Veganism and other new experiences

The most unlikely place I ever thought I would become a vegan is in a South American orphanage. But low and behold...I'm trying it. A girl here is a vegan and has inspired me to try it out. And the fact that the meat in the Hogar is a bit sketchy paired with the fact that 4 lbs of bananas, oranges, strawberries, mangos and peaches cost a total of $2, it's hard not to WANT to only eat fresh fruits and vegetables. Oh and Mamita's homemade bread (surprisingly vegan...) is delicious. I'm all set and it's worked out great so far. I've cut out the powdered milk ( a real loss..) and I feel a lot better. So yes, I am in an orphanage and I am vegan...temporarily I think, but who knows.

Today I went in with a few kids to the children's hospital in Lima. I was lucky enough to take in Lizbeth, my brand new favorite child, ALMOST as great as Panche ( but no one will ever take the place of her). I also took Sanchez, a burn victim, and Jason a boy who is slowing re-growing his leg into the city on a public bus.

I'll start this story off by saying there's a reason they only charge 40 cents for an hour ride and it's because the bus drivers are determined to kill their passengers. It really can't be that bad..right? Oh yes, it is. A bus this morning was so close to hitting me that the side mirror of the other bus went into my window. To be honest, I was pretty sure I wouldn't make it to the hospital. Peruvians drive like spastic crazy people who are constantly weaving in and out of traffic in a perfect symphony of  chaos. Right when you think you're about to be in a 13 car pile up the driver pulls a quick turn to barely miss the person, bus or motorcycle it was aiming for 3 seconds earlier.

After making it to the hospital in one piece we got into the "really nice children's hospital". Typical SA style....really nice means something a little different than what you are thinking...The surgery patients go through the waiting area to get to and from the recovery/prep rooms and anyone is allowed to approach them. Sanitation is not really the main priority here....The kids had their appointments and and it was time to head back.  The nurse that went in with us decided to stay in the city so it was me with two children who can't walk and only one who knew the way. I actually surprised myself with my upper body strength and somehow lifted both kids onto the bus in the 40 seconds before it took off again.  It's a miracle we made it back to the Hogar.

Baby Hour

Let's just it out there in the open. I. LOVE. THESE. CHILDREN. They are the most incredible, resilient children you will ever meet. If they aren't facing a mental disability, it's a physical disability and for many of them they are burdened with both. 

I have to say that I love a lot of things at the Hogar. But the one thing I hold above all else is what we like to call "baby hour". Whoever thought of baby hour was a genius.(A little background: the Hogar has a nursery that has roughly 8 little ones, aged 4 months-3 years old and many of them have cleft lip/pallet issues or clubbed feet. A few have more serious conditions but they are all adorable.)

So onto baby hour, it is two hours in the morning and an hour in the afternoon where my only job is to PLAY WITH BABIES. That's it. You just have to entertain and cuddle babies for a few hours to make sure the nurse staff doesn't go crazy and the babies don't go without TLC. We usually take them to the park in the afternoons and watch them destroy the flower beds or roll around in the grass.

I love baby hour for many reasons. A big reason is Adriana, a three year old with severe mental disabilities. She has coke bottle glasses and a smile that melts your heart. She is always my baby at baby hour and she knows it.You cannot be sad when you see her, it's impossible. And she loves to pick each petal from the flower. She does this with a very forlorn look on her face like she's playing the saddest game of "he loves me, he loves me not". It's absolutely hilarious, because her face is so convincing that you really believe she's lost her school yard crush. Another big reason that I love baby hour is that the babies know when it's time and they all jump up in their crib (if they can stand) to give you the BIGGEST smile as you come into the room to collect them. They practically leap into your arms.

If you have ever felt unimportant, a little sad, or have had a really bad day, three days with baby hour will change your life. Oh and the best part is that when you're done running them around and they are a little tired and cranky...back into the arms of the nurses they go. It never fails that the minute baby hour is up is the only time the little ones get grumpy.  Did I mention I LOVE BABY HOUR?

South America Round 2

As just about anyone who will listen to me knows, the economy hasn't been very kind to me. It hasn't been for my lack of trying, I wish my bank account was padded enough so I didn't have to worry about impending student loans; but it's not. And this constant worry about jobless-ness is, in part, what has driven me to take another flight to South America. After nearly 100 rejections from companies all over the states I was beginning to become obsessed, and NOT in a good way. After all, I worked hard in college, never without a job that related to my major, to build a great resume and to not be in this boat...apparently so did the other million recent graduates without jobs. In reality, I just couldn't sit in Houston NOT worrying about my debt, when an interview would finally prove fruitful and what I was going to do in the meantime. It has been, to say the least, unhealthy.

In true Claire Quinn fashion I decided to leave, to get away and to find a distraction that doesn't involve corporate America. I know that the lessons I am learning here, unemployed, will all fit into one big puzzle and thankfully I know that the Hogar for sick and disabled children where I am volunteering is also part of that huge puzzle known as my life at age 23.

I have always been a strong believer that if you feel bad about something or yourself paying it forward can change everything. We are created to give to others; as people we love to help others in our community (whether that's in your suburb or in Africa, we are all one community). And after all the self-pity I've been trying to avoid sinking into I've decided I needed a little humility, given to me by children who deal with REAL problems: the kind of live or die issues that I've never been faced with.

After all, my problems involve my pride being pounded into oblivion, not being hit by a car and wondering how you will make it with ONLY one limb left. This is my experiment to help others to put my problems into perspective and to make me more grateful for the life I was given (jobless or not).

I was once told that when we look at the sick and seemingly helpless as sick and helpless we are missing the mark. In most cases those very people we feel sorry for reveal a hope that exists among us; hope and joy that outshines our version of happiness. That is the lesson they can teach us, because they have less, they are able to grasp what happiness really is. That it is joy felt because they are alive and happiness because they are grateful for this life.

These are the lessons I need to be reminded of.

Bittersweet

My life at the Hogar was short by most missionary and travelers standards. Especially to those serving in the peace corps (they have 2 years! I may or may not have considered it...!) But my life here was life changing. The good and bad in me came out during these almost impossible 4 months and I learned what parts of those I would really like to keep around (like my ability to LAUGH at anyone...) and what I`d like to leave behind (like my natural born leader-like qualities...they aren`t all that conducive to life).

My goodbye was said at bed time the night before and I stole away in at 5 a.m. the next morning to catch an early flight. It might not have been the best way to leave my home for the last 4 months but I preferred having my girls wake up to my empty bed (after sufficient goodbyes the night before) than watch me drive away. Or maybe I preferred not having to drive away with all of them watching... There isn`t really a good option to leaving but I decided what I did was my best one. In the end reality strikes that leaving is the eventual consequence of coming in the first place...all things must end.

My life in Santiago, Chile as a mother to 14 girls, and a Tia to 35 more has ended and I`ve embarked on a 5 day rest and restore trip to Buenos Aires and Uruguay. The best part is the amazing place I`ve been allowed to hole up in, thank you to the Franklins for that! My R&R requires lots of sleeping and processing and figuring how to transition into the business world. To trade meetings and entry level requirements for my past of early morning school routines and teaching math and English in estudios to screaming children.

One thing is for sure, my lessons and hardships I struggled through won`t be put aside or forgotten and neither will my girls. My girls have claimed a spot in my heart and etched all of their memories, the good and the bad, into it. The lessons I`ve learned and the happiness I was given (made much greater by the work I had to do to get it) will stay with me. I hope the work world provides half the challenges I`ve grown accustomed to at the Hogar (although it`s already proving to be challenging just getting INTO the work world). I know it won`t offer half the happiness but stability and a normal life is calling my name and fo the time being I don`t feel like a flight risk. Plus I`ve discovered something about the life of helping people that I love. You can do it anywhere, as close as your neighborhood or as far as South America, even though the latter is much more adventurous and exotic.

And I think my grandmother on my dad`s side passed down the traveling gene (she was after all the one who up and left the states to teach in Africa with her two young sons). I know I`ll be back on the road sooner, rather than later, or at least I hope I don`t eat my words. But I want to travel a different way from now on. Offering a few days of volunteer services to an organization in need for an insight into the people of the country and a few insider tips ( it saved me from getting on a TERRIBLY dangerous bus line once..) We`ll see where the road leads me but I`ll be sure to start up this blog again if another opportunity comes my way and hopefully you`ll still read.

I`ll leave you with this...one of my older girls taught my two little ones the phrase "I love you so much" and they said it to me every night at dinner and in the mornings as they got ready for school.

A Happy Life, Chilean Orphanage style

To live with purpose, to say the courageous thing, to celebrate the simple gift, to follow your dreams, this is the happy life.

I hope that I have taught my girls something about life, to do what is in front of you, to help others, to love everyone and to BE NICE (hard for them when they live with 14 other girls...!).  If not, at least I´ve taught them a few key English phrases. What they have taught me pales in comparison to my lessons I´ve tried to impose. My girls are little and so the lessons weren´t very complex but they are some of the most important ones I can learn.

To LOVE  who loves you. To be PATIENT. To PLAY....lots. That a SMILE melts any heart.

To LOVE.
One of the most memorable things one of my girl´s has ever said to me was "Tia just because we get mad at you sometimes doesn´t mean that we don´t love you. I will always love you and you will always be a part of my family".These girls have learned the lesson of hate very well. They have pasts that you could consider worthy of hating. More incredible than the amount of dislike such little girls have for so many things and people is the amount of LOVE they have for others. Like how they LOVE LOVE their Tias. Most girls in my house call the main tia, Gloria, mami and they´ve said it to me more than once. I won´t lie, I LOVE it. These girls reserve their love for only some, usually those who tend to stick around, and I am so happy that they chose to give a little to me.

To be PATIENT.
Anyone who is a real mom knows the importance of patience. But my girls take it to a new level. Not only do my girls really hate to obey me but they like to make me wait for them to do something....we´re talking hours. I would be lying if I said I didn´t spend a significant part of my day waiting for my girls to help with chores, eat their food, shower or go to bed. But with this I´ve learned that patience is an art form and really good practice for multi-tasking (while waiting for girls to come to the table I can clean the kitchen and get the little ones out of bed and completly ready for school...I wait a longggg time for things :) And I´ve learned that some things in life are worth waiting for, like the silence that comes when everyone is softly sleeping...!

To PLAY...LOTS.
There is nothing my girls love to do more than play. That´s a pretty obvious statement. But they are masters at playing.Maybe this is because they didn`t get much time to play in their past lives with their families. It`s hard to focus on PLAYING when you are worrying where your mom is, what you will eat and if your you`ll see your dad again. By far their favorite type of playtime is intricate hour long games of hiding from the Tias and stashing their toys in random parts of the house so they can secretly PLAY more. They love to play games when they are supposed to be showering, getting ready for school or doing their homework. At first I was really strict about playtime, there was a time to play and a time to DO things. But after about 3 weeks I realized that it wasn´t really working...and it wasn´t very fun. So now that I know where all the secret hiding places are, when I go looking for them, I usually end up staying and playing too, but only if they promise not to tell the other Tia!

That a SMILE melts hearts.
It doesn´t matter how mad I am, if one of my girl´s gives me their "I´m really not all that sorry but I LOVEEEE you" smile, it´s over. They win. And they have perfected that smile so well. When I am feeling exhausted and at my wits end with the Hogar life one of my girl´s just SMILES at me and I am instantly happier. I´ll explain their smiles, so you can understand. They are toothless (or rotten) smiles that are so genuine and usually occur with LOTS AND LOTS of laughter. They are the type of smiles that light up their entire face and make my girl´s eyes so small they look closed. They are the smiles of TRUE happiness. It is impossible for your heart not to melt when you see their smiles. Those smiles show you that life IS GOOD and God is shining through.

Those are my favorite lessons my girl`s taught me. Isn´t it funny how when you set out to teach something or help someone live a better life it´s your life that ends up being transformed. My girls might not have learned much from me (maybe a few key English phrases) but I have learned two of life´s most valuable lessons from them. That you love who loves you with all of your heart and that no matter what life hands you there´s always a reason to smile your way through it.

A wise man named Paul once said...."I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can to everything through Him who gives me strength."

SMILE

SMILE, because you are happy, because you feel like it, because life is good.

This blog is dedicated to my girl’s smiles. Most people when they think of orphanages have pity and sadness for the children on their minds. A lot of credit for this mentality can be given to the infomercials we see on TV (which in many cases sadly, are very correct when they portray very very sad little children). And this was what my first impression on my girls was too.

When I first got here I came on a mission to rid the Hogar of all unhappiness and to give them un-abounding love because I pitied their situation. Although there’s no way I’ve cleaned out the unhappiness of this home and sometimes I fail to give my girls as much love as I should, I don’t think I’ve completely failed. What I didn’t realize that I would also be shown how wrong my mentality of pity was.

It’s easy to pity my girls, I did at first and I see the look of pity on the countless faces of people who tour the Hogar. My girl’s lives may seem tragic and in reality they are. Take the 3 year old D who at first “shot dead” all of my girls at the dinner table with a fake finger gun. This relates very much to her story; her mom is a prostitute and her dad, a drug trafficker, is now in jail for the rest of his life. Or Alexia, both of her parents are dead and the only living relative is her grandmother, who can’t take care of her. Or Anna, a four year old found living on the street in a box. Yes, my girls’ lives have been full of unbelievable pain and loss but, as I have learned, dwelling on the tragedy stops you from seeing the happiness and hope they have.

So I’ll reintroduce their stories the way I get to see them. Like D, who loves to sing nursery rhymes at the top of her lungs (she sounds like a tiny grandma) and is constantly falling into my arms. Or Anna, the most energetic and independent four year old I have ever seen who is constantly getting into situations where she needs rescue (which I’ve learned to do with a smile). Or Alexia who is OBESSED with Hollywood, and loves to speak English to me (even if we can only get as far as “how are you, fine thank you”).

Each one of my girls has a dream they want to pursue and a life they want to fill with more happiness than sorrow. They have disappointments and victories, crushes and “frienemies” just like any other girl in the world. Realizing that these girls laugh, sing, learn, and cry just like any other person, allows you to really really love them. Not because you feel bad for them or feel guilty for being given a lighter load in life (which is sadly what I came here thinking), but because they are just great girls who will love you back. They can teach everyone they meet how to overcome sadness and become happy and hopeful. And that is exactly what shattered my mentality of pity.

My girls have been dealt heavy burdens and hard blows, but the fact that they have broken through them to enjoy the simple gifts is astonishing to me. I know a lot has to do with the love at the Hogar and the three on site psychologists that give my girls a ton of counseling. So because I wanted you to see my girls as normal girls, not, the children you see with sadness in their eyes on TV, below are pictures of as many smiles as I could get before the girls tried to steal my camera.

The Gringos Come to Town

One of my favorite friends, Elizabeth, came to town with her dance group and paid a visit to my girls at the Hogar.  Very random situation, I know, but our friendship has been a bit random. We can never quite coordinate meeting in the United States and by now it just won’t be as fun. Elizabeth and I first met junior year when we studied abroad together in Australia. After leaving behind the sunshine of the Gold Coast we met up in Paris and now have conquered Santiago, Chile together. Our international friendship works out so well because I love to not be in the United States and she is a professional Celtic dancer who gets paid to dance in other countries (I know, the best job in the world).

 Elizabeth and her brother visited my girls and at first it was very very awkward.  I had underestimated the difficulty of the language barrier but the girls just stared and stared. And when they finally warmed up to them (it took about 10 minutes), they couldn’t get enough of my beautiful gringo amigos. We played outside and I couldn’t get over the screams of “TIA TIA”,  “TIO TIO” and the girls fighting over who got to hold their hands. After, they danced for my girls and I loved watching their jaws drop as Robert and Elizabeth expertly moved their feet at lightening speed. Then the dance lesson came. I asked the girls to get into two lines, one in front of Robert and one for Elizabeth; it was hilarious to see only three Elizabeth fans and the rest of the 35 in line with Robert. Clearly males are preferred here…it’s a Hogar full of girls, not surprising. Although my girls didn’t master celtic dancing they had an amazing time being treated as the most special people in the room. Robert and Elizabeth were so hands on with them and so loving to them (even though Elizabeth was a little freaked out and put her hair up REALLY high when I told her that my girls have a lice problem).

Robert and Elizabeth were insistent on buying my girls SOMETHING and since pizza and ice cream are top rated here we voted on McDonald’s McFlurrys. It also had something to do with it being a “ferria day”, aka nothing else was open. We took a few girls from my house to the Temple and on the way grabbed the McFlurries. When Robert and Elizabeth finally had to leave (they stayed an extra two hours making them almost late to their show) the girls almost wouldn’t let them. And they are still talking about how nice and beautiful my gringo friends were and asking when they are coming back.

Elizabeth sent me a quick note telling me that the few hours that she was with my beautiful girls changed her life and that I was so lucky to be surrounded by amazing girls all day. And I think I might have lost sight of this feeling of being enamored with my little ones a little bit. It was seeing how beautiful my girls’ smiles are when they know people have come to love on them just because they LOVE THEM that reminded me. And working with them all the time through the good (smiles, laughing, love, “te quieros”) and the bad (bed wetting, screaming, fighting, disrespect) can make you forget that ultimately what has been given to you is beautiful. Seeing my girls open up and share their amazing qualities with people that they can only communicate with by hugging, holding hands, playing and smiling re-opened my eyes to how lucky I am.

So I’m just going to say it…I think I’m luckier than you. Yes, my job is very exhausting, but I get to learn life’s lessons in a very hard, but very fun way. And I’m lucky enough to be taught by the most beautiful girl’s God has ever created. 

Thank you so much Robert and Elizabeth, for your precious time and energy by spending all day with girls and giving them the attention that they are always dying for.