Almost a week

Almost a week until round 4 begins at Casa Shalom. This makes me so excited to return to the place that I call one of my homes to see my 16 children I considered my own for 6 weeks. But, not all 16 are currently children at Casa Shalom, only 10 are. The thought of the other six outside of the Casa Shalom walls makes my heart ache. I don't know what situation they came from before their time at Shalom, but I do know that they came to Shalom for a reason. Hopefully things have changed in their guardians making it safe for these six kids to return to their parents, family members or friends, but I just don't know. Some that have left (from the toddler house) have older siblings who still call Casa Shalom home. I can't even imagine what they are feeling, as their younger brothers and sisters are returning to the home they were once rescued from. It breaks my heart and fills me with the hope that the kids will be taken care of and will be loved as they deserved. But, I'm just not sure that it is this way for all of them who leave from Casa Shalom. The only thing I can do is lift them up in prayer that they'd be safe at home or return to the safety of Casa Shalom. 

On a brighter note, I am excited to be surrounded with toddlers again, to drown in the love that the teen girls offer to me each and every time they see me, and to make the most of the calling of the great commission. When I arrived to Casa Shalom starting out with life in the teen girls' house, they were excited to take pictures with me and use anything they could to get more and more pictures. I noticed that they have a few ribbon boards up on their wall and they had asked me while I was living with them if I could print out a picture of us to put up on the wall. I didn't get a chance to over my 6 weeks, but I'm really looking forward to giving them the pictures I printed out a few days ago! 

Every time I think of Guatemala, I think of my little boy whom I fell in love with on day one, Beto. The love that we shared for each other is irreplaceable. I am reminded of it everyday. Is he? He's only a little 5 year old who interacts with tons of missionary teams coming in and out each week. I hope he remembers me for the afternoons we spent cuddled up on the couch together, not for the last week I was there (getting carried out into an ambulance). One of the ladies who works at Vera Bradley with my mom got to meet Beto this past week and shared with him and the Casa Shalom family that she works with "Harper's mom". Even if I am not there physically, I can still come up in conversation (especially this past week). They loved hearing that and seemed to remember who I am. It gave me a few tears in my eyes when my mom told that to me and makes me that much more excited to hug each and every one of the Casa Shalom kids in 8 days. 

Home

Right now, I am unsure of the definition of home. As at "home" as I feel right now in America, I felt just as at "home" in Guatemala with my 100 brothers and sisters. Yes, sure, my blood relatives are here as well as people who speak my language. But is that what really makes it "home"?

Home, to me, is a place to be yourself, an environment surrounded with love, community, friendship, and a sense of purpose. I have most of these things listed in the U.S. and Guatemala. But, I feel empty. I am sitting at my house, clean from a nice, hot, long shower with the TV in front of me, air conditioning on, sitting in my pajamas typing on my phone. Not really fulfilling a purpose, am I?

Of course, I know that God created me with a purpose. These past 6 weeks, I feel that I have filled my purpose to its full potential with my abilities. Now what is my purpose? I don't have a house full of preschoolers to love on, to watch over, or to care for. I don't have to hand wash dishes or hang clothes outside to let them dry. I don't know where to go from here. I have about another month until my purpose is to be a student. Until then, I'm lost. Is this really "home"?

Last day

24 hours from now, I will be hobbling my way through the Guatemala City airport on my way to the world of hot showers, clean sink water, and air conditioning. It's is definitely a bittersweet departure. Being with these kids for 6 weeks, I feel as if I am one of them. I will miss the kids coming up to me just to talk to me about their toy, while I just nod my head, only understand if a few words. I will miss hearing feet run behind me to feel my hand being grabbed by one of my sons/daughters. I will miss the kids saying they want to help me walk to dinner, going slowly with me down each step. I will miss getting hugs around the waist. I will miss being a mom to 16 crazy little angels (Angelitos). 

This past week, before I hurt my knee, thankfully, was one to remember. The kids go to school from January-October, so last week was their summer break, kinda like our spring break. An activity each day, some inside Casa Shalom, some outside. It was an opportunity I took to interact with some of the kids I usually don't get a chance to. I got to spend some time with the teen girls I got to live with my first week here, and also got to know the boys a little better. 

One day, we went to the pool. About an hour drive. One big yellow school bus and a packed 12 passenger van to two pools, probably the size of 40 people total. I'd say there were about 40 people in one pool! A little more packed than I'm used to, but I could tell all the kids were having fun! My shoulders hurt by the end of the day from carrying toddlers atop them and helping the older girls learn how to swim. 

Another day, we got bounce houses, a rock wall, pinatas, fuse ball table, and a foam wrestling mat delivered to the basketball court. Each age group was separate, older kids on the rock wall/wrestling mat, while the younger ones had the bounce houses. It was a well organized, fun filled day. 

On to the park. The entrance reminded me of a scene I might've seen in Tennessee, near the Appalachian Mountains. Tall trees, rock path, and wooden handrails leading down to a wide open area with teeter totters, swings, and even a zip line. We got to take a walk down to a lookout point to see a beautiful view over Guatemala, with city and mountains combined! We crossed over a wooden swing bridge and I got to ride in a rope swing over a valley in the woods (the toddlers were too small!) It was probably my favorite activity from the week. 

Wednesday was my (and Jenna's) going away party. This was an hour for us to interact with just the house moms and the cooks, a chance for them to send us off before we leave tomorrow. Of course, there were many tears, hugs, and photos taken. Each one of them said something to Jenna and I about our work here. A few of them even cried when talking to us! We've not only grown with the kids but also the house moms that we work alongside all day. More goodbyes that will hurt me tomorrow. 

Tonight and tomorrow comes the goodbyes.  I know it will be very difficult for me to leave, and it probably won't hit me until I get home. I know each of these kids has changed my life and I hope that I have had a small impact on at least one.

 

I Was Wrong

I was expecting to start crying on Friday night and continue to all day Saturday. But, I was wrong. Tears started today, Tuesday, 4 days before my departure, but for a different reason than you might think. I mean, who would expect your favorite child sending you to the hospital not a week before returning to your home country?!

The 16 kids and I were all playing in the house together, as school was out today. Beto, the cutie I mentioned in my blog before, wanted to come sit with me and give me some love. My right leg was straight and my left knee was bent, with my left foot on top of my right knee. He comes to sit on my left knee that is not touching the floor. He sat down and it touched the floor, in a way no knee should move. My left knee was dislocated, on the left side of my leg. I quickly pick him up and pull my leg to my chest as much as I could. No house mom was near, I just start to cry and say in my best Spanish whimper, "Dónde está mama?" One of the girls calls the house mom over, very worried for me. She came over and, using my best Spanish to describe what happened, I said, "Mi rodilla está aqui" (my knee is here) pointing to the side of my leg. Before I knew it, at least 6 English speakers were by my side helping me through the pain and helping me talk to the house moms/medical workers. They called the ambulance, and I was sitting on the floor for about tenish minutes before they arrived. Blankets were put under my leg to hold it up, I was fanned, I was prayed over, and I was waited on hand and leg to get whatever I needed: water, pillows, my wallet....

The tears may have started out as a result of pain. They grew into tears of love and care for my children. The 16 kids were standing all around me, most of them crying for me, worried about me. They were sent outside when the ambulance came, and they were sitting on the side of the concrete like statutes, waiting to see where I was going and what was happening to me. 

The 2 medical workers came to my rescue with 2 wooden beams and joint wrap, placing the 2 beams on either side of my leg and holding it together with the beige wrap used for twisted joints. The tighter it got, the worse the pain. Just a bit tighter and my knee popped back into place. The majority of the pain left when my knee was put back where it should be. But, I was still in tears, not knowing if I would be spending the rest of my last week in Guatemala with the kids who were crying just outside the door for me. 

I was lifted onto a wooden pallet laying on the floor. 4 guys, 2 from shalom, carried me outside and into the back of the ambulance. 2 of Casa Shalom's staff members came along in the ambulance with me to hold me in place over the bumpy Guatemala roads and to help me translate. Another staff member was driving behind the ambulance for a ride back to shalom when my hospital time was finished. And I thought I did my time at the hospital earlier this year at school! I was wrong!

About halfway to the hospital and the ambulance stops. The lights were still flashing, but the siren was burnt out. I thought we just hit a bunch of traffic fighting to get into Guatemala City. Nope. I was wrong. I used all the strength that I had to lift my torso with my arms just enough to peek out the windows, only seeing the top of gas tanks. I thought we had stopped to get gas. Nope. I was wrong, again. At the hospital, I was told that the driver was putting air into his tires as slow as he possibly could. Not the best ambulance driver I would say, although the drive was pretty smooth for Guatemalan roads. 

From the hospital, I was put into a rolling bed and taken into a small room, with another patient on the other side of the curtain. I was given pain medicine via IV and taken into radiology for X-rays. 2 were taken and the both looked fine, from what I was told. I never got to see them. 

I finished my pain meds, put cream on my knee, and was given a brace to wear for the next 3 weeks. Thank the Lord that nothing was broken, torn or in need of surgery, although a cast signed by all of the Casa Shalom kids would've been really cool to take home with me, not gonna lie! 

From the hospital, we went to the pharmacy to get my prescripted pain meds and went to Pizza Hut for lunch. There, I broke down. In the middle of Pizza Hut. They all asked me if I was in pain. Nope. It just took me this long and in this circumstance to see how much I am loved. How much I am cared for. How much these kids mean to me. I was crying, thinking that Beto might feel guilty for the rest of his life, when he was just trying to cuddle with me on the floor. Picturing all those kid crying just for me tore me down. Arriving back to shalom, I got huge hugs from my kiddos and happy smiles to see me back at the house. A chair was brought to me to sit in, as well as a smaller one with a folded blanket to put under my foot. I was told by one of the kids that they all prayed for me, and was also provided with a cupcake and fresh papaya. 

Now, I know that Saturday will be extremely difficult, not just because I have to walk through the airport and the plane in a leg brace with a couple of heavy suitcases, but because I will be saying goodbye (or hopefully see you later) to 16 pieces of my heart. I was wrong about the day the goodbye tears would start. I was wrong about the love that the kids have for me. I was wrong about the place that each of them holds within me. I was wrong. 

** A BIG thank you to Zoila, Colleen, and Gabby for taking care of me, working with the insurance company, and dealing with me and all my tears!

Today, I was hit in the face with a shoe

Yes, you read that right. I wasn't only hit in the face with a shoe. I was whipped with sweaters, had backpacks thrown at me, and was told to control the toddlers while they were climbing over the tables and playing with the chairs. 

This morning was rough, all by myself, not being fluent in Spanish, told to watch over 14 kids by myself- while the 2 house moms were out with a child each (14 for me to worry about instead of the full 16). 8 of them were attacking me, finding anything and everything they could get their hands on to throw my way. Climbing on the counters trying to get back the things already thrown at me for a second round and taking the sandals off their feet to whip my direction. I was just sitting in the corner, by the door (incase anyone walked by to help me), grabbing things from their hands and getting them out of reach. 

As tough as this job is, it has been a blast being with the kids 24/7 and getting to see how they live. It's hard to believe that I am over halfway done, that I've been here for almost 4 weeks and just have two left to go. Yes, I am looking forward to a long warm shower. A full nights rest on a comfy mattress. Something  other than beans, rice, hotdogs, and eggs.  Getting a minute to sit without having to worry about a 5 year old doing something wrong (or 16 of them!) Departing from germs and getting rid of my cold (going on 3 weeks now). 

But, I will miss it. I will miss hearing my name with a Spanish lisp. I will miss waking up to the sunlit mountains and the rooster crows. The sense of community between the 100 kids that call Casa Shalom home. The feeling of being wanted, kids fighting over who gets to sit with me in front of the TV. I will miss my 16 children and the house moms that I get to call my hermanas. 

Diving into the culture

    Yes, I have been on 11 mission trips in the past. Yes, I have experienced culture shock, language barriers, and new ways of life. Things are a little different this time doing life alongside the Guatemalans. 

     I now find it normal to shower with a bowl getting my water from a bucket that was filled earlier that day. Little combs are seen everywhere, along with lots of head itching (lice). Instead of a tall glass of cold milk with my chocolate chip cookie, I prefer a wide mug of hot atoll. Fried plantains sound better than French fries. Bedtime is usually around 9 or 9:30, and we wake up most days at 5 or 5:30 (about a normal time, being 2 hours behind FL time). Brushing my teeth with bottled water and throwing away toilet paper is something I've gotten used to for a week or two in the past, but it seems normal to me now. Sometimes it feels as if I do live in an Asian nail salon (where they talk about you in another language), but I have been able to improve my comprehension of the Spanish language these past 3 weeks. I currently have at least 4 bruises on my legs, none of which I know the cause of. I feel incomplete without a fly on/around me. But I am still getting used to new people coming into the house each week to play with my kids. And being called "Amiga", "hermana", "gringa", and "mama". 

   Sunday night, around 7 when it was time time to give 16 kids showers, the lights went out. They were off for a good 15 minutes. I just stood in the center of the room using the flashlight on my iPhone lighting up the room. The kids were afraid, the house moms seemed used to it. That's when it hit me. I was excited when the lights went off. It reminded me that I am living life with 100 orphans. Those who have been neglected, abused, lost, and abandoned. Casa Shalom is the light in their lives. Without it, they would be living/dying in darkness. I was excited to bring the light and joy to those 16 children who have experienced darkness in the past. Those few minutes put my thoughts into perspective as to what a difference this ministry is making in so many lives, Guatemalans and Americans. 

   Taking care of 16 toddlers does not give me much time to make a spiritual difference in these lives as I was hoping I could. But I am trying to make the most of it. This past week, while Living Oaks was here, we did a craft with markers. Yes, all of their hands were covered in marker afterwards. I took each of them to the bathroom and scrubbed their hands. That was a symbol to me of washing their feet, like Jesus did the disciples (John 13). No, I did not wash their feet, but I washed their hands. The reason Jesus washed their feet is because it was the filthiest part of their body, walking barefoot through the desert. After three weeks of doing life with them, I am pretty confident that the filthiest parts of a toddler are their hands- I will spare you the details, but they touch EVERYTHING in reach, believe me! After about 5 minutes of scrubbing each hand, all the marker didn't come off, but they were far cleaner than before. "You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand." (vs. 7) "I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you." (vs. 15) The kids didn't understand the symbol washing their hands meant to me, but as their faith grows and matures, they will know. 

So much excitement, so few days

  Since I last posted about 3 days ago, so much has happened, many ups and downs, but I wouldn't change a thing. I had to say goodbye (or see you later) to the 30 that came from Living Oaks. It was such a good week with them. I didn't get to spend much time with them, but I am thankful that they got to meet the kids I get the privelidge of loving on and living with for 6 weeks. I have now taken the responsibilty of sending updates and photos of the favorites in the toddler house. 

  Yesterday I got the chance to go with the teenagers to a park just outside the orphanage. Two swimming pools- yes, I was pulled in- soccer field, volleyball court, covered picnic tables and small playgrounds/swing sets. The kids also got to ride horses for a small price of about $0.50 and we ate Little Caesar's and ice cream by the poolside together, along with a few stray dogs. One of the boys asked me about my freckles. I told him that I was born with them and that they are gifts of God (as best I could in Spanish). He kept arguing with me, saying he only likes gringos without lots of freckles and that they are bad/ugly. It hurt. One of Living Oaks' favorite kids (I won't say the name), and he decides to tear me down. For the second year in a row (he said he didn't like them to me last year as well). I rubbed it off the best I could and enjoyed the rest of the day with the teens and other interns despite feeling empty and torn. 

  While working in the office one day last week, one of the gentlemen who was just beginning a job with Shalom asked me about the toddlers' house. I provided him information about why many have said the house is out of control. No discipline is enforced for wrongdoing, other than fake threats of taking away meals/desserts (at least I haven't seen it happen). More rules need to be set in place and stuck to in order to help the kids mature and be obedient. He is really trying to bring changes to the orphanage, and I hope I provided the information he needed to best help the little, crazy Angelitos. The kids don't listen to the commands I say to them, and I think the changes made by the workers in the office could help the house moms and I out a lot with bringing order to these 16 children. 

  As I write this, I am sitting on a pillow at lunch with interns Maddie, Katie, Jenna, and Casa Shalom staff members John and Gabriella. We got to attend church service this morning in the same church I went to the past 2 years with the Living Oaks team, after experiencing my first chicken bus, pick up truck rides, and walking on the side of the Guatemalan streets. It was a very tough, hot, uphill 20 minute walk to the bus stop, but it made me feel like an intern for the first time. I felt as if I have a role at Casa Shalom, going out on the town with 5 others. Yesterday was my halfway point, and I know these next 3 weeks are going to fly by just as fast!

Better late than never!

  These past almost three weeks have flown by. I started out living at the top of a hill with 19 other teen girls. By day two, I felt as if I were one of them. They would serve me dinner at the comedor, give me clean sheets and provided me help whenever I was experiencing something new in the house. We would play tic-tac-toe together, hold hands while waking to/from meals and make music videos together using my camera/music- they know most English songs on the radio today! Even though we are no longer living under the same roof together, I still feel as if I am one of them, receiving a hug or smile everytime we pass one another. 
   Now, things are a little different. I am a mother, a friend, a gringa to 13..... no wait, 16 toddlers. 3 have come into the house since my 2.5 weeks with them. One outgrew the baby house, the other two came new to Casa Shalom this week. It is challenging watching 16 kids run, fight, cry, and rough house, but I am so glad I could provide another set of hands for the house moms working with the kids weekly. They do make things hard for me, but I love them all as a mother, friend, sister. 
   I know I probably shouldn't say this about my kids, but I do have a favorite. Beto. 5 years old. A great set of teeth with the cutest smile and laugh. A loving heart that I can hold and snuggle with on the couch watching cartoons (in Spanish). He makes me feel wanted by calling me over just to sit on the couch or telling me right after lunch to sit next to him at dinner. I fell in love with him the day I met him, and I am so glad that I get this much time living with and loving on him.  
  This week, Living Oaks is here with me. It is a great week for them to come. My halfway point. A few of them now understand why I have fallen in love with Beto and are enjoying their time with him. I have loved having them here to share my past few weeks with them and allow them to be a part of it. Introducing them to my kids. Helping with translation (as best I can!), and being the middleman between the team and the house moms. It's been a learning experience, nonetheless. 
   Yesterday, I got a chance to go to a village with them about an hour from the orphanage. I was so thankful to be a part of that experience, getting to serve around 200 kids lunch, toys, and toothbrushes. Interacting with the kids of the community there is something I will never forget. 
   6 weeks outside of my comfort zone and being placed within a house of 16 3-6 year olds is something I never imagined I would be doing, but I couldn't imagine it another other way. These past few weeks, only halfway through, have taught me patience, love, understanding, endurance, and a few more Spanish words. I can't wait to see where the second half of this journey takes me!

Serving food at the village

Beto!!

The comedor

My teen girls during the first week