Tuesday was torrential rain: I allowed myself the luxury of a cab into work, which cost me just over a quid. We were shocked to find out the rain meant that 5a had all of 4 students (out of 25!), 6b fairing only slightly better with 10/22 kids. There seemed little point starting the new subjects I´d prepared, so we 3 teachers revised all the vocab learnt with team games of hangman and my now-famous Rolf-Harris-style game. The teachers here were quite unphased, the kids don´t come to school if the weather is bad.
C said it´s a policy he´d love to introduce to the workplace in England, but I pointed out we´d never get into work.
On Wednesday, 5b wrote a HUGE sign on the board:
The incorrect spelling made it all the more adorable. It could´ve been for any of us, but as the chicas dragged *me* over to it and hadn´t put an "S" on the end, I think it was for *me*, and me alone, of course.
Thursday, the (grown up) boys were all broken, after our Wednesday night at Sampaka (a jovial evening, with me & C, Ali, John, Tom, V and Marcello), the guys headed out for more at 12.30 (The chicas opted to go to bed earlier, much to John´s undisguised delight at the chance of a boy´s evening out).
I laughed at C for thinking he could keep up with the young uns, as the alarm bleeped pain and regret into his head with every push of the ´snooze´ button.
Running late myself, I power-walked in to find (at 8.55) no Ali or John. Fabiana informed me "no classe hoy". Eh?! So Ali & John were having a big old lie in?!??! I sighed heavily, and grumbled/mumbled in English under my breath, although my body language told her, "Someone could have effin´ told me".
Just then, they arrived. Ah. No one had told them either.
A hungover John struggled to comprehend that we really did have no classes today (we´re still not sure why, quite often they´ll just chop and change our schedule for no reason), Fabiana laughed she could smell whiskey on his breath (he was mortified) and we all repeatedly told him that we were free to go (I was virtually pushing him out the door lest F change her mind).
Ali & I laughed as a group of about 20 pubescent schoolgirls had watched us say goodbye to John at the gates as then they proceeded to follow him and run back nervously giggling and daring their mates to get closer. John, heading off home to get some kip, was oblivious to his growing, hormonal, fanbase.
We girls headed into town, glad of the chance to hit the one coffee bar and shops before siesta (everything shuts as we finish work at 12...even, inexplicably, the cafés and sandwich shops...still not worked out what people do for lunch!).
And on the hottest day this week, I managed to get a coat, 23 quid, with a comedically big furry hood.
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Friday: Raining again. Another day off work as they were fumigating the place to get rid of the mice in preparation for Monday´s 75th birthday party celebrations at the school (weirdly from 8 - 10.30 am, and no lessons again!)
We (John, Ali, Tom & I) had agreed to all go to help C on his last day at the Refugio. I was feeling a bit nervous, after all I´d heard from C. And he was bringing cake and pop for a girl´s birthday and presents for them all.
Feral kids, sugar and E-numbers!??!?! Help.
In the end, I thought the Refugio was nowhere *near* as bad as he´d painted it, although it was nowhere any kid should have to live.
I´m wondering if C´s a bit of a drama queen, or as he said, the kids (and the acrid smell of urine) were a lot more subdued today because of the rain.
Anyway, they were incredibly excited that C had brought his "nobia" (me) to the refugio. I was greeted shyly by some of the girls, hugged by a few and asked questions. Touchingly, they called me "Tia" immediately (C is "Tio" - uncle) and kept coming up for hugs and kisses.
One of the special-needs kids, Danny ran towards me, eyes shut (C thinks he´s partially blind), mouth open and silent, and enveloped me in a huge hug. He can´t speak, he´s 9, still in nappies, and malnutritioned, is the height of a 6 year old. I hugged him back, warmly and said "Hola Danny!". I felt I knew them and their names better than my own school kids from C´s numerous photos.
Walter, his younger brother, (also special needs, C says they really shouldn´t be there) with a face full of red scabs and sores (he scratches himself in his sleep) then came to hug me and grabbed me by the hands, with wet slobbery fingers to excitedly show me round his 4 room home (for 30-40 kids, 2 bedrooms, some sleep in the area they also eat in).
He excitedly pointed at the telly in the main indoor room (he can´t speak. He´s 7, looks 4), pulled me to the kitchen, asked the older girls for water by pointing, sweetly offered me his cup (I pretended to take a sip and said a big "Mmmmm! Gracias, Walter!"), and then dragged me to show off their tiny shared bedroom quarters.
I did not take photos of their rooms, sorry. I somehow think that sort of thing is disrespectful and a bit touristy to be honest. The other day, I´d had a go at C, after he informed me of yet more pictures of Walter´s face, supposedly to ´prepare´ me for my visit. I said that I didn´t need to be made any more apprehensive about my visit, thank you, and that Walter was a child, not a freakshow.
But believe me that the place was just above squalid. Filthy bedding, graffitied walls, not enough chairs (some were forced to eat standing up), no toys to speak of. I didn´t spot any staff, nor any security: it appeared the older girls looked after the other kids, and the front door was open, so the kids appear to come and go as they please.
C´s favourite boy, Augustin, with C´s cap on. Looks like a tiny Tiger Woods. Smiles all the time although he has nothing and no-one. A humbling lesson for us all there.
My favourite girl, Chou Chou. Kept hugging me and calling me Tia. Said she loved me after a few mins. It´s all they want, to be loved back.
Shortly after they´ve had the presents, a bit of a group shot with C in the middle and Ali (at the back, peeking over the top of the kids!).
John watching the kids drawing with the paper and felt tips we brought that day. They have no toys at all unless volunteers bring them in and they never last long.
We managed to give them a lovely morning, anyway. C had brought cakes, muffins, fizzy pop and presents (friendship bracelets for the older kids, stickers for the younger ones whose wrists would have been too small) and we created something of an atmosphere, party-cum-riot with these small pleasures.
C had the great idea to get me drawing animals, so like a kid´s entertainer, I soon had a crowd of children from 3-15 queuing up to have their favourite animals drawn, to which I added "Para (and their name), Besos! Sapna x".
My heart broke a little bit as I said goodbye (but I promised to come back Monday). They are such lovely, sweet kids, and I left feeling a bit guilty that I´d changed my project, but there are two good reasons, I justified: 1) I´m making good progress at my school 2) I would end up falling in love with Augustin (Cs´ favourite, a gorgeous 3 year old Tiger Woods lookalike) or, my favourite cutie, nicknamed "Chou Chou", a little girl about 3, who kept wanting to be picked up and said "Te ama" more than once.
I knew I´d have ended up, after a month, wanting to adopt one of them.
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This evening we visited Ali in her new pad. She´s moved in with Kirsten cos her other flatshare wasn´t working out and is much happier already. There was a sadness though, as K was red-nosed from crying: we think Winnie the honey bear is dying.
She´d not been eating and in the space of 3 hours, whilst K had been out, lapsed into a deep, floppy sleep, from which she couldn´t be woken.
I turned up armed with wine, which we demolished whilst we tried to take K´s mind off it, between calls to and from the vet with updates.
The prognosis doesn´t look good, I´m afraid. :(
Everyone has gone out to meet the new voluntarios tonight (not Tom & John though, they´ve gone away to Iguazu Falls, it´s Tom´s last weekend, and Iguazu is the local "must see").
I´m staying in. I´m feeling strangely down, what with the bear news and the realisation this morning that my two workmates, now friends, are going to be gone in 2 weeks (work has whizzed with them to share it with) and I will be back at work struggling on my own again before I know it.
Anyway, Polo tomorrow. Laters amigos.
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