A group came into Casa Maria with a surprise activity. We felt relived that they were bringing activities for the morning and greeted them with enthusiasm. They did not seem as excited to see us but quickly nodded in our direction and went to work.
Without even so much as a nod in the resident’s direction, they set up a table and began preparing a meal. A large steaming pot of tamales was opened and the ladies began putting them on plates to pass out. At this point it was about 9:30 am and the residents had just eaten breakfast so it seemed a bit odd to be passing out hot tamales and rolls.
Within minutes the volunteers had carelessly passed out plates of steaming hot tamales, setting them in the wheelchair bound residents laps. Many of the residents have a hard time moving their hands and were unable to do anything with the hot plate of tamales. Some attempted to grab pieces with their hands, shoving it into their face, pieces dropping to the ground.
Florencia, the woman who had fallen on her face the day before, was not doing well and as she went to pick up the plate she lost control and the entire plate went into her face. The “tamale volunteers” glanced in her direction but let her deal with it on her own. I quickly rushed over to her and began spoon feeding her, her battered face still looking rough from the day before.
Another plate was set on the lap of Christina. She was clutching a baby doll, a real baby in her mind, so setting the baby down on the ground in order to eat was not an option. The volunteers didn’t seem to care and left her with the plate. With no hands available to maneuver she was left paralyzed with this plate sitting on her lap and a “baby” to care for. Kat ran up to her and offered to care for the “baby” while she ate. She hesitantly agreed as Kat took the baby and rocked it as if it were real, assuring her that it was taken care of.
Another volunteer set a plate on the lap of the man tied to the pole. For me this was just too much, it was obvious that he was restrained so the idea of him being able to eat by himself was ludicrous. Luckily, one of the nurses quickly came in and helped him eat.
Doing our best to help the residents eat, the "tamale people" only continued at their hurried pace, not noticing the needs of those they were serving. At this point, bits of tamales were covering our dear elderly friends, creating a hot mess in the wheel chair section of the court yard… a mess we were left to clean up.
After throwing unopened cookies at the residents, the "tamale people" left as quickly as they had arrived. With unopened cookies tempting our residents, I hurriedly went around helping them open their treat, packets that proved difficult for even me to open. To think that the residents would be able to open them with their greasy tamale hands seemed ridiculous.
I began thinking about the "tamale people". I got the sense from them that they wanted to help, they wanted to feel like they were doing something but only ended up making a bigger mess. It got me thinking about the race, even though we are here for a month and we are getting to know each resident on a deeper level than simply handing them a plate of food, we will still have to leave in a month, leaving the nurses to care for our precious abuelitos.
The "tamale people" showed me the need for long-term volunteers, people willing to sacrifice for more than a week or two, people willing to make a lasting difference. I don't think this has to be in places around the world, it can be right at home, making a difference in your workplace or neighborhood. I do know for sure that I want to be a person who is willing to make a long-term difference, not someone who comes in and “throws tamales” at the elderly.
