Week one...

Things here are crazy. I never know what to write in here because there´s so much to say, but never the time to say it. This week I planned on just getting a feel for the program and helping out wherever, but then I mentioned weaving to a couple of girls and they wanted to start right away. Brenda and Cindy latched onto me right away, both eight years old. They´re really good kids. The next day I brought in the popsicle sticks, ready to start weaving with whoever wanted to. Brenda and Cindy brought me over to their friend Jennifer, another eight year old and asked if she could weave too. Then I found Wendy, a ten year old I had met on friday, and the four of us went into the classroom. There was another girl, carmen who asked if she could weave too. She is fourteen. Five seemed managable, and I can´t really turn anyone down, so I agreed. It was crazy though. Trying to help five kids glue popsicle sticks together, trying to get them to wait for them to dry, setting up the warps... I didn´t think about how long it would all take versus how short their attention spans are. But three hours later we started weaving. As each girl got on her loom she would become quiet and focuses. Soon enough everyone was sitting on the floor of the ´´library´´ quietly weaving away with their looms. Jenny was especially good at it. Her edges and color choices were really impressive for an eight year old. The next day she told me she wants to be a weaver when she grows up.
The first day was great, but the next day there was a new volunteer and the kids went crazy. But Thursday it was just me again and we all got back on track. It was just three on thursday, but I was having a lot of trouble with carmen, the fourteen year old. The day before I had asked them if their mothers had liked their weavings and she had written me a note that I wasn´t allowed to show anyone. When I got it translated at the english class for adults that I had to teach wednesday night, someone told me that it said her mother had died. I went in on thursday with a little more understanding, but it wasn´t until after class that I got her full story. Blanca, Brooke and I stayed after and talked to Pablo. He told me all the stories of her family- her mother had died last week, her brother is what we call transgender, but here is neither understood nor acceptable, and her father isn´t really in her life that much. And that wasn´t even the worst, but I can´t really go into more details here. He read the note she had written me and the exact translation was ´my mother just died, my grandmother was the only one who liked her, she liked her very much.´
I learned that brenda´s mom is my age, but her family is one of the better ones. Cindy´s parents aren´t seperated, which I was happy to hear. ´so her family is good, right?´ I asked pablo. He told me there were no good families here, but her´s ´wasn´t the worst´ I am learning more and more about how important this place is. These kids come from families full of violence and drugs and parents who didn´t want to have children, and this is a safe place for them to go, where they won´t be wandering the streets looking for sex and drugs. Pablo told me that carmen didn´t like school, didn´t like being at home, wasn´t coming to los patojos for some time, but she liked my weaving project and that´s what was keeping her here.
I have my hands full at this point, I have told pablo that I will try to get a loom donated, I will start a scholarship fund for the kids (I thought it would be to send one kid to college, but then I realized that most don´t even go to highschool, so the idea would be to send everyone to highschool), and I told an adult english student that I will help him with applying to master´s programs in the states. I asked pablo if I got all this together we could continue what I have planned while I am in the states and he said, yes, but you have to come back. I am a bit overwhelmed, but I am excited about this and I´m really happy with what I´m doing.

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