If you give a kid a camera…

You get a bunch of pictures of grass and a few perfect shots.

Hours: 9

Today was a whirlwind. I slept a little later than normal since I was out so late last night. I got up and took a quick shower. Maru said she was popping down the street to find breakfast and would be back in a little… since we thought the van was coming at 13.00. Nope… she and the van got to the front door at the same time, 10.30.

We swung by a local art market. Apparently they hold it every Sunday to give the local artisans a boost. There were some very lovely pieces there. El Mundo was, of course, there as well. We didn’t stay long, the market was serving as a meeting point. Once everyone arrived, we departed for Casa Hogar. Honestly, this is the part of this entire annual visit that I wanted to be the most part of... phrased less complexly it's what I most looked forward to.

Brief history of Casa Hogar:

About 15 years ago, the Torez family heard of a child that needed a home. Though they had 3 of their own, they took the child in. Soon, they had gained many more children in need of homes.

About 7 years ago, Skip, a doctor from California, was in Cordoba doing business. He heard of the family and met with them. He was impressed by their devotion to helping local children have a safe environment to grow up in. However, the house they were in was in a sub-par, dilapidated shape. So he built them a mansion to their specifications... a mansion in the sense that it is large, not extravagant. Its design is quite practical. Two wings to serve as dormitories, one for boys and one for girls. A huge kitchen and dining hall, a bathroom to accommodate the household and a small but lovely chapel with frequent services (the family is very religious). The house is built around a courtyard and has a very Southwest feel in its architecture. All on a sprawling estate nestled in the edges of the mountains.

Under the former government (which was recently voted out), they received next no form of aid. (est. 200 USD over 15 years) The house was run by donation, self sustenance and sheer willpower. They farm the land, growing much of their own food. Chickens, milk cows, pigs, mango, pineapple, cantaloupe, lemons, limes, tomatoes, avocados, and bananas are just some of the products they pump out. In addition to the varied foodstuffs, they also grow a plethora of flowers. This is in part to beautify the land and in part to provide some means of additional income. All extra foodstuffs and all flowers go to market. The birds of paradise are their main seller. The grounds are maintained by the father and 7 or so of the older boys who wake up in the wee hours of the morning (4ish). Their efforts are not unnoticed.

The children range in age from 0 to 20s. Last year, there were 65. Now there are 81. The sudden boom has caused some shortage, especially in the bedding department. They are there for different reasons. Some are orphans. Others are abandoned. A few are from families that cannot afford a child. Some are from abusive families who can come and take them back at any time since they have no governmental protections. (Some, just the father is abusive, so the mother sends the child away and occasionally comes to visit.) Some of the children have medical needs. To the best of their power, Casa provides them with basic medical needs. (i.e. glasses, mosquito protection, etc.) The children go to the afternoon shift of school (schools are different here with a morning and afternoon shift of different students) after helping work in the morning and return to homework and more chores at night. They have 0 opportunities to go into town and hang out as many other children their ages do. This is especially hard on the teenagers. Studying is stressed as a primary virtue; it's seen as a path to betterment and self dependence. Parties are rare and valued moments.

Currently, the family still runs the Casa and seems as if it will into the next generation. They have grown. The eldest son is married and has three children. Extended members of the family also help cook the morning vat of breakfast rice and similar chores. They have given much of their lives to the children. The eldest son did not go to college, instead he moved straight to working to maintain and support the house. The middle son, Juan, has been working with us in town all week. (he's a cool dude to say the least.) He wakes up in the morning, helps get everyone dressed and ready for the day then goes to university (when in session). There, once his classes are through, he hooks into the school's network (actually using one of the first laptops we sent to Cordoba) and downloads additional lessons and learning material for his many siblings. Upon returning home, he downloads the new material onto the lab computers and helps his numerous siblings do homework.

Our first contact with Casa Hogar was establishing for them a lab of 12 desktops and 6 laptops. Since then, our trips there serve several purposes. One is to check the lab make sure nothing big is needed (Juan looks after it well though so no work needs doing) and bring any additional materials that could prove useful. Two is to help Chucho (the father) and Santa (the mother) give the kids something to look forward to and break the harsh daily routine and the feeling of entrapment the situation can have on many children. A focus is placed, especially, on giving the small ones some of the healthy mental stimulation and general affection they need but cannot always readily get (81 is a lot of kids to keep up with)… All of that is a much more flowery way of saying we play with the kids. Three is to renew old contacts and enjoy the company of what have become tight friends. Four is to find out what they need from us and try our best to help. (This year its 1. kitchen supplies 2. bathroom improvements 3. mattresses/beds 4. a phone line.)



We arrived about noon. Everyone came out to meet us and Chucho ran through introductions quickly and welcomed everyone to his home. Chalk came out of a bag and everyone wrote their names on the driveway. Faviolia (one of the local girls who is hosting and notorious for “partying like a rockstar” (40-60% of her English vocabulary is from mTV…she’s fun)) caught a chicken and was petting it and passing it around. We unloaded the bags we had brought. One table for clothing (a ton of SJA Spanish club shirts etc.) and a few extra entertainments (aka the small fans with programmable LED messages John got as an impulse buy at Radio Shack). Another table for snacks, candy and a few other tasty treats. Everyone got to chose something from table A and several things from table B. The kitchen and house wares were brought in as well as the additional laptops for the lab. Then, in good welcoming Mexican fashion, lunch was served. Was very tasty, a huge plate of super fresh veggies, some cheese, salsa verte… they killed a chicken and cooked it up. I was told it was good (going to trust them on this one). And of course, the new love of my life, mango (seriously, I’ve had at least one a day, they’ve grown on me). This time it was coupled with a few other fresh fruits, namely pineapple and cantaloupe.

After lunch settled a bit, we headed down the hill where the gardens meet the playground and (real) football field. Since the first trip there, it’s become tradition to play a game matching us against them. This year was no different. We always loose then jokingly say we’re going to train hard to win the next one. Some of the kids are really impressive. This year, keeping with tradition, we lost. But we did score on them which was quite impressive.

I didn’t actually get to play, one of the little girls I was sitting by on side the field saw me taking pictures and asked to see the one I took of her. She then promptly grabbed my (dad’s) camera and ran off, stopping occasionally and looking back to see if I too was playing chase. By then of course I was. I followed her around for a good part of the next hour as she snapped away. The grass, the cows, the grass, the see saw, the grass, me standing by the roses as she instructed, to the edge of the stream they used to bathe in before they got showers, the grass. She then introduced me to her two sisters. I swear, if they aren’t triplets, they should be.

The rest of the day was spent dancing and playing with more of the kids. On a side note, Chucho can not only dance like a salsa star but sing like one too. It was quite nice. I got to meet and talk with quite a few people and I’m actually proud to say I was able to carry on a few (very simple) conversations in Spanish. The nice thing about working with kids is that you can get by communicating without words or with very few words. Virginia danced with one boy for most of the day, so of course we picked on her a little.

When all was said and done, we were two hours behind schedule, but that’s a pretty normal occurrence. The last 15 minutes were surreal. Everyone from Casa Hogar gathered up under the carport and sang a song of thanks. Then we all said our goodbyes in the traditional manner (a hug with a kiss on the cheek), a bunch of people breaking down and crying. (They were playing Titanic… between that and the emotionally charged situation it’s understandable.) We got in the vans and began driving away. The kids lined the driveway, giving whoever reached out the windows high fives. As soon as we left the gate, they all ran to the back fence to wave at us after we turned the corner. ( I really don’t know how they made it over there so fast.) Like I said, surreal.

Today reminded me some of the little bit of work I did trying to establish a career training center at a north Baton Rouge battered women's shelter. (I'm still bitter that fell apart.) Sure, we did end up spending quite a lot of extra after work time with the kids, but why not.

You know that look a kid gets in their eyes when they’ve been hurt badly by someone or something? Some of these kids have that look. It’s bad enough to see it in adults, even worse to see it in kids. Kids are kids. All of these kids deserve better than a lot of the crap they've been dealt in life. Sure I can't take away bad memories but I can help make a few good ones and try to help give them a chance for something better, right? It's like Sister Judith said, “So many early memories, you can never get another set.” Even if they are stretched thin, Casa Hogar tries to help them gain some good memories and this vague notion of “something better”.

I’m now a vibrant shade of red. More than a little burnt. Though I put sunscreen on, it did little to help, especially since I forgot to reapply and we are at a much higher altitude. My face, ears, forearms and scalp all hurt so much. I’m crispy and red, like a fried tomato. I really don’t care though, it was a good day.

I decided this morning, before leaving the house that I’m doing this next year. Between the new possibilities emerging and the BRAF renewing funding for their work in the project for at least another three years, I can’t not go. Simple plan: I’m going to go home, ninja my dad’s Rosetta Stone: Spanish (which he ordered the *day* before I flew down here), learn as much as I can and start saving. The events of today have only locked that further in my mind. Many of the other girls want to try again too. Taylor for sure, but she’s going to be in Boston with City Year so we’ll see. The hope is the project will gain interest within the St. Joseph student community and spark more effort.

On another side note, small pox vaccination is still required here.

I think I might be out of old bugs to count... I recognize all of the ones I've seen.