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. :)
Monday, July 4, 2011
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!
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Day 12, I Think-The Kids
I’ll describe the kids so you can understand what I’m dealing with.
First, you need to know that this place is a safe haven. The kids don’t want to leave it. Here, they are told they’re loved, fed, given freedom, and enough food to eat-and a warm bed. Their own bed. The small towns around here are Indians, and some don’t speak Spanish, but a weird Indian dialect. Other Guatemalan towns are happier, friendlier, and better off than here. But these towns are owned by Satan. They worship a god of prostitution and alcohol, which leads to the accepting of molestation/rape/abuse of kids. They also drink alcohol like water. When we went into town the other day, we saw men standing with young girls and beckoning passersby.
Lucia is a victim of this. She was fortunate enough to go to school, where a teacher asked her why she wasn’t participating in sports. She replied, “I’m pregnant.” The teacher had the situation investigated into. Lucia and her son, Josue, showed up at Hands of Compassion’s door, 12 years old and a few months old. The responsibility of a child has been lifted off of her small shoulders here, and she treats him as a little brother (well, he is) when she feels like it. She actually prefers Isaac to take care of (the girls have to help with the babies).
Despite having such genetically close parents, Josue is the most advanced of all the babies. He’s usually happy, cries the least, can almost walk, and is always getting into trouble.
Mercedes is a few months old. She was found by the side of a river, with the umbilical cord still attached. Abortion is illegal here (one thing Guatemala has done right) so they resort to dirty illegal abortions and throwing newborns in the river or trash.
Jacob is a year old. He has enormous brown eyes that make him look like the pathetic puppy. He was found in a field, crying. He was taken to a hospital for 5 months until he was given to Hands of Compassion, which is why he is a bit behind.
Isaac is even more behind. He was left in the hospital for 5 months as well, and hates doing anything but lying around. He is a year old and can barely crawl.
Mynor was neglected by his alcoholic parents. He has symptoms of Alcohol Syndrome. This means that he is INSANE. He acts like any other baby-always needs attention and his own way, except it’s accentuated. His screams can be heard from 100 feet away, inside of another house. But he’s adorable. He has chubby cheeks, waddles around, and instead of talking, he points and makes squeaky noises.
Korina was also neglected by her alcoholic parents (everyone around here is an alcoholic) and is the youngest. She is tiny and has the facial features and hair of one of those toy trolls. She’s the best behaved baby and Josh and Donna might adopt her.
I don’t touch Davey, who is Deb and Dave’s son. He is a few months younger than Mynor, but is the same size. They fight a lot, but Davey is favored and gets lesser or no punishments for the same thing Mynor does.
Anjelito, or On-hell-eeto, and his sister Vidalia were abandoned to live off worms in a dump. When they came here, Vidalia had lice and Anjelito’s belly was swollen and had grey hair, which is a sign of malnourishment. They’re beautiful, loving kids, but still have issues. Vidalia was caught cheating in school last week, and Anjelito is so lazy that he is late for breakfast everyday because he takes so long to do his chore, and wets the bed.
Esai, or Ee-sy-ee, looks like a monkey and acts like one too. I don't know his or his siblings' past.
Saul, or Sa-ool, is a taller version of Esai, which makes sense since they're brothers. I don’t spend much time with either of them.
Jeamy, or Jamie, is 13 and has been here for 4 years. She speaks incredible English, is active and helpful, but gets in trouble a lot, mostly social issues with the kids. She's bossy, even with the volunteers, and has the attitude my mother accuses me of having.
Angel, or On-hell, speaks near perfect English and is waiting to renew his visa so he can go back to the states with his adopted parents, the former orphanage directors. He lies sometimes, but is usually pretty helpful.
Maria was abandoned in a hospital when she was 4, and since no one wanted her, she stayed there till she was 7 when her mother decided she was old enough to make money off of by prostituting her until she died when Maria was 10. Maria was then adopted by an old lady who didn’t treat her nicely, and was raped several times while living there. The old hag decided she was too much, and gave her up to HOC. Maria is now 12 years old, quiet, helpful, and stunningly beautiful. She seems so innocent, you’d never guess what her past was like.
Rosa is the second biggest pain here, the first being the almost constant chorus of screaming babies. She is an adorable 3 year old who can barely talk, likes to lie, and doesn’t know colors, animals other than a sheep, the alphabet, or how to count to 10. I tried teaching her, but gave up after 3 days of watching her play the dumb card. I tried bribing her with play time and choco-puffs, the cereal we eat for breakfast every other day, and make Tabby sick.
Yelsi is 17, and I don’t know her past either. She speaks English, and is very mature for her age. She works in town on Saturdays, goes to school in town (while carrying mace on her wrist, of course) and does a ton around here. She is considered one of the adults.
Martina is a special needs child. She is 14 years old, but looks 8. She was thrown into a fire by her mother, (but was rescued by someone else), which is why her face, neck, and arms are deformed. Not only is her body a mess, but she is very mentally retarded. She can’t walk or talk, except when she gives this weird moan-laugh. Each day, an assigned girl (Emily and I have Sundays) drags her out of bed, bathes her, chops up her food to feed her for every meal, lets her sit on a toilet for 20 minutes after wards, reads to her, lets her sit buckled in on a swing outside, makes her stand leaning against a wall for 2 hour-long sessions, makes her walk by holding onto her arms from behind and pushing her feet, changes her diaper, and puts her to bed. This duty is grueling and grotesque. I don’t know how people can do this for a living.
All in all, I love the kids here. They give me headaches, confound me with their stupidity, amaze me with their bilingual skills, make me want to slap them with their attitudes and laziness, and make me want to fix their problems with their lack of innocence, that was taken too early. I was surprised to hear that all of them had been molested except the babies, because they don't show it anymore; the first few weeks however, some of them were touching each other inappropriately.
Of course, they aren't enough to keep me in Guatemala-this is the part where I gush cheesiness. I am actually a bit homesick for the people I love, and I want fall asleep thinking about them every night.
First, you need to know that this place is a safe haven. The kids don’t want to leave it. Here, they are told they’re loved, fed, given freedom, and enough food to eat-and a warm bed. Their own bed. The small towns around here are Indians, and some don’t speak Spanish, but a weird Indian dialect. Other Guatemalan towns are happier, friendlier, and better off than here. But these towns are owned by Satan. They worship a god of prostitution and alcohol, which leads to the accepting of molestation/rape/abuse of kids. They also drink alcohol like water. When we went into town the other day, we saw men standing with young girls and beckoning passersby.
Lucia is a victim of this. She was fortunate enough to go to school, where a teacher asked her why she wasn’t participating in sports. She replied, “I’m pregnant.” The teacher had the situation investigated into. Lucia and her son, Josue, showed up at Hands of Compassion’s door, 12 years old and a few months old. The responsibility of a child has been lifted off of her small shoulders here, and she treats him as a little brother (well, he is) when she feels like it. She actually prefers Isaac to take care of (the girls have to help with the babies).
Despite having such genetically close parents, Josue is the most advanced of all the babies. He’s usually happy, cries the least, can almost walk, and is always getting into trouble.
Mercedes is a few months old. She was found by the side of a river, with the umbilical cord still attached. Abortion is illegal here (one thing Guatemala has done right) so they resort to dirty illegal abortions and throwing newborns in the river or trash.
Jacob is a year old. He has enormous brown eyes that make him look like the pathetic puppy. He was found in a field, crying. He was taken to a hospital for 5 months until he was given to Hands of Compassion, which is why he is a bit behind.
Isaac is even more behind. He was left in the hospital for 5 months as well, and hates doing anything but lying around. He is a year old and can barely crawl.
Mynor was neglected by his alcoholic parents. He has symptoms of Alcohol Syndrome. This means that he is INSANE. He acts like any other baby-always needs attention and his own way, except it’s accentuated. His screams can be heard from 100 feet away, inside of another house. But he’s adorable. He has chubby cheeks, waddles around, and instead of talking, he points and makes squeaky noises.
Korina was also neglected by her alcoholic parents (everyone around here is an alcoholic) and is the youngest. She is tiny and has the facial features and hair of one of those toy trolls. She’s the best behaved baby and Josh and Donna might adopt her.
I don’t touch Davey, who is Deb and Dave’s son. He is a few months younger than Mynor, but is the same size. They fight a lot, but Davey is favored and gets lesser or no punishments for the same thing Mynor does.
Anjelito, or On-hell-eeto, and his sister Vidalia were abandoned to live off worms in a dump. When they came here, Vidalia had lice and Anjelito’s belly was swollen and had grey hair, which is a sign of malnourishment. They’re beautiful, loving kids, but still have issues. Vidalia was caught cheating in school last week, and Anjelito is so lazy that he is late for breakfast everyday because he takes so long to do his chore, and wets the bed.
Esai, or Ee-sy-ee, looks like a monkey and acts like one too. I don't know his or his siblings' past.
Saul, or Sa-ool, is a taller version of Esai, which makes sense since they're brothers. I don’t spend much time with either of them.
Jeamy, or Jamie, is 13 and has been here for 4 years. She speaks incredible English, is active and helpful, but gets in trouble a lot, mostly social issues with the kids. She's bossy, even with the volunteers, and has the attitude my mother accuses me of having.
Angel, or On-hell, speaks near perfect English and is waiting to renew his visa so he can go back to the states with his adopted parents, the former orphanage directors. He lies sometimes, but is usually pretty helpful.
Maria was abandoned in a hospital when she was 4, and since no one wanted her, she stayed there till she was 7 when her mother decided she was old enough to make money off of by prostituting her until she died when Maria was 10. Maria was then adopted by an old lady who didn’t treat her nicely, and was raped several times while living there. The old hag decided she was too much, and gave her up to HOC. Maria is now 12 years old, quiet, helpful, and stunningly beautiful. She seems so innocent, you’d never guess what her past was like.
Rosa is the second biggest pain here, the first being the almost constant chorus of screaming babies. She is an adorable 3 year old who can barely talk, likes to lie, and doesn’t know colors, animals other than a sheep, the alphabet, or how to count to 10. I tried teaching her, but gave up after 3 days of watching her play the dumb card. I tried bribing her with play time and choco-puffs, the cereal we eat for breakfast every other day, and make Tabby sick.
Yelsi is 17, and I don’t know her past either. She speaks English, and is very mature for her age. She works in town on Saturdays, goes to school in town (while carrying mace on her wrist, of course) and does a ton around here. She is considered one of the adults.
Martina is a special needs child. She is 14 years old, but looks 8. She was thrown into a fire by her mother, (but was rescued by someone else), which is why her face, neck, and arms are deformed. Not only is her body a mess, but she is very mentally retarded. She can’t walk or talk, except when she gives this weird moan-laugh. Each day, an assigned girl (Emily and I have Sundays) drags her out of bed, bathes her, chops up her food to feed her for every meal, lets her sit on a toilet for 20 minutes after wards, reads to her, lets her sit buckled in on a swing outside, makes her stand leaning against a wall for 2 hour-long sessions, makes her walk by holding onto her arms from behind and pushing her feet, changes her diaper, and puts her to bed. This duty is grueling and grotesque. I don’t know how people can do this for a living.
All in all, I love the kids here. They give me headaches, confound me with their stupidity, amaze me with their bilingual skills, make me want to slap them with their attitudes and laziness, and make me want to fix their problems with their lack of innocence, that was taken too early. I was surprised to hear that all of them had been molested except the babies, because they don't show it anymore; the first few weeks however, some of them were touching each other inappropriately.
Of course, they aren't enough to keep me in Guatemala-this is the part where I gush cheesiness. I am actually a bit homesick for the people I love, and I want fall asleep thinking about them every night.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Day Three-The Orphanage
6/21/2011
Just a heads up-I'm a bit delirious and am not in a writing mood, so bare with me.
This is a beautiful place, on every level. The orphanage is a huge stone house with either wooden or tile floors. Outside is a large fenced in yard, covered in berry bushes, a playground, two dogs and their three baby puppies, flowers, two cows living in shacks made by the kids, large rocks good for climbing, and exotic foliage all over the place. There are 24 kids, all of them beautiful and scarred. I'll post a blog about all of them later. Dave (23) and Deb (26) are the owners. Deb has lived here for years with her parents, who left a while ago to take care of their sick mother in the States, leaving their newlywed children in charge. Dave met Deb when he came on a mission trip here. They talked nonstop, and he came back a year later. When he left, he knew he made a mistake, and was about to call Deb’s father but received an email from him instead, telling him to come back. Deb had also emailed him, quoting “since you’ve been gone, it feels like the prince has left the palace.” So he asked her father permission to return and start a relationship with her. They’re celebrating their 2 year anniversary July 4th. I think that’s adorable! Josh (21) and Donna (22) are also a married couple who are living here for two years. The teachers of the kids’ home-schooling program will only be living here for a few months, which is sad because they’re a huge help with getting the kids out of the house in the mornings and afternoons.
If you’d like to know the atmosphere-well, with 24 kids, 5 dogs, 2 talkative cats, 4 adults, and 3 volunteers, it’s bound to be chaotic. It is also extremely loving. On the first night here, Dave explained that these kids are not orphans. They call Dave and Deb mom and dad, because they are their parents now. Even though the kids were born in the lying and cheating Guatemalan society, they’re being raised to treat each other with respect. It is also so very accepting, as every kid here has their story.
It amazes me at how young these 4 people are that decided to take on the raising of 24 kids, 8 of them below the age of 4. It makes me scoff at people who are too afraid to give up their lives to God, because here are Dave and Josh talking about shooting people in a computer game while changing 7 diapers in a third-world country.
Just a heads up-I'm a bit delirious and am not in a writing mood, so bare with me.
This is a beautiful place, on every level. The orphanage is a huge stone house with either wooden or tile floors. Outside is a large fenced in yard, covered in berry bushes, a playground, two dogs and their three baby puppies, flowers, two cows living in shacks made by the kids, large rocks good for climbing, and exotic foliage all over the place. There are 24 kids, all of them beautiful and scarred. I'll post a blog about all of them later. Dave (23) and Deb (26) are the owners. Deb has lived here for years with her parents, who left a while ago to take care of their sick mother in the States, leaving their newlywed children in charge. Dave met Deb when he came on a mission trip here. They talked nonstop, and he came back a year later. When he left, he knew he made a mistake, and was about to call Deb’s father but received an email from him instead, telling him to come back. Deb had also emailed him, quoting “since you’ve been gone, it feels like the prince has left the palace.” So he asked her father permission to return and start a relationship with her. They’re celebrating their 2 year anniversary July 4th. I think that’s adorable! Josh (21) and Donna (22) are also a married couple who are living here for two years. The teachers of the kids’ home-schooling program will only be living here for a few months, which is sad because they’re a huge help with getting the kids out of the house in the mornings and afternoons.
If you’d like to know the atmosphere-well, with 24 kids, 5 dogs, 2 talkative cats, 4 adults, and 3 volunteers, it’s bound to be chaotic. It is also extremely loving. On the first night here, Dave explained that these kids are not orphans. They call Dave and Deb mom and dad, because they are their parents now. Even though the kids were born in the lying and cheating Guatemalan society, they’re being raised to treat each other with respect. It is also so very accepting, as every kid here has their story.
It amazes me at how young these 4 people are that decided to take on the raising of 24 kids, 8 of them below the age of 4. It makes me scoff at people who are too afraid to give up their lives to God, because here are Dave and Josh talking about shooting people in a computer game while changing 7 diapers in a third-world country.
Day Two-The Dirty Work
6/19/2011
I haven’t ached this much since I took my four hour long (only a 2 minute break, and no drink breaks) black belt test. My calves, back, hands, fingers, and shoulders hurt like never before and my hands are blistered. Yesterday, we went a half hour away to a feeding center on Foot’s Hill, by infamous NASCAR driver, Richard Leister! He claims he has a Guatemalan driver’s license; well, he drives dangerously fast over rough terrain, dodges other vehicles coming directly at him, and doesn’t make sure all his passengers are wearing seatbelts. He surely does have a Guatemalan license! Drivers here are worse than drunk American drivers. The road to Foot’s Hill was mostly unpaved, was constantly steep, and wet. Imagine riding in the back seat of a boxy 13 passenger van, all of which were praying, with an old deaf man fish-tailing on skinny, wet, mountainous roads. After we finally got as far as we could go , we walked up a littered dirt road surrounded by free running chickens, cows, gorses, and diseased dogs which I resisted petting. Our jobs at the feeding center were to build steps into the hill, and add more space to their “soccer field” by leveling off this here cliff. We did this by loosen to dirt and rocks with a pick, hoeing it down, and shoveling it into wheel barrows from 10 A.M. to 3:30 P.M. with a half hour lunch break. Owies!
I obviously hate this kind of mission work. I'm a 107 lb bag of wuss, and I feel like my body could best be used elsewhere, than feeling useless compared to everyone else who were much more productive. But at the same time, I was doing what I loved; helping people. I don't care if I still ache three days later and sweat like a pig (I hate sweating) and am so bored I'm naming the worms I find in the dirt. I'm doing what God wants me to do--
and this isn't just an optimistic Christian viewpoint I guilt trip myself into saying. I hated what I was doing, and even though I didn't get to see the outcome, I sincerely am glad I did it.And then I remember all my friends who asked why I wanted to go to a third-world country for 7 weeks, and told me they would never have the guts to do what I'm doing. Open your eyes. There are children eating worms in dumpsters and who have never had a stuffed animal. It costs $24 a month to clothe, feed, and educate them. I understand that not everyone is called to be a missionary, but we are called to love each other and have compassion.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Day One,At The Hotel Villa Espanol!
I'm chilling in our hotel complex's lobby (I say it's a complex because of the concrete walls and gate protecting us from annoying people wanting to do things for us for tips), listening to...Miley Cyrus and Eminem...in Guatemala now. In a hoody. Apparently June is the rainy season.
Anyways, flying down was pretty much a breeze. When Rich, the director of Field of Harvest Missions, booked our flights they told him we were each allowed two check through bags and two carry-ons. The rules changed without notice, and we had to pay an extra $30 for each extra check through suitcase we had, which were ironically filled with ministry materials and stuffed animals for the orphans. Thanks, American Airlines. This is exactly what we want at 4 freaking A.M.
The flight to Miami was 2.5 hours and I slept against the window, and next to an old guy. The flight to Guatemala was also 2.5 hours, and I slept against the window and next to a Guatemalan kid and his mom. They looked at me funny =}
We breezed through customs where they looked at our passports and papers we filled out (I've a feeling it won't be so easy getting back in) and we made it to the other side!
My team is pretty sweet. I listened to Shane sing Tom Petty in every airport and scream at his IPod games on the way to the hotel. Emily is the name of my roomie. She makes really good conversation and has the same aspirations for her life as I do. It feels really nice to be understood; to have someone else who lives their life day-to-day, waiting on God to call them to the next school, town, or country, for only He knows how long.
I just told my dad "I'm so happy to be out of that country and away from its idiots!" referring to specific people, of course. Hpwever, Guatemala is obviously uncomparable to America. In America, little men don't try to handle your luggage without permission and ask for tips. We have alarm systems, not barbed wire and ten foot tall gates around our property. We have educated parents who know not to move their eyes away from us when we're toddlers. We also have much better fashion sense than even the wealthiest Guatemalans. =]
For those of you WU kids who know Esteban Saldi, he is an amazing teacher. I wish I spent more time with him now, because I've no idea what anyone is saying. But since English is an influential language enough for its popstars to be blasting from hotel lobbies a on other continents, most people speak at least a little. For instance, the chick at Burger King (we've also got McDonalds down here) knew what Ketchup was. And it was Heinz!!!
Tonight we're going to practice our skit, eat dinner at Poyo Campero (the Guatemalan version of KFC) and go to a Guatemalan mall (HIGH EXCITEMENT!) Then a reallyyyy long nap in an actual bed, which I haven't slept in for 24 hours. Hooray!
I hope everyone is doing well up there! Let me know if Obama gets assassinated while I'm gone. Peace out, girl scouts!
Anyways, flying down was pretty much a breeze. When Rich, the director of Field of Harvest Missions, booked our flights they told him we were each allowed two check through bags and two carry-ons. The rules changed without notice, and we had to pay an extra $30 for each extra check through suitcase we had, which were ironically filled with ministry materials and stuffed animals for the orphans. Thanks, American Airlines. This is exactly what we want at 4 freaking A.M.
The flight to Miami was 2.5 hours and I slept against the window, and next to an old guy. The flight to Guatemala was also 2.5 hours, and I slept against the window and next to a Guatemalan kid and his mom. They looked at me funny =}
We breezed through customs where they looked at our passports and papers we filled out (I've a feeling it won't be so easy getting back in) and we made it to the other side!
My team is pretty sweet. I listened to Shane sing Tom Petty in every airport and scream at his IPod games on the way to the hotel. Emily is the name of my roomie. She makes really good conversation and has the same aspirations for her life as I do. It feels really nice to be understood; to have someone else who lives their life day-to-day, waiting on God to call them to the next school, town, or country, for only He knows how long.
I just told my dad "I'm so happy to be out of that country and away from its idiots!" referring to specific people, of course. Hpwever, Guatemala is obviously uncomparable to America. In America, little men don't try to handle your luggage without permission and ask for tips. We have alarm systems, not barbed wire and ten foot tall gates around our property. We have educated parents who know not to move their eyes away from us when we're toddlers. We also have much better fashion sense than even the wealthiest Guatemalans. =]
For those of you WU kids who know Esteban Saldi, he is an amazing teacher. I wish I spent more time with him now, because I've no idea what anyone is saying. But since English is an influential language enough for its popstars to be blasting from hotel lobbies a on other continents, most people speak at least a little. For instance, the chick at Burger King (we've also got McDonalds down here) knew what Ketchup was. And it was Heinz!!!
Tonight we're going to practice our skit, eat dinner at Poyo Campero (the Guatemalan version of KFC) and go to a Guatemalan mall (HIGH EXCITEMENT!) Then a reallyyyy long nap in an actual bed, which I haven't slept in for 24 hours. Hooray!
I hope everyone is doing well up there! Let me know if Obama gets assassinated while I'm gone. Peace out, girl scouts!
Monday, May 16, 2011
Yeah, That's Right. I'm Talkin To YOU!
Psalm 139:14
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
The only incentive we need to take care of ourselves. Because God is GOD! He is EVERYWHERE: from the depths of the ocean to the top of the tallest snow covered mountain, from the bottom of Loch Ness with Nessie to inside your bedroom, from inside Alcatrez to inside your heart. He made EVERYTHING: the stars, psychology, sleepovers, laughter, hugs, fireplaces, snowball fights, Waynesburg University, kittens, Sea World, music! He’s brilliant, a genius, a mastermind. God doesn’t create trash. He creates fetuses that are meant to be beautiful and dance in white dresses and form close bonds with each other, but somehow are born from the womb and are influenced and messed up by the world and make the wrong decisions and hurt instead if Love each other.
This all-powerful Being created you: your desires, yours needs, your passions, your traits, your beautiful body. Being created by Him is an honor all in itself. But the sad thing about being human is that we have human eyes and not only can we not see His complete glory, but we can’t see the complete beauty in ourselves. We are fearfully and wonderfully made. That means that you are a complicated, intricate, interesting, admirable, inspiring, beautiful being.
So take care of yourself. Eat your veggies and don’t stress yourself out too much. Treat yourself with respect. Dress modestly, don’t purposely hurt yourself, and don’t let anyone see what’s meant for your hubby, who will Love you unconditionally and bring you flowers just because and make you laugh harder than anyone else and make you feel the most comfortable and safe you’ve ever felt around anyone.
He doesn’t want you to be going through this. He wants you to know that you’re loved, and he’s waiting for you.
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