I know that having a child of your own is the only way to truly understand motherhood. However, this month, I feel like a mother to most of these street kids. Some of them have families of their but choose not to live with them because of poverty or abuse. Others have no true family and have to fend for themselves. Regardless, every day as I walk the 5 blocks from our storage unit home to Divasoria (the street where the kids hang out), I keep an anxious eye out for “our” kids. I check to see if they are sleeping across the street from our house or under the air-conditioning units of the restaurant down the street. Even from a distance, I can recognize the kids. They come running up yelling, “Ate Shannon” (a respectful title for an older woman). From my perch in McDonald’s talking with parents on skype, I can see Winlove and Beboy running around. I’ve know them well-enough to anticipate when they are about to get into trouble. From the other side of the classroom, I can watch Jun Jun and know that he’s about to kick Tomeo under the table.
Even teenage boys love cupcakes!
It has been rewarding and challenging at the same time. I have the joy of letting exhausted kids sleep on my lap as we ride Jeep-nees across the city. I’ve seen a few of the kids change their behavior as the result of the consistent efforts of my team, Natalie, Megan, and Leah (the girls who run Street Light Ministry). I’ve wiped cupcake frosting off of laughing faces as the struggle to break free and retaliate with their own attacks of frosting. It has been hard to wave goodbye to the kids each night, knowing that they will be sleeping on cardboard box on the corner of the street. By far, most difficult part has been watching the kids fight their addiction to drugs (more on that later).
Brushing Teeth
Thanks to some wonderful friends, Street Light has toothbrushes for all our kids. However, it’s been so long since many of them have brushed that their gums begin to bleed. Perot, our little 5 year old, doesn’t even know the proper way to brush so she spits her bloody saliva onto the ground. Redirecting her efforts, I lift her up so she can reach the sink where I am helping her brother and sister to complete an identical process. Her efforts to comply with my instructions result in her missing the sink and instead landing her bloody spittle into the palm of my hand. With a brief shake of my head, I rinse my hand and proceed to assist Inday and Be-boy to rinse the toothpaste from their mouths.
Waking Kids for Church on Sunday Morning
Most of my family and friends are familiar with my morning routine. Wake up at the last possible moment, dragging my unwilling body out of bed. Beware of speaking to me too soon as I will give a laconic grunt in response. Early Sunday morning, I encounter a child with similar tendencies – JR. It’s time for church so Elissa and I follow his sister Daniella down Divasoria to wake him up. He barely moves as we prod him gently. Eventually, JR and I reach an unspoken compromise – he crawls into my arms and I carry him down the street until he is sufficiently alert to walk on his own.
Bath Time
As 15 or so kids wander in for lunch, school, and showers, logistics often gets complicated. “Gigutom ka?” (Are you hungry?) and “Gusto ka ligo?” (Do you want to shower?) have been some of the most helpful Bisaya phrases I’ve learned. Our little family of three siblings shower together, but they love to take their sweet time. “Pas-Pas! Escuela!” (Hurry up! School!)
JR acting like a thug.
“No!”
By far the most important words I have learned – dili (no), ayaw (don’t), and ayaw a way (don’t fight). Approximately 1,000 times each day, I will repeat one or all of these phrases. I’ve learned to say it as often as necessary and always with a smile on my face.
Where do you think JR learned it? Just playing with their tongue rings.
In the Kitchen
Washing dishes and cooking food consumes a strangely inordinate amount of time this month. We have at least 15 kids that eat lunch, a snack after school, and dinner. As a result, someone on the team washes 20 or so dishes at each meal. In addition to the dishes we have the dubious privilege of dishing out food for the aforementioned ravenously hungry children. Never sure of how many children will be coming, it becomes an art-form to distribute the proper amount to each child while ensuring that everyone gets something.
School
After school hours, I entertain the kids with educational activities, i.e. Blackjack (minus the gambling aspect). I first teach them the game, then ask them to calculate the total before I deal any more cards. Hopefully, they’re able to hone some math skills without even knowing it. The especially interested kids let me teach math, science, or history outside of schools hours.
Doctor
Personally, I always attract injuries and somehow, the people I’m with are usually plagued with injuries as well (I’m thinking of you, Megan). As a result, I’m almost a professional when it comes to using a first aid kit. This month has been relatively healthy; so far we’ve only had a toe gushing blood and and crackers in the eye. Still, a first-aid kit is always your best friend.
Jun Jun asleep outside our door.
Drugs
What do you do when you catch a child with drugs? Do you respond with anger, they know better than to bring drugs to school? Is disappointment better? Will they understand the severity of the problem? What is the proper punishment? No school if you’ve been doing drugs? Can you get food if you give me your drugs in return?
Most of the kids are addicted to a construction glue called Vulca Seal or Rugby. The short-lived high helps soothe the hunger pains they feel daily. But, once they start, they can’t stop. It’s highly addictive and they are stubborn kids.
First day of ministry, Winlove and Beboy walk into the center. I smell something a little odd and I ask, “Do you have any Rugby?” A little reluctantly, Be-boy relinquishes his bag of grey paste. After that, I became the drug police. Before letting the kids into the back of the house to shower, I search their pockets and attempt a discreet pat down.
One of the hardest, but best nights of the Race occurred the third night we were in Cagayan de Oro. I was making my third attempt to finish an Insanity Workout (side-note: it is too stinking hot to work out) with no success. As I struggled into the side-plank, I heard to door of our house slid up and Beboy rolled under the door. The 11 year-old couldn’t even stand up, he was so high. I gently directed him out of the house (the kids can’t come in when they’re high or have rugby). He leaned against me for support as he shuffled away, almost crawling. Going back inside, I realized I couldn’t just leave him in the middle of the street to work of the effects. Thus, Julia and I went outside and sat on the step of our house. Beboy, Winlove, and little Alexander came and sat on our laps. We just let them sit there as they began to drift off. We prayed for them and just held them close.
I don’t have nearly enough wisdom to know all of the right answers. I am just showing love in every way that I can, attempting to show these kids that they are loved by their Father in Heaven.
