This morning with the blessing of my team, I signed up for a Spanish language course. For four hours a day I will be instructed one on one with a native Spanish speaker. My Spanish will definitely improve, so I will be able to communicate better with the people of Guatemala, Nicaragua, Peru, and Argentina. I am so excited to have the opportunity to learn more Spanish, but I’m not crazy about having to study and do homework.
This morning we helped to clean a local Christian coffee house. We just dusted and wiped down chairs so we did not do much. I think we appreciated being able to help someone just as much as they appreciated receiving the help. Usually when we ask people how we can help they say they don’t need help. We often get the response, “Esta bien.”
This afternoon we visited Obras Sociales del Santo Hermano Pedro. It is an amazing hospital/care home/orphanage funded by donations. They provide care for infants through adults with mental and physical disabilities. Sometimes doctors come in to provide volunteer surgeries, mainly for children with a cleft palette. We started by walking through the older women section. They call the women Abuelitas which means little grandmothers. Many of the wheel-chair bound women made eye contact, shared a smile, and said “Buenas tardes,” as we passed by. We then passed into the section for younger women and met Wendy. Wendy bounced out of the room with a huge smile to greet us. She asked us each of our names. As each person said their name she would say either she liked the name or she didn’t like the name. She did not like my name. Wendy ran her fingers through her hair and confetti fell out. She explained that they had a fiesta to celebrate Carnival. We said goodbye to Wendy and passed into a new corridor.
Each of the age groups and genders have their own area complete with beds, a bathroom, and an eating area. The center is very organized and clean, but I still felt uneasy. Other than helping once or twice with Special Olympics, I do not have much experience with the disabled. I always thought that I would not have a problem with helping out in a place such as this, but I was beginning to realize otherwise. As I walked over a wet patch on the floor, I worried about what the dampness was from. As an abuelita reached out to shake my hand I worried about germs. As a man tugged at my arm I worried about reacting to his touch in a way that would cause me to look foolish. I felt guilty for feeling this way and for not feeling at ease like some of my teammates.
Then we passed into the children’s section of the center. Most of the kids have cerebral palsy, cleft lip, or they are malnourished. They lie within a crib and have limited movement. Our guide explained that the children are in need of stimulation, so one of the biggest ways volunteers can help is by interacting. I came to a crib with a little boy lying still on his back. Our eyes met so I smiled in on him and he returned my smile double-fold. My favorite room was the infant room where about 12 infants and toddlers live. One of the babies looked to be a couple days old when she is actually four months old. A toddler bounced around in his crib with Superman pajamas while an infant gurgled and smiled. This was the room that I want to return to.
At the end of the tour our team decided that we want to volunteer at the center throughout the next couple of weeks. It is definitely going to be out of my comfort zone, but I am looking forward to helping in a tangible manner. The patients simply need interaction, which is something we can provide even with limited Spanish.
