Hi guys!
This morning, we went up into the mountains above Cuenca (past where we went on the swings yesterday) to go volunteer. This place wasn't actually an orphanage--it's a daycare called Trini, created so impoverished children would have a place to spend time at while their parents work in the fields. It's staffed by a few Ecuadorean women, and has about 20 kids, ranging from about 9 months to age 5. (I think after that, the kids are sent to school during the hours when their parents are working).
It was so fun! They wanted us do something somewhat educational with the older kids, so before we left, we drew big bubble letters on half-sheets of construction paper. We brought pom-poms, feathers, and pipe cleaners and let the kids decorate the papers. (We figured that it might help them learn the shapes of the letters, at least.)
The drive was pretty long and bumpy but really interesting. (Before I came here, someone advised me to write everything that I was doing down when on any type of transportation, but I haven't been able to do that--I want to look out the window.) As usual, we passed a bunch of wild-ish dogs. Most of them seem pretty tame, but I don't approach them too closely. But a lot of them get fed, and not many look malnourished.
This city is beautiful--here are some of the views from near the top. It's apparently one of the oldest cities in Ecuador, and a lot of the architecture remains from the Spanish conquests, but the outskirts of the city are all green and forested.
As soon as we got to the daycare, we were essentially let loose with the 20 children. (There were 4 volunteers--Drew, Paige, Payton, and me, plus the volunteer director, Keenan). All the kids were outside in the playground of the orphanage, so we spent quite a while chasing them around. Basically, whenever one of the little ones cried, one of the volunteers would scoop them up and twirl them around for a bit until they smiled again. I also got a chance to practice my Spanish reading--all the words try to come out in a French accent, but I've slowly begun to adapt to rolling my r's. (It's so fun, and so many common words have an r in them--gracias, señor, and perdon come to mind). I read the Spanish version of The Very Hungry Caterpillar, and then a book in English about what movements the animals make. One of the girls sitting on my lap loved this one, and as soon as I turned a page she would tell me the name of the animal in Spanish.
The kids then went in for their snack--they each got a pear. All the volunteers are very sticky now. There was one 2ish-year-old boy who was really cute--he was in a high chair, and kept crying. I picked him up, and he pointed his arm to where he wanted to go. I followed to where he was pointing, and he wriggled out of my arms and ran right to another boy, maybe 4, who immediately hugged him until he stopped crying. Apparently they were brothers, and their bond was so obvious and precious.
There was another little girl there with the most stunning dark blue eyes. Most Ecuadoreans have eyes that resemble black pools--so dark that you can't even differentiate the pupil from the iris, but this child had these orbs of blue set into her cinnamon skin. Looking at her, you could tell that one day she would grow up to be truly beautiful.
After the kids ate their snack, the orphanage employees came to us, laughing, with a request. They asked if we would be willing to show them traditional North American songs and dances. The volunteers conferred for a moment, and we decided on "If You're Happy and You Know It." Then we went on to "Let It Go," but I was the only one who knew the entire song, so for the verses I was essentially singing a solo. However, I'm not certain that they were telling the truth about not knowing the song. I refuse to believe that I was the only one in the group who babysat (or had any interaction with a child under the age of 10) during 2014.
They loved that, and a bunch of the little girls were clapping along, so then we went on to "traditional North American dances." We confirmed that no one in the group knew the Cotton Eyed Joe, so we went onto the Macarena, which is technically in Spanish. Oh well. We continued with YMCA, the hokey pokey, and the Wheels on the Bus, but then decided that we knew no more traditional dances. It was the funniest thing--all the little kids were copying us, and we were awful. Paige and Payton went to the same school, and were going to do a dance that they learned from seventh grade (apparently every middle school PE class has a horribly awkward dance unit--I wonder if they had to do the weird German clapping dance), but they couldn't remember the steps, so we just stuck with the easy stuff.
As we left, every little kid came up and hugged us, like a receiving line at a wedding but a bit less orderly. It was the sweetest thing.
In the afternoon, I had another shift with the babies. Good news! Cuma, one of the babies who I met on my first day here, was cleared to go return to her family, so she no longer has to live in the orphanage. (I don't know the background of her situation, or why she was there in the first place, but everyone is very excited for her). I believe that she has a brother in the older group, and he returned home as well.
There were 5 babies in the room today--Erika, Kimberly, Miguel, Hector, and a new boy named Julian. I was pretty sure that Hector had colic or something, because he would not stop crying unless I was both holding him and in motion. So we walked and bounced around his little room for about an hour and a half, until one of the tias had to take him somewhere. Whenever I put him down, he would let out this heart-wrenching little squall, and I would immediately take him up again, because he sounded like he was being slowly tortured.
After Hector left, we played with the kids for a while, tickling them and letting them crawl all over us (punctuated by Erika's occasional "wow's"). Then it was feeding time. (This next part is a little gross. Skip to the next paragraph if you don't like grossness.) Erika, after eating an entire bowl of soup, determined that it no longer belonged in her stomach. Most of the vomit splatters got on her high chair and the floor, but a decent amount got on me. Plus, I had the pleasure of cleaning it up off of the floor. I'm pretty sure that on this trip, I've gotten 8 different body fluids on me (no blood yet, although writing that probably jinxed it). It's an adventure.
OK, grossness is over. This evening, we went to yet another orphanage, near the center of Cuenca. We had another massive soccer game, and I wasn't exactly an asset to my team. I sort of passed to a person on the other team. In my defense, however, they were sisters and were dressed alike, so it was hard to tell them apart. However, I am very good at running back and forth across the field very enthusiastically. Even so, we lost to a group of Ecuadorean kids wearing crocs and pajamas. There was this one boy, probably about 16, who was phenomenal--as soon as he took control of the ball, it was basically in the goal.
After that, a group of volunteers went out to dinner at a little restaurant in the center of Cuenca. It was nice to have an occasion to all talk--the funny, the sad, the heartwarming. We discussed our favorites and least favorites of the kids, as well as the silly things they do. Apparently one boy is still learning how to use the toilet standing up, and tends to leave the bathroom mid-stream. But the talk turned sad as well--I didn't work in the orphanage for the older kids today, but one of my friends was there and said that they got a new girl, who spent all day crying for her mother. I hope she gets to return to her one day.
Thanks for reading, guys! Love you all!
This morning, we went up into the mountains above Cuenca (past where we went on the swings yesterday) to go volunteer. This place wasn't actually an orphanage--it's a daycare called Trini, created so impoverished children would have a place to spend time at while their parents work in the fields. It's staffed by a few Ecuadorean women, and has about 20 kids, ranging from about 9 months to age 5. (I think after that, the kids are sent to school during the hours when their parents are working).
It was so fun! They wanted us do something somewhat educational with the older kids, so before we left, we drew big bubble letters on half-sheets of construction paper. We brought pom-poms, feathers, and pipe cleaners and let the kids decorate the papers. (We figured that it might help them learn the shapes of the letters, at least.)
The drive was pretty long and bumpy but really interesting. (Before I came here, someone advised me to write everything that I was doing down when on any type of transportation, but I haven't been able to do that--I want to look out the window.) As usual, we passed a bunch of wild-ish dogs. Most of them seem pretty tame, but I don't approach them too closely. But a lot of them get fed, and not many look malnourished.
This city is beautiful--here are some of the views from near the top. It's apparently one of the oldest cities in Ecuador, and a lot of the architecture remains from the Spanish conquests, but the outskirts of the city are all green and forested.
As soon as we got to the daycare, we were essentially let loose with the 20 children. (There were 4 volunteers--Drew, Paige, Payton, and me, plus the volunteer director, Keenan). All the kids were outside in the playground of the orphanage, so we spent quite a while chasing them around. Basically, whenever one of the little ones cried, one of the volunteers would scoop them up and twirl them around for a bit until they smiled again. I also got a chance to practice my Spanish reading--all the words try to come out in a French accent, but I've slowly begun to adapt to rolling my r's. (It's so fun, and so many common words have an r in them--gracias, señor, and perdon come to mind). I read the Spanish version of The Very Hungry Caterpillar, and then a book in English about what movements the animals make. One of the girls sitting on my lap loved this one, and as soon as I turned a page she would tell me the name of the animal in Spanish.
The kids then went in for their snack--they each got a pear. All the volunteers are very sticky now. There was one 2ish-year-old boy who was really cute--he was in a high chair, and kept crying. I picked him up, and he pointed his arm to where he wanted to go. I followed to where he was pointing, and he wriggled out of my arms and ran right to another boy, maybe 4, who immediately hugged him until he stopped crying. Apparently they were brothers, and their bond was so obvious and precious.
There was another little girl there with the most stunning dark blue eyes. Most Ecuadoreans have eyes that resemble black pools--so dark that you can't even differentiate the pupil from the iris, but this child had these orbs of blue set into her cinnamon skin. Looking at her, you could tell that one day she would grow up to be truly beautiful.
After the kids ate their snack, the orphanage employees came to us, laughing, with a request. They asked if we would be willing to show them traditional North American songs and dances. The volunteers conferred for a moment, and we decided on "If You're Happy and You Know It." Then we went on to "Let It Go," but I was the only one who knew the entire song, so for the verses I was essentially singing a solo. However, I'm not certain that they were telling the truth about not knowing the song. I refuse to believe that I was the only one in the group who babysat (or had any interaction with a child under the age of 10) during 2014.
They loved that, and a bunch of the little girls were clapping along, so then we went on to "traditional North American dances." We confirmed that no one in the group knew the Cotton Eyed Joe, so we went onto the Macarena, which is technically in Spanish. Oh well. We continued with YMCA, the hokey pokey, and the Wheels on the Bus, but then decided that we knew no more traditional dances. It was the funniest thing--all the little kids were copying us, and we were awful. Paige and Payton went to the same school, and were going to do a dance that they learned from seventh grade (apparently every middle school PE class has a horribly awkward dance unit--I wonder if they had to do the weird German clapping dance), but they couldn't remember the steps, so we just stuck with the easy stuff.
As we left, every little kid came up and hugged us, like a receiving line at a wedding but a bit less orderly. It was the sweetest thing.
In the afternoon, I had another shift with the babies. Good news! Cuma, one of the babies who I met on my first day here, was cleared to go return to her family, so she no longer has to live in the orphanage. (I don't know the background of her situation, or why she was there in the first place, but everyone is very excited for her). I believe that she has a brother in the older group, and he returned home as well.
There were 5 babies in the room today--Erika, Kimberly, Miguel, Hector, and a new boy named Julian. I was pretty sure that Hector had colic or something, because he would not stop crying unless I was both holding him and in motion. So we walked and bounced around his little room for about an hour and a half, until one of the tias had to take him somewhere. Whenever I put him down, he would let out this heart-wrenching little squall, and I would immediately take him up again, because he sounded like he was being slowly tortured.
After Hector left, we played with the kids for a while, tickling them and letting them crawl all over us (punctuated by Erika's occasional "wow's"). Then it was feeding time. (This next part is a little gross. Skip to the next paragraph if you don't like grossness.) Erika, after eating an entire bowl of soup, determined that it no longer belonged in her stomach. Most of the vomit splatters got on her high chair and the floor, but a decent amount got on me. Plus, I had the pleasure of cleaning it up off of the floor. I'm pretty sure that on this trip, I've gotten 8 different body fluids on me (no blood yet, although writing that probably jinxed it). It's an adventure.
OK, grossness is over. This evening, we went to yet another orphanage, near the center of Cuenca. We had another massive soccer game, and I wasn't exactly an asset to my team. I sort of passed to a person on the other team. In my defense, however, they were sisters and were dressed alike, so it was hard to tell them apart. However, I am very good at running back and forth across the field very enthusiastically. Even so, we lost to a group of Ecuadorean kids wearing crocs and pajamas. There was this one boy, probably about 16, who was phenomenal--as soon as he took control of the ball, it was basically in the goal.
After that, a group of volunteers went out to dinner at a little restaurant in the center of Cuenca. It was nice to have an occasion to all talk--the funny, the sad, the heartwarming. We discussed our favorites and least favorites of the kids, as well as the silly things they do. Apparently one boy is still learning how to use the toilet standing up, and tends to leave the bathroom mid-stream. But the talk turned sad as well--I didn't work in the orphanage for the older kids today, but one of my friends was there and said that they got a new girl, who spent all day crying for her mother. I hope she gets to return to her one day.
Thanks for reading, guys! Love you all!
Wow, this sounds very rewarding, but very difficult. We are all very proud of you.
ReplyDeleteThat's pretty accurate. Thank you and I love you!
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