make-up just like a real girl! I wore a pretty black skirt, white tank top, flip-flops (I didn’t have room in my suitcase for dress shoes), a necklace and my purity ring, and my vanilla perfume. I felt like I was in America again! I was so happy, I was dancing around our room.
It was Tabby and her boyfriend’s six month-aversary. Since she couldn’t see him, so she got dressed up and went to a fancy restaurant with me as her date.
I had steak, veggies, and rice for dinner, and a brownie for dessert. I asked Deb to ask the waiter for a box for the rest of my brownie (I’d already eaten more than I normally do) and instead, he gave me another brownie wrapped in tinfoil. She tried to explain that I only wanted a box for the one I already had, so he wrapped up my first one. When I tried to hand him back my first one, he shrugged and waved his hand and walked away. It was my lucky night!
It was one of the best nights I’ve had here, so I thought I’d share.
I miss quite a few things; chocolate, for sure. I crave it all the time, but it can only be found in the city 3 hours away. Showers as long as I want; I wouldn’t mind showering every other day if everyone else did, but these short showers are most annoying. Shaving. I only get to shave my legs about every 3 days. My dad. Make-up and dressing nice. T-shirts and Bermuda shorts are not my thing; I feel more comfortable looking nice than dressing down. Being online as much as I want. My best friend. Watching Glee on Netflix. Waynesburg. Freedom from a schedule. Not yelling at people. Knowing that everything I touch is sanitary. My phone. Food I like. The luxury of not having to worry if I’m using too much toilet paper or water to wash my hands.
I do miss these things, but not nearly as much as I miss having people who I love around me. I love these kids, but I need peers and people who are close with me to converse with and have fellowship with. Our team has devotions every day, but it’s not fellowship. I could give of myself forever, as long as I had one person to fill me back up. I’ve already been spending at least an hour on average with God every day, but I think that the three weeks after the team leaves will bring me closer to Him, as best friends.
I Heart Near Death Experiences!
Wednesday was yet another near-death experience, but I needed one after being in the orphanage for 2 weeks. We drove an hour and a half to a bus stop in the middle of nowhere. At this stop we met Maximum, who was the only English speaking villager Panamache. He learned because his wife, who was a short-term missionary from Iowa, taught him. She decided to become a long-term missionary when she married him. This wasn’t the first time we heard of a missionary falling in love with a native and deciding to stay here.
Panamache was relocated to land given by the Guatemalan government because of mudslides, and was renamed Los Victorales. We parked the van that we had rented when we first got here in the middle of nowhere, and walked down the street to the “bus stop”—a curb on the side of the road, in front of a steep cliff. It was only 10:30, but we decided to eat our lunch there instead of in front of the kids. We got out our bread, and jar of Goober—the fancy stuff that has peanut butter and jelly in it—and realized we had no knife. So being the resourceful person that I am, I thoroughly sanitized my hand, stuck it in the jar, and made everyone’s sandwiches. Meanwhile, Leister and Shane were scheming up ideas for how to make a ski lift or zip-line to get down there.
Instead, we went the old-fashioned Guatemalan way—piling in the back of a truck and wobbling down the steep drop off on the other (guardrails don’t exist in this country). For some reason, we had to drive down the mountain, and then back up the other side to reach Panamache, instead of driving around. Apparently the unsafe way cuts off a lot of time.
Jill, one of the new volunteers, had panic attacks, while Shane sang “Living on A Prayer” by Bon Jovi and every song having to do with a mountain; “she’ll be comin’ round the mountain when she comes, she’ll be comin’ round the mountain when she comes!” I was a bit nervous so I prayed in my head, contrary to Leister’s prays that could be heard from the other side of the valley, as he’s nearly deaf. What really made us nervous were the dark clouds; so we prayed for God to blow them the way we had come. And He did.
And as we prayed, Shane sang Miley Cyrus; “There’s always gonna be another mountain! I’m always gonna wanna make it move! There’s always gonna be an uphill battle, sometimes I’m gonna have to move!”
When we got there, we put our 8 suitcases into the church-er, concrete building with a tin roof and the only locked doors in the village-and took the ones with the stuffed animals and hats to the school, which was a concrete building with a lopsided tin roof and no doors. We had Maximum translate to them who we were and why we were here-friends from America, here to give you gifts-and distributed the donated animals and hats to the individual kids as they sat in their desks. Some said “gracias” but most eagerly took the gift and stared at it before smiling and hugging it or putting it on. I don’t think they knew what most of the animals were.
The kids’ clothes were as dirty as their faces and were obviously donated: t-shirts with Spongebob and Dora hanging off their boney shoulders, jeans that were either too big or too small, or skirts tied to their malnourished waists with rope. Some of them had donated backpacks, and they carried mugs to get water from the village well.
When we were done at the school, we weaved through the maze of shacks and little concrete huts to find little bambinos to give McDonalds beanie babies (they were all we had left) and hats to. The hats were pink or blue and were a Safari style, and were pretty ugly for American fashion, but the mothers went nuts over them. They were so happy to have something to keep their heads from burning. We also brought care packages filled with necessities: thread, deodorant, soap, band-aids, and shampoo, meant to be given to every family (70 families resided in Los Victorales), but since we were there at midday and most parents and eligible children were in the fields, they’ll be distributed on Sunday. We wished we could be there. Maximum said “you saw the mothers’ smiles when we gave their children stuffed animals—you should see their tears when they receive necessities!” When Leister was here last year, he saw a woman washing her clothes in a pot of water. He reached in a bag and pulled out a bar of soap to give to her, but a woman grabbed it from him, literally breaking a finger and bending three back. Reading what I’ve written about these people dressed in dirty clothes and living without electricity or sanitized water, speaking a Mayan language, might paint a picture of savages living in a tribe in rough terrain. At the orphanage, even though showers are limited to 10 minutes, we’re allowed to shower every day. Could you imagine not being able to shower, ever? Could you imagine taking off your sweaty clothes that you worked in the field in all day, sitting your bare butt in a bucket of water filled up by last night’s rain and scrubbing yourself with your hands, with no sweet smelling lather to reassure yourself that your body is free from ringworm, rashes, infection—and then putting your dirty clothes back on? Just like the Holocaust’s concentration camps where people stole from each other and fought their fathers to the death for a piece of bread, this is a Holocaust of poverty—and I think most of my friends would break a finger for a bar of soap too.
On the way back, we realized we had a few stuffed animals left; Jill and Shane took a lot of joy from their game of “toss the donated stuffed animal to the starving Guatemalan child in the field.”
Well, that was my heart-wrenching story of the week. The orphanage is nice and the kids here aren’t starving, so I often forget I’m in a third-world country; but this place really is a life saver for 19 people. However, to save these lives, two permanently sacrificed the comfort, luxuries, and safety provided by the U.S. They were lounging on the couch together when the babies were in bed, playing Mario like normal 20-something year olds. I felt a mix of sympathy and admiration for them.
Panamache was relocated to land given by the Guatemalan government because of mudslides, and was renamed Los Victorales. We parked the van that we had rented when we first got here in the middle of nowhere, and walked down the street to the “bus stop”—a curb on the side of the road, in front of a steep cliff. It was only 10:30, but we decided to eat our lunch there instead of in front of the kids. We got out our bread, and jar of Goober—the fancy stuff that has peanut butter and jelly in it—and realized we had no knife. So being the resourceful person that I am, I thoroughly sanitized my hand, stuck it in the jar, and made everyone’s sandwiches. Meanwhile, Leister and Shane were scheming up ideas for how to make a ski lift or zip-line to get down there.
Instead, we went the old-fashioned Guatemalan way—piling in the back of a truck and wobbling down the steep drop off on the other (guardrails don’t exist in this country). For some reason, we had to drive down the mountain, and then back up the other side to reach Panamache, instead of driving around. Apparently the unsafe way cuts off a lot of time.
Jill, one of the new volunteers, had panic attacks, while Shane sang “Living on A Prayer” by Bon Jovi and every song having to do with a mountain; “she’ll be comin’ round the mountain when she comes, she’ll be comin’ round the mountain when she comes!” I was a bit nervous so I prayed in my head, contrary to Leister’s prays that could be heard from the other side of the valley, as he’s nearly deaf. What really made us nervous were the dark clouds; so we prayed for God to blow them the way we had come. And He did.
And as we prayed, Shane sang Miley Cyrus; “There’s always gonna be another mountain! I’m always gonna wanna make it move! There’s always gonna be an uphill battle, sometimes I’m gonna have to move!”
When we got there, we put our 8 suitcases into the church-er, concrete building with a tin roof and the only locked doors in the village-and took the ones with the stuffed animals and hats to the school, which was a concrete building with a lopsided tin roof and no doors. We had Maximum translate to them who we were and why we were here-friends from America, here to give you gifts-and distributed the donated animals and hats to the individual kids as they sat in their desks. Some said “gracias” but most eagerly took the gift and stared at it before smiling and hugging it or putting it on. I don’t think they knew what most of the animals were.
The kids’ clothes were as dirty as their faces and were obviously donated: t-shirts with Spongebob and Dora hanging off their boney shoulders, jeans that were either too big or too small, or skirts tied to their malnourished waists with rope. Some of them had donated backpacks, and they carried mugs to get water from the village well.
When we were done at the school, we weaved through the maze of shacks and little concrete huts to find little bambinos to give McDonalds beanie babies (they were all we had left) and hats to. The hats were pink or blue and were a Safari style, and were pretty ugly for American fashion, but the mothers went nuts over them. They were so happy to have something to keep their heads from burning. We also brought care packages filled with necessities: thread, deodorant, soap, band-aids, and shampoo, meant to be given to every family (70 families resided in Los Victorales), but since we were there at midday and most parents and eligible children were in the fields, they’ll be distributed on Sunday. We wished we could be there. Maximum said “you saw the mothers’ smiles when we gave their children stuffed animals—you should see their tears when they receive necessities!” When Leister was here last year, he saw a woman washing her clothes in a pot of water. He reached in a bag and pulled out a bar of soap to give to her, but a woman grabbed it from him, literally breaking a finger and bending three back. Reading what I’ve written about these people dressed in dirty clothes and living without electricity or sanitized water, speaking a Mayan language, might paint a picture of savages living in a tribe in rough terrain. At the orphanage, even though showers are limited to 10 minutes, we’re allowed to shower every day. Could you imagine not being able to shower, ever? Could you imagine taking off your sweaty clothes that you worked in the field in all day, sitting your bare butt in a bucket of water filled up by last night’s rain and scrubbing yourself with your hands, with no sweet smelling lather to reassure yourself that your body is free from ringworm, rashes, infection—and then putting your dirty clothes back on? Just like the Holocaust’s concentration camps where people stole from each other and fought their fathers to the death for a piece of bread, this is a Holocaust of poverty—and I think most of my friends would break a finger for a bar of soap too.
On the way back, we realized we had a few stuffed animals left; Jill and Shane took a lot of joy from their game of “toss the donated stuffed animal to the starving Guatemalan child in the field.”
Well, that was my heart-wrenching story of the week. The orphanage is nice and the kids here aren’t starving, so I often forget I’m in a third-world country; but this place really is a life saver for 19 people. However, to save these lives, two permanently sacrificed the comfort, luxuries, and safety provided by the U.S. They were lounging on the couch together when the babies were in bed, playing Mario like normal 20-something year olds. I felt a mix of sympathy and admiration for them.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Day19-Happy 4th Of July!
Tabitha and I have just decided that she has chubby cheeks, but I have prominent cheeks, giving me the look of a chipmunk.
Today was the 4th of July, and being an English speaking household in which the heads come from America, we went all out on the holiday! We had a picnic!!! Deb and Dave invited Esther and Eliud, the teachers/sister and brother-in-law of Deb, and some friends who were originally American who moved here for God knows why. One woman came with her adopted kids: a black boy, a Chinese girl, a Caucasian girl, and a Guatemalan boy. Tabby pointed to them and said “my family will look like the one day.” I seconded that. We also had all sorts of food: grilled hotdogs and barbecue chicken, potato and egg salad, fruit salad, Jell-o, corn, baked beans, and...get this…soda! We never have soda! We also roasted marshmallows over the fire, went swimming, and blew up fireworks. Well, everyone but Tabby and I. We stayed in the watch the babies, put them to bed, and relax with a book and blogging. It was a bit nippy out anyways.
It was a pretty exciting day, so I decided to let you guys in on it—er, Justin and Dad, anyways. Does anyone else even read these?
God bless America, and God bless you guys too!
Today was the 4th of July, and being an English speaking household in which the heads come from America, we went all out on the holiday! We had a picnic!!! Deb and Dave invited Esther and Eliud, the teachers/sister and brother-in-law of Deb, and some friends who were originally American who moved here for God knows why. One woman came with her adopted kids: a black boy, a Chinese girl, a Caucasian girl, and a Guatemalan boy. Tabby pointed to them and said “my family will look like the one day.” I seconded that. We also had all sorts of food: grilled hotdogs and barbecue chicken, potato and egg salad, fruit salad, Jell-o, corn, baked beans, and...get this…soda! We never have soda! We also roasted marshmallows over the fire, went swimming, and blew up fireworks. Well, everyone but Tabby and I. We stayed in the watch the babies, put them to bed, and relax with a book and blogging. It was a bit nippy out anyways.
It was a pretty exciting day, so I decided to let you guys in on it—er, Justin and Dad, anyways. Does anyone else even read these?
God bless America, and God bless you guys too!
Day 19-Finally! The Ministry I Was Born For!
Last night a few of us girls went to the other house down the street where the kids are taught, to watch a movie called Wives and Daughters. The first half was good enough to hold my attention, and I haven’t been able to sit down and indulge in a movie, which is why I lazily said no when Leister asked me to join in a skit they’d be performing the next evening in church that would be “better with a sixth person”. Then some of the volunteering girls came upstairs again to tell me I needed to be a model in the Everything skit by the band Lifehouse. I did the skit years ago with my youth group and loved it, and felt guilty not participating, so I went downstairs to see Shane teaching Emily the beginning of the main part. “Have you ever seen the Everything skit?” asked Leister. “Yea, I was in it.” “Oh! You were in it! You were the model?” “No, I was the main chick.” “OH! YOU WERE THE MAIN GIRL! Ok, trial run with Rachel as the main girl!” So we ran through it once with a few mishaps, but it was obvious I knew most of it, so I was wordlessly accepted into the part. Tiff had fun throwing me into my pantomimed vomit and poking my eye with her gun, and everyone else had fun pushing me around and onto the ground. It’s fitting that the main girl is the smallest of the group.
On the way home, I walked a little ahead of Tiff, Em, and Beth, who were walking slowly because they were trying to hide from the slight drizzle under an umbrella. When I was standing in the kitchen waiting to make sure they got in ok, I heard Em say “Rachel! Come here, there’s something wrong with one of the puppies!” I rushed out and saw Tiff holding a toad half as big as my head. The saying here is “Everything is bigger in Guatemala!” WHen I get ahold of it, I'll upload the picture of me kissing my prince. He turned into a really obese Guatemalan man who ran away chasing flies.
We performed Everything, along with a few other that didn’t come anywhere close to how dramatic and intense the Everything was ;), last night at the church that Deb and Dave go to. Performing is one of my passions; I was in theatre for 5 years and would continue to be, if I didn't dislike WU's theatre program so much. The skit went fairly well, except Andrew, who played my lover boy, messed up and didn’t caress my face with his flower like he was supposed to. He also reminds me of a red-haired version of Edmund from the Chronicles of Narnia.
Afterwards, Leister preached a bit about God’s Love and the importance of being saved, closed us in prayer, and told the tiny congregation of natives that if they wanted to accept Christ as their savior that he or any of his team could pray with them. During this, Rosa kept turning around and staring at me, which is a little weird, even for her. When I caught her, she’d smile. After a few times, I told her to sit on my lap. Next, the preacher spoke in Suto Heel (spelling??)which is the language that the Mayan natives speak. The service usually lasts from 6-9 P.M. but thankfully!!! Only lasted until 7:30ish. When it was over, the congregation got up to have meet and greet time, in which Jeamy came up to talk to me. She is a very pretty 13 year old, and told me she wanted to go up when Leister asked if anyone wanted prayed for, but was too afraid. I was shocked. “…Why did you want to go up?”
“Um...well, I don’t want to talk about it now.”
“Can we talk about it when we get home, please?”
“Ok!”
Then I looked below my chair to find my camera, and it wasn’t there. I looked around…and panicked over no sign of it. My camera is a little over a hundred dollars, but I love it like a child, and my dad would be furious if I lost it. I asked around, and then Vidalia walked up to me and asked “are you looking for your camera?” “Yes…where is it?” I asked the mischievous little twerp. She grinned and said “I don’t know!” Then looked at Mrs. Willman, one of the new volunteers who arrived a few days ago, who was suspiciously rolling her eyes away from the rectangular bulge in her pocket. So I dumped a bit of water from my water bottle on Vidalia’s head. She was soooo mad, she continually hit me and chased me around trying to grab my water bottle to dump some on me until we got into the van. Not only does she have an attitude and likes to pull tricks on people, but she holds pretty good grudges. When we got home, I took off my glasses and watch and handed her my water bottle. She threw some on me, handed it back, and held my hand as we walked up the steps and into the house.
Someone put on this popular song called “Los Ninos” that has a funny dance to it. Jeamy asked me to teach her how to dance so I started dancing like I do at dances. She just stared at me, then said “No! Like…normal dancing!” So I started doing the Macarina, the Electric Slide, and the Cha-cha Slide. Then I taught a bunch of the kids the chicken dance, which they thought was hilarious.
Jeamy’s bedtime is 8:30, so we didn’t have time to talk. This morning she met me in the baby room where I was sorting Rosa’s clothes, sat across from me cross legged, and spilled. She thinks she isn’t saved. She says she used to be, but fell back to her old ways. She freely admits that she struggles with lying, gossiping, and being mean. She wants to be kind and not fall so easily into temptation, which she says she can feel the devil pulling her with. She says she prays a lot, but only for other people. Her mother gave her and her siblings away when she was 9 years old, without her father’s knowledge. Her parents went to church and were even in the praise team, until they started fighting with each other a lot and wouldn’t allow their kids to go back. She also pointed out what her adopted sisters do that is obviously sinful, even though they claim to be saved, and how it confuses her. I told her that even as a Christian, it’s a constant struggle not to go back to our “old ways” and give into temptation, but the difference between Christians and non-believers is that we try to break free from that sin, and with Jesus in our lives, we’re not addicted to it anymore. She said that she’s talked to her parents (the kids call Dave and Deb their parents) but they told her to pray by herself, which surprised me. She said that all she wants is for someone to pray with her; so I took her hands in mine, and prayed for her family’s salvation, for God to strengthen her against temptation, for others not to get her down, His super-natural peace, for her to feel His Love, and for His glory to shine through her so that others can see what Jesus can do in their lives. She thanked me a dozen times before she went downstairs, and said she felt better. I felt better too, as I finally got to do the kind of ministry I love best.
Right now I’m upstairs in the loft above the kitchen, sitting in a comfy reclining chair, waiting on Tabby to get off the internet. Jamie said something about Tabby’s boyfriend, and then asked if I had one. “No” I stated, “and I don’t want one!”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because they’re pains in the butt.”
“Why?”
“Because boys are stupid.”
“Oh. Well then I’ll never have a boyfriend.”
“Good! Well…just be really picky about who you choose.”
“No, I’ll never have one! Well, except Jesus. I’m already in a relationship with him.”
I high-fived her. :)
On the way home, I walked a little ahead of Tiff, Em, and Beth, who were walking slowly because they were trying to hide from the slight drizzle under an umbrella. When I was standing in the kitchen waiting to make sure they got in ok, I heard Em say “Rachel! Come here, there’s something wrong with one of the puppies!” I rushed out and saw Tiff holding a toad half as big as my head. The saying here is “Everything is bigger in Guatemala!” WHen I get ahold of it, I'll upload the picture of me kissing my prince. He turned into a really obese Guatemalan man who ran away chasing flies.
We performed Everything, along with a few other that didn’t come anywhere close to how dramatic and intense the Everything was ;), last night at the church that Deb and Dave go to. Performing is one of my passions; I was in theatre for 5 years and would continue to be, if I didn't dislike WU's theatre program so much. The skit went fairly well, except Andrew, who played my lover boy, messed up and didn’t caress my face with his flower like he was supposed to. He also reminds me of a red-haired version of Edmund from the Chronicles of Narnia.
Afterwards, Leister preached a bit about God’s Love and the importance of being saved, closed us in prayer, and told the tiny congregation of natives that if they wanted to accept Christ as their savior that he or any of his team could pray with them. During this, Rosa kept turning around and staring at me, which is a little weird, even for her. When I caught her, she’d smile. After a few times, I told her to sit on my lap. Next, the preacher spoke in Suto Heel (spelling??)which is the language that the Mayan natives speak. The service usually lasts from 6-9 P.M. but thankfully!!! Only lasted until 7:30ish. When it was over, the congregation got up to have meet and greet time, in which Jeamy came up to talk to me. She is a very pretty 13 year old, and told me she wanted to go up when Leister asked if anyone wanted prayed for, but was too afraid. I was shocked. “…Why did you want to go up?”
“Um...well, I don’t want to talk about it now.”
“Can we talk about it when we get home, please?”
“Ok!”
Then I looked below my chair to find my camera, and it wasn’t there. I looked around…and panicked over no sign of it. My camera is a little over a hundred dollars, but I love it like a child, and my dad would be furious if I lost it. I asked around, and then Vidalia walked up to me and asked “are you looking for your camera?” “Yes…where is it?” I asked the mischievous little twerp. She grinned and said “I don’t know!” Then looked at Mrs. Willman, one of the new volunteers who arrived a few days ago, who was suspiciously rolling her eyes away from the rectangular bulge in her pocket. So I dumped a bit of water from my water bottle on Vidalia’s head. She was soooo mad, she continually hit me and chased me around trying to grab my water bottle to dump some on me until we got into the van. Not only does she have an attitude and likes to pull tricks on people, but she holds pretty good grudges. When we got home, I took off my glasses and watch and handed her my water bottle. She threw some on me, handed it back, and held my hand as we walked up the steps and into the house.
Someone put on this popular song called “Los Ninos” that has a funny dance to it. Jeamy asked me to teach her how to dance so I started dancing like I do at dances. She just stared at me, then said “No! Like…normal dancing!” So I started doing the Macarina, the Electric Slide, and the Cha-cha Slide. Then I taught a bunch of the kids the chicken dance, which they thought was hilarious.
Jeamy’s bedtime is 8:30, so we didn’t have time to talk. This morning she met me in the baby room where I was sorting Rosa’s clothes, sat across from me cross legged, and spilled. She thinks she isn’t saved. She says she used to be, but fell back to her old ways. She freely admits that she struggles with lying, gossiping, and being mean. She wants to be kind and not fall so easily into temptation, which she says she can feel the devil pulling her with. She says she prays a lot, but only for other people. Her mother gave her and her siblings away when she was 9 years old, without her father’s knowledge. Her parents went to church and were even in the praise team, until they started fighting with each other a lot and wouldn’t allow their kids to go back. She also pointed out what her adopted sisters do that is obviously sinful, even though they claim to be saved, and how it confuses her. I told her that even as a Christian, it’s a constant struggle not to go back to our “old ways” and give into temptation, but the difference between Christians and non-believers is that we try to break free from that sin, and with Jesus in our lives, we’re not addicted to it anymore. She said that she’s talked to her parents (the kids call Dave and Deb their parents) but they told her to pray by herself, which surprised me. She said that all she wants is for someone to pray with her; so I took her hands in mine, and prayed for her family’s salvation, for God to strengthen her against temptation, for others not to get her down, His super-natural peace, for her to feel His Love, and for His glory to shine through her so that others can see what Jesus can do in their lives. She thanked me a dozen times before she went downstairs, and said she felt better. I felt better too, as I finally got to do the kind of ministry I love best.
Right now I’m upstairs in the loft above the kitchen, sitting in a comfy reclining chair, waiting on Tabby to get off the internet. Jamie said something about Tabby’s boyfriend, and then asked if I had one. “No” I stated, “and I don’t want one!”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because they’re pains in the butt.”
“Why?”
“Because boys are stupid.”
“Oh. Well then I’ll never have a boyfriend.”
“Good! Well…just be really picky about who you choose.”
“No, I’ll never have one! Well, except Jesus. I’m already in a relationship with him.”
I high-fived her. :)
This Is Where I Am
This orphanage is nothing like I thought it’d be. When I decided to go to an “orphanage”, I imagined large rooms filled with beds and kids dressed in rags and eating meager rationed meals. But it’s more like this:
We live in a large stone house with bars over every window and door (they were robbed a few times), and 7 bedrooms; the boys in one room, Donna and Josh have their own room, Deb and Dave have their own room, the babies are all in one room, the volunteer girls get their own room, and the girls get 2 different rooms, and each room has its own bathroom. The volunteer boys sleep in the other house. We eat meals in the huge kitchen at 2 plastic tables, one with chairs and the other with benches where the kids sit at. We use a dishwasher and wash the cooking dishes by hand, and we all have to eat every crumb on our plates—no wasting anything! If we don’t, we wrap it in cellophane and put it in the fridge to eat for the next meal. After every meal, Dave reads a Bible story, puts on a Bible story tape, or separates them into teams for Bible quizzing.
The food here is kinda decent. For breakfast we have a very cheap version of Cocoa Puffs called Choco Puffs that we eat at least every other morning (I’m getting sick of them now), pancakes, crepes about once a week (sooo good!), or eggs with peppers and onions. For lunch and dinner we have sandwiches, rice and beans about every day, spaghetti, salad, cooked veggies, and various disgusting concoctions made from the donated 32 bags of lentils.
The kids each have a pair of crocs that they wear around everywhere, and hand-me-down clothes that sometimes actually match, which they wear until they’re visibly dirty. We do use washers and dryers, but have to put in a full load. They have lots of games, puzzles, Kinex building toys, some stuffed animals, a few bikes, 5 bookshelves full of all kinds of books, a small TV in the sala (living room) and apparently someone donated a WII and some games (Mario!). They also have a large cabinet filled with movies and DVDs, which they’re digitalizing onto a hard drive so they can pick movies from a menu, as the physical movies are getting moldy.
The babies’ diapers aren’t to be changed unless they’ve pooped or are really full of pee, and wipes are only used on poop; yet they go through a thousand diapers a month! We put them down for two hour naps twice a day, which is my semi-quiet free time. During these hours, I do devotions and pray for an hour, shower, take a nap (not nearly as often as I’d like), get online, read, or help with meals. The bambinos each have a different colored bottle assigned to them, filled with this powdered milk called “replacer” mixed with water, which everyone drinks. They also each have an individual crib, which is nice. The Steukenbergs who ran the orphanage before Dave and Deb were very blessed to have quite a few churches that supported them. When they left two years ago to take care of Deb’s grandmother, leaving Deb and Dave (newly-weds of one year) to run the orphanage, the churches had new administration by then and decided to pull out to spend their money on other non-profit organizations, so there is less money now.
The internet here sucks, and we have an allowance of a certain number of bytes each day. I was not banking on this when I came. So, I only have a short amount of time to be online each day, never at a specific time, if I even DO get to get online. That’s why I’m typing this on my laptop, which I’ll hook up to the Ethernet cord and post on my blog when I’m finished.
Their yard is very nice; along with the exotic foliage, they have nice rocks to climb on, a jungle gym with slides and swings, a trampoline, an in-ground (but unheated) pool, and berry bushes that they like to stuff their faces from.
They have two dogs, Cheespa and Cody. Cheespa was “fixed” but apparently not well enough, as she gave birth to 4 puppies right before I came. She drowned one in the rain and ate it, and stopped taking care of the runt which died the day after we brought him inside. The runt was too adorable for words. He was black and fuzzy, with a head too big for his tiny body. We fed him replacer milk with a syringe, and put him in a plastic crate with some towels and a heating pad. He was smart, as he refused to pee in his sleeping area, so he kept escaping to go on the floor, and then crying for attention. He was an absolute attention whore of a puppy! We kept him in our room for a night so we could take care of him, and every time he got out to pee, he’d cry at the top of his tiny lungs to wake us up so he could crawl in our laps and nuzzle his head in our arms, as if we were his pseudo-mommies. We found him as cold as ice one morning, so we put him on the heating pad and covered him up with towels. He had a few syringes full of milk, but his little body had had enough. Josh buried him in the woods.
Cheespa 7 years old and has messed up hormones, which explains why she’s such a horrible mother. She walks around when her puppies cry for her, and rarely sits still for them to nurse. I understand she’s just a messed up dog, but I had no sympathy for her when I heard she might be put down because of her mange, until Dave called a friend who told him where to get medicine.
A black and white cat named Muffy resides here as well. She somehow got outside one evening and found a handsome looking Tabby cat; thus birthing the love of my life, Tack. I constantly cuddle the kitten, who is beside me now, and have at least 50 pictures of her. She is the cutest baby here; partly because she’s litter trained.
They recently bought two beef bulls which they’re going to raise and sell for a decent profit. Josh and Dave asked me to film them tackling and branding them, because they were just so proud of themselves. Before the bulls arrived, they had the kids split into 2 teams and build huts for them, which occupied their afternoons for a week. Deb and Dave are pretty good at finding fun projects to keep the kids of out trouble.
The boys’ room is downstairs, and at night an alarm is turned on so every time the door opens, it sounds so the entire house can hear them. They’ve had trouble with boys in the past, so they don’t take any chances.
The weather here sucks a lot. It’s a little warm in the mornings, cold at night, and ALWAYS rainy in the afternoons and evenings, if not all day. I wear jeans or long shorts, a t-shirt, and oftentimes a hoody because the house is colder than outside.
It is really nice here. It sounds like they’ve got more material possession than most of us, but their lifestyles certainly aren’t enviable. They each do quite a few chores every day, wear clothes that were passed down from someone else (I think they’re usually pretty cute, but they may not, and may sometimes end up with some that aren’t) and wear them until they’ve spilled something on them or played in the dirt (if you’re OCD, this might bother you), and if you’re not an enthusiastic Christian you may not like hearing about God at every meal, memorizing entire passages from the Bible, going to church twice a week, or getting told “that is not very Christian-like!” It’s not like they shove the religion down their throat to the point of vomiting; it’s very easy to see the Bible as just poetic words on how to live, and their parents’ expectations of a Christian as a lifestyle they only have to except for a few years until they’re free. Since there are so many kids, the adults can’t be patient with them, so discipline is tight. When they do something wrong, they immediately get reprimanded and possibly punished.
I like sharing a room with other people, and sleeping in the same full-sized bed with Tabby. Otherwise, I’d be lonely. I don’t like following a schedule or eating what I don’t like to avoid hunger pangs, and the babies give me headaches. But all things considered, I am comfortable here. I hope you guys are happy after reading what it’s like here. I hope I gave you a good enough description, even though I haven’t been in a writing mood.
See you in 4 weeks and 4 days! God bless!
We live in a large stone house with bars over every window and door (they were robbed a few times), and 7 bedrooms; the boys in one room, Donna and Josh have their own room, Deb and Dave have their own room, the babies are all in one room, the volunteer girls get their own room, and the girls get 2 different rooms, and each room has its own bathroom. The volunteer boys sleep in the other house. We eat meals in the huge kitchen at 2 plastic tables, one with chairs and the other with benches where the kids sit at. We use a dishwasher and wash the cooking dishes by hand, and we all have to eat every crumb on our plates—no wasting anything! If we don’t, we wrap it in cellophane and put it in the fridge to eat for the next meal. After every meal, Dave reads a Bible story, puts on a Bible story tape, or separates them into teams for Bible quizzing.
The food here is kinda decent. For breakfast we have a very cheap version of Cocoa Puffs called Choco Puffs that we eat at least every other morning (I’m getting sick of them now), pancakes, crepes about once a week (sooo good!), or eggs with peppers and onions. For lunch and dinner we have sandwiches, rice and beans about every day, spaghetti, salad, cooked veggies, and various disgusting concoctions made from the donated 32 bags of lentils.
The kids each have a pair of crocs that they wear around everywhere, and hand-me-down clothes that sometimes actually match, which they wear until they’re visibly dirty. We do use washers and dryers, but have to put in a full load. They have lots of games, puzzles, Kinex building toys, some stuffed animals, a few bikes, 5 bookshelves full of all kinds of books, a small TV in the sala (living room) and apparently someone donated a WII and some games (Mario!). They also have a large cabinet filled with movies and DVDs, which they’re digitalizing onto a hard drive so they can pick movies from a menu, as the physical movies are getting moldy.
The babies’ diapers aren’t to be changed unless they’ve pooped or are really full of pee, and wipes are only used on poop; yet they go through a thousand diapers a month! We put them down for two hour naps twice a day, which is my semi-quiet free time. During these hours, I do devotions and pray for an hour, shower, take a nap (not nearly as often as I’d like), get online, read, or help with meals. The bambinos each have a different colored bottle assigned to them, filled with this powdered milk called “replacer” mixed with water, which everyone drinks. They also each have an individual crib, which is nice. The Steukenbergs who ran the orphanage before Dave and Deb were very blessed to have quite a few churches that supported them. When they left two years ago to take care of Deb’s grandmother, leaving Deb and Dave (newly-weds of one year) to run the orphanage, the churches had new administration by then and decided to pull out to spend their money on other non-profit organizations, so there is less money now.
The internet here sucks, and we have an allowance of a certain number of bytes each day. I was not banking on this when I came. So, I only have a short amount of time to be online each day, never at a specific time, if I even DO get to get online. That’s why I’m typing this on my laptop, which I’ll hook up to the Ethernet cord and post on my blog when I’m finished.
Their yard is very nice; along with the exotic foliage, they have nice rocks to climb on, a jungle gym with slides and swings, a trampoline, an in-ground (but unheated) pool, and berry bushes that they like to stuff their faces from.
They have two dogs, Cheespa and Cody. Cheespa was “fixed” but apparently not well enough, as she gave birth to 4 puppies right before I came. She drowned one in the rain and ate it, and stopped taking care of the runt which died the day after we brought him inside. The runt was too adorable for words. He was black and fuzzy, with a head too big for his tiny body. We fed him replacer milk with a syringe, and put him in a plastic crate with some towels and a heating pad. He was smart, as he refused to pee in his sleeping area, so he kept escaping to go on the floor, and then crying for attention. He was an absolute attention whore of a puppy! We kept him in our room for a night so we could take care of him, and every time he got out to pee, he’d cry at the top of his tiny lungs to wake us up so he could crawl in our laps and nuzzle his head in our arms, as if we were his pseudo-mommies. We found him as cold as ice one morning, so we put him on the heating pad and covered him up with towels. He had a few syringes full of milk, but his little body had had enough. Josh buried him in the woods.
Cheespa 7 years old and has messed up hormones, which explains why she’s such a horrible mother. She walks around when her puppies cry for her, and rarely sits still for them to nurse. I understand she’s just a messed up dog, but I had no sympathy for her when I heard she might be put down because of her mange, until Dave called a friend who told him where to get medicine.
A black and white cat named Muffy resides here as well. She somehow got outside one evening and found a handsome looking Tabby cat; thus birthing the love of my life, Tack. I constantly cuddle the kitten, who is beside me now, and have at least 50 pictures of her. She is the cutest baby here; partly because she’s litter trained.
They recently bought two beef bulls which they’re going to raise and sell for a decent profit. Josh and Dave asked me to film them tackling and branding them, because they were just so proud of themselves. Before the bulls arrived, they had the kids split into 2 teams and build huts for them, which occupied their afternoons for a week. Deb and Dave are pretty good at finding fun projects to keep the kids of out trouble.
The boys’ room is downstairs, and at night an alarm is turned on so every time the door opens, it sounds so the entire house can hear them. They’ve had trouble with boys in the past, so they don’t take any chances.
The weather here sucks a lot. It’s a little warm in the mornings, cold at night, and ALWAYS rainy in the afternoons and evenings, if not all day. I wear jeans or long shorts, a t-shirt, and oftentimes a hoody because the house is colder than outside.
It is really nice here. It sounds like they’ve got more material possession than most of us, but their lifestyles certainly aren’t enviable. They each do quite a few chores every day, wear clothes that were passed down from someone else (I think they’re usually pretty cute, but they may not, and may sometimes end up with some that aren’t) and wear them until they’ve spilled something on them or played in the dirt (if you’re OCD, this might bother you), and if you’re not an enthusiastic Christian you may not like hearing about God at every meal, memorizing entire passages from the Bible, going to church twice a week, or getting told “that is not very Christian-like!” It’s not like they shove the religion down their throat to the point of vomiting; it’s very easy to see the Bible as just poetic words on how to live, and their parents’ expectations of a Christian as a lifestyle they only have to except for a few years until they’re free. Since there are so many kids, the adults can’t be patient with them, so discipline is tight. When they do something wrong, they immediately get reprimanded and possibly punished.
I like sharing a room with other people, and sleeping in the same full-sized bed with Tabby. Otherwise, I’d be lonely. I don’t like following a schedule or eating what I don’t like to avoid hunger pangs, and the babies give me headaches. But all things considered, I am comfortable here. I hope you guys are happy after reading what it’s like here. I hope I gave you a good enough description, even though I haven’t been in a writing mood.
See you in 4 weeks and 4 days! God bless!
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