los calles

Wednesdays at the foundation are slower because the kids have clases de valores throughout the day. During some down-time, I had somewhat of an awakening. I have constantly been thinking about how these children need motivation to come to class, behave well, and learn some English. My state of my mind was on a grand scale, thinking that the kids need to see new places, understand that there are opportunities, and hear success stories about children who used to live at the foundation (not stories like Marisol gets murdered while back out on the streets).

Suddenly, FINALLY, I thought about it on a much smaller scale- stickers! Positive reinforcement could just be they key, my friends. Just like any other younger, unmotivated child, they need something to work for, and they do not get grades, so why would they want to come to class?

After classes yesterday morning, I spent a long time making individual sticker charts for the students in our next couple classes. Most of the children responded fairly well, but as with any intervention plan, effects take time. I made some more today (God bless teacher supply stores in America) and the kids also seemed to enjoy it- at least the little ones did. We shall see how it works from here! I am glad I am able to put some of my special education skills to work here :-)

(for those of you who are bored by classroom talk, I promise I am getting to an important story)

Since it was Wednesday, our day ended two. Helen, the new English girl, left, but Sascha and I decided to go to Barrio Triste with Lucy. Barrio Triste is a very poor and terrible part of the city, and Lucy (the mom of the foundation) goes there every Wednesday to organize some sort of group activity with the young and homeless and give them dinner. I chickened out of going the first two Wednesdays because my Spanish is bad and I figured that would make me the quiet little American here to observe the poor and down-trodden. However, Sascha and Ari have both gone and said that it would absolutely not be like that, so I changed my mind. Plus, I had Sascha there to look much more like a Gringo and translate for me when they speak too fast, right?

Wrong. Sascha ended up throwing her lunch up in the bushes and going home early. So at close to 4pm, I had to make my decision about going with three Tias who don't speak a word of English or finally getting to spend some quiet, private time in this parque I found near my hostel. I walked back towards the foundation, which was towards the metro anyway, and out in the park were about 15 of my loved ones, and I immediately decided to stay. I went to the park and played with the little girls, until I saw Fabian kicking a soccer ball around by himself. I ended up playing soccer with three of the boys for over an hour, and it was so much fun. Aside from laughing a lot and having a great bonding experience with some of the older boys, I got enough mud on me to make me look like I belonged out on the streets. After soccer we went inside to wait. I felt so comfortable and at home at the foundation then, and I had my first fleeting feelings of sadness that I have only one more week left.

Side note: They fed me. They handed me sweets, I ate them. Tia Lucy asked me if I wanted something, and I did not understand what it was, but I figured it would be rude to say no. Turns out she said sandwich, and what did it have? 3 pieces of bread, cream cheese, and bologna. My feet hurt today from carrying around that extra weight.

At around 6:15, a cab pulled up, and in piled 3 Tias, myself, a bucket of french fries, gallons of juice, and buckets of other food.

Side note #2: The tias are all so damn sweet and sometimes they try to talk to me, but we cannot get much said, and for that I feel bad. I would love to be able to know why they are always so bright and smiley and what they think of everything that I have been observing.

We drove into the part of Medellin that I promised my parents I would not go, and there was a line of about 30 people lined up outside a church anxiously awaiting the arrival of they beloved Tia Lucy. They all jumped all over her, and it was immediately clear that this was going to be the highlight of their week. Tia Lucy's rapport with these people was inspiring from the very first minute. A few of them came over and kissed me (Colombian thing, just like New York) and introduced themselves to me with huge smiles and dirty hands. The night's plan was for a soccer game before dinner. The boys grabbed the ball and ran to the park, where we meandered and met them about 10 minutes later.

I did not really know what to do or say, so I just stood and observed while I was not being engaged in simple conversation. What I observed was: their dirty clothes, their bottles of glue, their weird ticks, their physical disabilities, and their absolute love and worship for Lucy. Some of them clearly have deteriorated their brains with drugs to a detrimental degree and were just not all there, but only a few of them did not participate in the soccer game.

At this concrete square, the boys (there was only one girl and she did not play) quickly split up into two teams, shirts and skins. Lucy made them all put these bottles of orange liquid away, telling them that they were not allowed to play if they were sniffing glue.

I had been told about the glue, but it is not the same as seeing it. These people, who range in age from about 9 to about mid-20s, carry around bottles and bags of some sort of very potent glue, and they are constantly putting the bottle up to their mouths and breathing in the fumes. Apparently, in addition to making them high, it makes them not hungry. It is quite disturbing to see, especially when the ones who were sniffing the most were about 9 and 15.

I watched them play soccer in a very fair and organized fashion for what was probably about 30 minutes. They followed the rules, they did not argue once, and when Lucy said one more goal, they picked up the ball and walked off the court without a word of resistance. Some of them were actually really talented. It is so unfortunate that they can only put their talent to use in this way. As soon as the game was over, they all grabbed their things and sniffed glue the whole way back to the church.

At the church, Lucy made them all put the glue away and sat them down in a line against the wall. She proceeded to give them a very serious speech, and although I could not understand most of it, I am certain it had something to do with getting off the streets. I know she talked a bunch about Marisol- they all knew her- and then all of a sudden they all started praying for her simultaneously for 5 minutes; it was a moving sight to behold. The words dug under my skin and I forgot about the desolate street behind my back for those few moments. A lot of them closed their eyes and held their rosary beads, seeming to really have faith in what they were saying. I found this to be interesting on a lot of levels that I will not go into here.

After the prayer and the speech, dinner was served. They got rice, hot dogs, french fries, sandwiches, and juice. When they were done scarfing their food down, they grabbed their extra sandwiches that the tias had bagged and dispersed back out into the streets with glue bottles in hand. One of the older men who helps Lucy every week walked with me to the Metro, where it was absolutely natural to him to engage every beggar in conversation in an attempt to convince them to let him buy them food. He even tried to get a hotel room for a woman, and he told me he would never give them money. The way he spoke to them was not like a man to a dog, as most homeless people are treated. He spoke to them as if they were old acquaintances, and his warmth left a streak behind us that added to the path he seems to have emblazoned in the neighborhood.

I am fully aware that shit like this is all over the streets in my very own country. It was not eye-opening to see the homeless children and the conditions they were in. What was eye-opening was observing these amazing people who spend so much of their lives being completely selfless; these people who make helping others seem like the most natural thing in the world. I am so impressed and inspired by all of these adults that surround me everyday, and I am taking a lot of notes...

p.s. I miss and love you all.

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