Haha, just kidding. I just wanted to use that blog title because it sounds like a tampon commercial so it makes me giggle. Also because I have no cohesive thought on which to write about, so brace yourselves...
So it is now 2008. Its still only January, but still, thats a pretty major milestone. I spent this past New Years Eve on the beach in Montañita...Thats the hippie beach where I stayed at the drug house in the past. This time I did not stay at a drug house, I stayed at some hostal where the owner was this nice old lady that looked and sounded scarily similar to Yoda from StarWars. Admittedly, I have only watched StarWars when I have been forced to do so, but still, I am pretty sure she and Yoda are related. She was a really nice lady though, and she was really decent with pricing (like if you shared a bed you only paid halfprice, which was super nice of her considering it was New Years and she coulda robbed us if she really wanted to). The place was called Hostal Amigo (I am pretty sure), so if you are ever in Montañita, you should check it out.
Basically my New Years Eve was the best one that I have had in recent memory. I mean that as no slam against my totally awesome, wildly loved friends back home and the many a New Years that we have spent together. I mean that more as a slam against myself. I think I always go into New Years with high hopes of some kind of New-Years-Goodness-Wonderful-Miracle. I think usually (shamefully) it includes meeting the man of my dreams, spending the whole night talking about politics, life, poverty and richness, and how good of a dresser Kanye West is (which would only come up because he would be dressed EXACTLY like Kanye...). And that is exactly what happened this New Years! Yeah, right, just kidding. That totally did not happen. In fact, nothing happened. I had a few drinks (literally a few, very few, not a good idea to get too drunk at the crazy hippie beach cuz there are lots of opportunists out there, you know), I danced my booty off, I watched some huge bonfires on the beach. I really have no idea when the clock struck 12. Everyone I was with set their own time on their cell phones, so we had a range of about 10 minutes going on; no one really knew EXACTLY when the New Year had come. And Lord knows that the locals didnt know. So 12 o'clock came and went, whenever that was, we drank some cheap champagne, and continued to dance on the beach. Nothing of note happened at all, and thats why it was great. Because I went in without expectations, so I couldnt come out disappointed.
Then I came back to site, and continued my gringo-fest-a-palooza at my home. When the last of my guests had left, I took a long sigh of relief and laid in my bed for several hours and started my finally-I'm-alone-to-read-and-nap-a-palooza. From then on I have no idea what happened, because thats basically what I do everyday...
Anyhow, when I finally did go back to work it was really hard. I went to a meeting at my office, and (strangely) was happy to be there! I had missed work! I had missed that office! I even made them rice crispy bars just so that I could see them smile! Then they started in with comments about my weight and questions on how I could have POSSIBLY gone to Montañita and still come out single, and I remembered why I dont like being there. Then there was some kind of an argument during the meeting, and I zoned out and further reminded myself why I hate the office. Later (or was it before?) I went out and saw the Mujeres. They said, "Tere! We are so glad you are here! We thought you went back to the States and didnt tell us! Oh, Tere, are you loosing more weight?" Rarr, no rest for the weary (or weightless. And, by the way, I have not lost more weight. They are just all going crazy and obsessed with weight in general).
I spoke with the President of the Mujeres about the art classes for the barrio kids. Her response was, "Sounds like a great idea. Of course you can use our space to do it, it is just as much your space as it is ours. Let me know what we can do to help." Have I mentioned that I love these ladies? I won the Peace Corps Lottery in finding this group. Then she said that several people in the area had been asking since Christmas about English classes. Rarr, love lost. I HATE teaching English. But I decided to set my personal feelings aside and do what my community was asking me to do. I supposed thats what I am here for...so I posted a sign about English class and said I would be back the next day.
Then I didnt go back for a week, because I was locked away in the office like Princess Rampuzel doing my stupid Peace Corps Work Report, and preparing a PowerPoint for Peace Corps training that I have coming up. I hate stupid Peace Corps mandatory work to proove that I am working (when really, doing that work only keeps me from actually WORKING!). When I returned, the lady at the lunch program scolded me, said that I cant just go saying that I will back the next day if I dont come back for a week because then everyone worries about me, and why doesnt she have my phone number to that she can call and check up on me? Aw, theres the love. Its back. I learned that many people had responded to my sign about the English classes. Schools are in vacations right now here, so kids have a lot of free time. Lots of families had come by with their teenagers to inquire about my classes. I was pumped! Maybe these classes wouldnt be so bad afterall? But then when we started classes, there were only TWO people in class that I know. The rest were teenagers and some adults that I have never seen before, dressed in some pretty nice looking clothes. I hate to make this a race thing or a money thing, but the two I knew were the only Afroecuadorians in the group, and nice clothes mean you have the money to buy them. Which means that you have the money to pay for school (lack of money for "public" school is a major reason that most kids here only stay in till they are about 12 years old), which means that you already know a bunch of English because you learn it in school. Which means that I reap just a little less joy from teaching you. I want to help people who really need my help. I want the kids from the barrio to come out, but I think they dont want to because they get intimidated by these other kids. I want, I want, I want. Problem is this is not about me, so I am going to go ahead and shut up about that one now.
Appearantly there was lots of demand for classes for little kids in the barrio, too. Yes! I said. Thats just what I was hoping, because I would love to start a little art class with them. Whats that? Oh, they want English class? (do you feel the love slipping again?). Compromise: Arte con Inglés. We will learn about the English words for the colors, shapes, and things we draw. Everyone seemed to agree that this was a good way to meet the demand the community was asking for and keep the kids occupied without getting bored from sitting through an English lesson (or is it me who gets bored...). Class starts on Thursday, I cant wait! Down side is that I dont have any specific person from the community to help me. I want to ask this one girl who I was expecting at my English class, but she wasnt there. Hopefully shes there this week. I asked one of the Prometores from my larger organization. I told her that I would like to do class out in her barrio (because we had talked about that before) as well as out with the Mujeres. Her response was that "you never know when its going to rain." Im sorry, what? Well, since its rainy season, it would be hard to do, beacause when it rains people dont leave the house. Well, that is true, because in the barrio its mud roads that get nasty in the rain. And in the city it seems that no one has thought to spend the non-rainy season repairing the roads so that they dont turn in to rivers when it rains. But I took it more like blah, blah, blah, excuses, excuses, excuses. And I am not gonna push her on it. I will let her know that I am starting out with the Mujeres, and that I am ready to go with her when she is. We will see.
Other good news for this new me in the new year? My organization has decided to sell the sewing machines! Clearly, that is not good news. In fact, when the discussion came up in a meeting, I felt like I had gotten hit in the tummy with a ton of bricks. Nooooo! Dont sell my machines! I have PLANS for those! I already told the barrio girls we would start a new project! Nooooo! But none of those words actually escaped my lips. Rather I sat there in silence and listened to them say that there was no need for the machines because no one here knows how to use them (what?!? This again? I thought we established that the problem is that we never asked!). But there is a facet of the organization that is based up in northern Ecuador, and there is a group of women there who have a project plan for the machines (for a small business) and who are prepared to pay $2000 for the machines. So again, this became less about me and what I want, and more about whats best in general. Whatsmore, although this was discussed in the meeting as a new item of discussion, I get the feeling that the decision was done. It seemed that everyone was on board, and I later found out that my direct counterpart had been working on a plan for the last week or so before the meeting to change the workshop into an office for the jovenes. Well, thanks for telling me, folks.
Speaking of jovenes, on to the bad news of the new year. Remember that post about that great group of kids that I work with? Who come to the charlas and dance class and enjoy themselves and are great, great, great? Well, they are not so great right now. I think not having meetings for two weeks and my not being there to get their asses into gear for a performance at a Christmas show did a number on the group morale. When we finally did have a meeting, not too many of the "regulars" showed up. I wanted to spend the time talking about goals for the new year. I really believe that with some training these kids could learn to give the charlas themselves, and give them to high schools and middle schools and their parents and stuff. I also really believe that with some more work we could be a really great dance group, and could be a regularly included act in programs that the bigger organization has. Well, once again, what I believe didnt really matter so much. Basically there were a lot of blank stares when asked about what they wanted to do, and not much response to learning the charlas to give them. And they decided that they no longer want to dance, but they do want (thats right, you guessed it) English classes! GAWD. How did I fall into this spiraling hole of an English class rut?? We did make plans for a Bingo fundraiser to save money to go on paseos (like field trips), so hopefully that will pan out. Hopefully they were just in a bad mood that day, I know I was after the meeting...
Lets end this on an up-note. Back to the sewing machines, because I never explained why it was good news. The day after (or was it two days?) the meeting where the sewing machines and all my good intentions were ripped from my hands and my silent mouth, I got a phone call. Did I ever mention that group of women who have a history with PC, but have never had a volunteer? Well, probably not much, because the story of Theresa and that group is one that puts a whole lot of sticky rice crispy guilt all over my spoon. I had gone out to see them once, and I cant say I had a good time. Problem is that, well...it was basically another case of what I want vs. what I am being asked to do. I thought they wanted to work with me to work on a sewing workshop, crafts, and charlas. When I went out to see them I was suddenly helping the President (who is the husband of the main-lady) with a soccer tournament for the barrio kids. And I did not like it one bit. He kind of yells a lot, I mean, its not like hes being mean...its sort of an Ecuadorian-Man kind of thing. Sometimes they just sorta bark orders, and I really dislike it. Generally, I just choose to remove myself from the situation, but when I was supposed to be out there to help with this soccer crap--there was nothing I could do but listen and respond. Then came the "but so-and-so always did it that way" part. Thats the thing about people who have worked with PCVs in the past. Basically they tend to think that we are all one person, reincarnated into different life forms, but still basically the same person. You didnt bring a camera? So-and-so always did. You dont like to play soccer? But so-and-so always did. You never ran a small business? But so-and-so did. You get the point. I AM NOT SO-AND-SO, and frankly, I dont really care what they did.
So yeah, I did the wrong thing and basically let contact just not happen. I got busy doing other things, and pushed back guilty thoughts about not following up with them. Then she called (she being the president's wife, the main-lady in the group). I saw the number on my phone and panicked. Do I pick up? Are they gonna yell at me? But doing my work report for Peace Corps was boring, and thats what I was doing at the time, so I answered the phone. She was totally nice about everything! Nothing accusatory, equally appologized for not having been in touch, and asked me to come out the next Monday and meet with the ladies regarding their sewing project! Yes! Sewing goodness raining down from the sky! I went out, talked with them, and was so relieved. I felt good being with the ladies, talking about how they want to learn about sewing with a pre-made pattern, about making patterns for things based on models they already have, about how they just want to learn about any crafty-goodness that they can do with their hands. I cannot even express how pumped I am to work with these ladies. Start tomorrow...the only problem is that I leaned that Ecuadorians tend to not know how to sew with a pattern because they are basically not sold here....yeahhh...not sure what I am gonna do tomorrow morning then, but I will figure something out. Always do, right?
So there you have it, theres the new year, new me, freedom from pads by using soft, comfortable tampons! Just kidding, but you know, theres the life update. More to come soon (and by soon I mean I hopefully wont take 3 weeks like I did last time...). Hope all is well with you all. Winter sounds like its sucking pretty bad this year in my homestate. If its any consolation, it rains every day here, so my clothes have to be hung to dry inside (which means they take more than 24 hours to dry! (Damn, guess that means I will just HAVE to stay home and read until they dry becuse there is NOTHING to wear...). Also, rain has resulted in what looks like grass in my front yard. Trouble is I dont have a yard...its cement. And the grassy looking stuff? Mold. Mmmm, I heart Ecuador.
Peace,
Theresa
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Christmas in Guayaquil: Niños Malcreados (?)
The plan is to have two parts to this post, Guayaquil and Sùa, however, I have to get back to Hostal Theresa as soon as I get a text that my next visitor is here, so I dont promise that I will be able to stick to that plan. The thing is that I live in Guayaquil, the BIG CITY with the airport and the major bus terminal. So I have had lots of visitors lately at my little home. Its fun, but it means that I am getting to my Omnibus New Years Beach Party late, and that I dont have lots of toilet paper. Ahhh, I do it to myself.
So Christmas in Ecuador. You would think that for a country that is so Christian that Christmas would be a crazy big deal. With the Mujeres, the phrase "Dios Bendiga" --God Bless You-- is used like "Aloha." In that its used for hello and goodbye...and how are you, and I am fine, and what time is it...thats an exaggeration, but Im saying, they use it a lot. I, who do not follow any specific religion (but when asked about religion, I reply that my mom goes to church every Sunday, its sort of the easy way out rather than explaining my multi-dios-religion idea), have almost caught myself saying it on more than one occasion. But no, Christmas could have easily passed without me even noticing, but for the planning of holiday parties in the barrio. I think what it boils down to is that folks here, at least folks that I know here, dont have a whole lot of dinero. For that reason, the focus on buying presents, giving presents, getting presents and all that goes away. And really, when you think about it, thats what all the hoopla in the States comes down to at this time of year. Except maybe in the churches. I am sure that in churches, both here and in the States, that Christmas is discussed not as a reason to buy the latest Barbie doll, pair of shoes, or Ambercrombie distressed jeans, but as you know, the birth of Christ. So I guess maybe I didnt notice Christmas so much because I dont go to church? Maybe its just ME who was so focused on the materialness of Christmas in the States...? Who knows, whatever, on with the story.
Like I said, I was, to some extent, involved in the planning of the Christmas party in the barrio with the Mujeres. Basically the way it goes is that every year, barrios across the city request toys and candy from people and organizations with money so that they can have a party for the barrio kids. The Mujeres, being the kick ass group that they are, are in charge of such activities every year in their barrio. In the weeks and days coming up to the party, which took place on the Sunday before Christmas, I was worried that it wasnt going to happen. There were no toys, no candy. At a meeting at my main organization's office, there was a long discussion amongst the promotores that their barrios were having the same problem. That they had "ni un caramelo" (not even one piece of candy) to give out to the kids. Side-note: this conversation was immediately followed by the planning of the office Christmas party, to which they planned to buy several turkeys, beer, champagne, salads, etc. that they would all chip in to pay for. I held my tongue that perhaps the better way to spend that money--turkey is a VERY expensive meat in this country, for whatever reason--would be to, oh, I dont know, buy some candies and toys for the barrio kids? I figured this happens every year, and that maybe there was something that I was missing...
Well, there was something that I was missing. I guess I failed to take into account that, generally speaking, in this country things happen at the last minute. When I left the barrio on Friday, there were no candies, no toys, no nothing for the party. When I came back on Sunday to help set up for the party, there was a room full of stuff to give out to the kids. I have no idea where it came from. I know that the candy came from the national children's rights organization here, the toys came from...? Dont know. Someone with a good heart. When I arrived, the Mujeres' president said "¡Aqui está una mujer de la lucha!" ("Here is a woman of the struggle!" but also Mujeres de Lucha is their group name), it might have been one of the greatest moments of my life, just sayin.
We started setting up the tables, chairs and streamers outside (weird! Christmas party outside! Its hot out, no snow!). Then the president and the member in charge of organizing the gifts called me into the gift room. They explained that they had various presents for boys and girls of different ages, and a bag of candies for each child. The president was arguing that we should wrap the gifts, the other member was saying that if we wrapped them, we wouldnt be able to tell them apart and plus we didnt have any wrapping paper. I thought to myself, "I'm confused. Dont we have this party every year?? How's about we do what we did last year...and why didnt we get some wrapping paper if we knew we were giving gifts?" Out-loud, I responded that much of the fun of a child getting a gift comes from opening it, so we should wrap them. And although we dont have paper, we do have a mass amount of holiday printed plastic bags, which we could cut and use to wrap the gifts. And to tell the gifts apart? Well, we could separate them into larger plastic bags once they were wrapped, and label said bags as gifts for young kids, girls under 10, boys under 10, girls 10 and over, boys 10 and over. Wow! Best idea ever! So we got to wrapping. As we were wrapping, there was constant discussion on if a gift should be for a boy or a girl. Dolls for the girls, guns for the boys. I held back my opinions that teaching this kind of gender roles is harmful to children and society, and that giving children guns desensitizes them to violence. Rather, I gently answered that the SpongeBob cell phone could easily be played with by both boys and girls, and dutifully put the Walkie-Talkie Spy set in the "boys 10 and over" bag.
So the party gets under way complete with the Christian-Latino-Band and a prayer led by the president of the Mujeres. The kids seemed to be having a good time, and I love watching happy kids, so I was having a good time as well. That goodness was temporarily halted by one little girl. Now, I hate to say bad stuff about kids. I have never been a real "loves to work with children" kind of person, but I like kids, they are cool with me as long as they are nice. This little girl was not so nice. I had noticed her at the beginning of the party cuz she was just sitting there staring at me. I am sort of used to that because there are not a lot of new faces in the barrio, so when there is one, you get stared at. I stared back and winked at her and stuck out my tongue. Thats my usual response to kids. Usually they know I am kidding and giggle and stick their tongue back out. She didnt. She just kept staring at me.
So later during the party, I was sitting with a barrio kid that I know on my lap (after he excitedly modeled his new shoes, jeans and tshirt to me, he's so cute!) watching a Simon Says type of game. The girl, I would guess age 7or 8 is sitting next to me. She sort of hits me on the thigh. I figure shes just playing around, so I tap her back on her thigh. She hits back, closed fist this time, a little harder. This continues for some time. She gets harder with each hit, but still, I figure shes a kid, she just doesnt realize it. I was wrong. After a while, she raises her hand in the air makes a fist and looks me straight in the eye. I say, "No. No me pegas." (Don't hit me). I'm not yelling, but I am speaking sternly, so that she knows that the game is over. She responds by pinching me! What! There is NO SUCH THING as a playful pinch. I tell her no again, she pinches me again. I grab her wrist as she goes for a third, and tell her "No seas malcreada." (literally means "Dont be poorly raised," but is used as "Dont be sassy"). "No seas malcreado/a" (depending on if you are saying it to a male of female child) is a phrase used often here in Ecuador. I really disliked the phrase until right then at that moment. Mostly because its usually a parent saying it to their own child, and I'm like, what? YOU raised her! If shes poorly raised, its your own damn fault. But, c'mon, pinching? Thats malcreada if you ask me. Her response? Not shame, not saying shes sorry, nope. She gets up, and spits on me! I am NOT kidding! This little rugrat kid spit on my jeans. MALCREADA! I get up, put the kid who is still sitting on my lap on the chair, and calmly walk away. I know how to discipline and lecture kids with patience in English, but I dont know those words in Spanish, especially not when I am pissed that some freaking kid just spit on my pants.
I watched the kid for the rest of the party. She got picked on a lot by the other kids. Her hair got pulled a lot, other kids hit her, kicked her, yelled at her. She always did it back, often she was even the one that started it. But it always ended with her rolling around on the ground, screaming her lungs out that someone had hit her. The most interesting thing was that no one seemed to care. Here is this little girl in the middle of a Christmas party, screaming bloody murder while the Christian Band plays a holiday hit, and no one does a thing. I felt horrible, because usually when kids are crying in the barrio (which is a common occurrence because kids fight A LOT here, might have to do with giving guns as presents, or the fact that violence against kids here is BEYOND common place) I will go over to them, and ask what happened. They usually respond by crying harder (you know how kids are, it always hurt more when someone's paying attention) and tell me tearily that someone hit them. I ask where it hurts, look at that spot, ignore what looks like a cigarette burn on their back, and tell them I dont see anything. I rub their back and tell them its okay, and wipe off their tears with my shirt. By then the kid that hit them, usually their sibling or neighbor, comes back and gets them and they run off playing again. But with this kid, I gotta say I was a little scared. She pinched me! AND she spit on me! What if she did it again?? I wanted to help her, but I didnt know what to do that wouldnt end up in making the situation worse. I saw someone trying to console her, and she just started pounding her fists at them. The only person who could console her was the president of the Mujeres, who she seemed to know (which was weird, because I have NEVER seen this kid before, and I know her grandchildren). I get the feeling that there is some crazy bad shit going on in this kid's house. No children come out of their mother responding to life by hitting, kicking, pinching and/or spitting. Children who behave this way, in my opinion, do so because they are malcreados. They have learned this behavior from their parents and caregivers, probably from direct experience.
So what do I do? My job in the States was to take kids who were being abused and neglected by their parents away from their parents, put them into a (usually) safe home, and help their parents learn how not to treat their children in this manner. That job doesnt exist here. I am pretty sure its not illegal to abuse your children here. And if it is, its probably one of those laws that gets ignored like not driving on the wrong side of the road, and not having your 6 year old sell candies on the bus, and not drinking while driving a city bus. I know for sure that my old job doesnt exist here. In fact, I have been told that I probably shouldnt discuss my old job in too much detail to people here, because it might result in them not trusting me. With a judge and a law behind me, I know what to do about child abuse. Without that system, I have found myself at a loss. I have found that I have become the well-meaning neighbor who rubs your kid's back when the your other kid hits them, and ignores the cigarette burns she sees there. I have become the passerby who averts her eyes when she sees your chasing your kid into the house with while waving a large stick in the air (the same stick I just saw you grab from your child's hand after he hit the neighbor kid with it), the passerby who cringes at his screams, but does not call the cops to intervene (because what would they say??). I have become the person who sees a teenager kick a kitten and tells her not to, but doesnt actually DO anything to get her to stop. Who have I become?
I thought this experience was going to make me a better person, but sometimes I wonder what effects its really having on me. We were told a story at training of a house warming party that a volunteer had, and a woman who came to the party without her husbands permission. The husband came over, told her to come home, and she ignored him. He came back over and proceeded to beat the woman on the volunteer's porch. When the volunteer tried to intervene, the rest of the community told her it was best not to, for her won safety. A friend of mine told me about a woman who lifted her sunglasses to show a bruised eye in response to a question about domestic violence in her community. I told my friend to go back over and talk to the woman, even just to tell her that someone wants to hear her story. I think thats the right thing to do, to listen. And I WANT to listen to these kids. The problem is, I dont know HOW. I know better than to just bust into their homes and try to stop whats going on, I have been the social worker who hears from a 12 year old that she got whipped even harder after the teacher reported the abuse and her mom found out. So what do I do? How many times can I ask that in one post? What do I do?
I guess all I can do is to help the community in more round about ways. Maybe I can start some kind of afterschool program with some kids? Something to get their minds thinking, to get their self esteem rising, to get their hands moving in peaceful manners. I can keep helping the Mujeres, as they are helping the community. They might not be stopping the kids from getting hit, but putting food on a family's table is better than doing nothing at all. I have been helping the Mujeres in applying for some grants recently--one to get some much needed supplies for the bakery (they make the bread by hand--every step except the baking in the oven is done by the hands of one of two women. Very time consuming, but the machines to make bread are very expensive). The other is to get supplies for the lunch program, like larger pots, cooking spoons, plates, cups, silverware, that kind of stuff (which is also wildly expensive here, which is why I only own about 3 spoons and forks, not a very good thing for a psuedo-hostal owner, but I make sure my guests know that food is not included in their stay). That grant is also for money to cover kids who's families cant pay for their lunch. Also, the US Consulate's office organized a Christmas Food Drive for the Mujeres. They ended up donating over 1000 pounds of food to the lunch program, it was AMAZING. The food wont last for long, but it will allow the lunch program to pay off some debts to the store, and aid in this crazy game of catch-up that is going on. The Mujeres were so happy, the woman who makes all the food for the lunch program started crying. They are just not used to people caring or noticing the work that they do.
They try to teach the kids to be polite when they are getting their food, but saying a simple "Gracias" is something they often need to be reminded to do. Again, I blame it on the malcreado. I noticed the same problem at the Christmas party, some kids didnt say thank you for their gifts, the soda, or the food. And you know what? Neither did most of the parents. I swear I saw one lady come up with a kid to get a bag of candy, and then come back later with a different kid to ask for more. I recognized her, but not the kid, so I told her that I had already given her candy. She said she had two kids, I responded that we didnt have enough for everyone. What I really thought was that we are giving baggies of candy (chewy and hard candy) and even if they both really were her kids, they were both under the age of 3, and really didnt need a baggie of candy each. And that she was a bit malcreada herself for asking.
Ah, this life that I live. Sometimes I just get so frustrated. Sometimes it feels like looking at a huge snowy mountain waiting to be climbed, and all I am wearing is a swimming suit and flipflops. Sometimes I just dont know what to do.
Wow, sorry if that post brought you down a bit, I just read through it myself again. I promise that my Christmas wasnt bad. Thats part 2 to this post: Christmas in Súa with some volunteer friends. I just hope I get the time to get around to writing it...but not today. Hasta Luego, folks.
Theresa
So Christmas in Ecuador. You would think that for a country that is so Christian that Christmas would be a crazy big deal. With the Mujeres, the phrase "Dios Bendiga" --God Bless You-- is used like "Aloha." In that its used for hello and goodbye...and how are you, and I am fine, and what time is it...thats an exaggeration, but Im saying, they use it a lot. I, who do not follow any specific religion (but when asked about religion, I reply that my mom goes to church every Sunday, its sort of the easy way out rather than explaining my multi-dios-religion idea), have almost caught myself saying it on more than one occasion. But no, Christmas could have easily passed without me even noticing, but for the planning of holiday parties in the barrio. I think what it boils down to is that folks here, at least folks that I know here, dont have a whole lot of dinero. For that reason, the focus on buying presents, giving presents, getting presents and all that goes away. And really, when you think about it, thats what all the hoopla in the States comes down to at this time of year. Except maybe in the churches. I am sure that in churches, both here and in the States, that Christmas is discussed not as a reason to buy the latest Barbie doll, pair of shoes, or Ambercrombie distressed jeans, but as you know, the birth of Christ. So I guess maybe I didnt notice Christmas so much because I dont go to church? Maybe its just ME who was so focused on the materialness of Christmas in the States...? Who knows, whatever, on with the story.
Like I said, I was, to some extent, involved in the planning of the Christmas party in the barrio with the Mujeres. Basically the way it goes is that every year, barrios across the city request toys and candy from people and organizations with money so that they can have a party for the barrio kids. The Mujeres, being the kick ass group that they are, are in charge of such activities every year in their barrio. In the weeks and days coming up to the party, which took place on the Sunday before Christmas, I was worried that it wasnt going to happen. There were no toys, no candy. At a meeting at my main organization's office, there was a long discussion amongst the promotores that their barrios were having the same problem. That they had "ni un caramelo" (not even one piece of candy) to give out to the kids. Side-note: this conversation was immediately followed by the planning of the office Christmas party, to which they planned to buy several turkeys, beer, champagne, salads, etc. that they would all chip in to pay for. I held my tongue that perhaps the better way to spend that money--turkey is a VERY expensive meat in this country, for whatever reason--would be to, oh, I dont know, buy some candies and toys for the barrio kids? I figured this happens every year, and that maybe there was something that I was missing...
Well, there was something that I was missing. I guess I failed to take into account that, generally speaking, in this country things happen at the last minute. When I left the barrio on Friday, there were no candies, no toys, no nothing for the party. When I came back on Sunday to help set up for the party, there was a room full of stuff to give out to the kids. I have no idea where it came from. I know that the candy came from the national children's rights organization here, the toys came from...? Dont know. Someone with a good heart. When I arrived, the Mujeres' president said "¡Aqui está una mujer de la lucha!" ("Here is a woman of the struggle!" but also Mujeres de Lucha is their group name), it might have been one of the greatest moments of my life, just sayin.
We started setting up the tables, chairs and streamers outside (weird! Christmas party outside! Its hot out, no snow!). Then the president and the member in charge of organizing the gifts called me into the gift room. They explained that they had various presents for boys and girls of different ages, and a bag of candies for each child. The president was arguing that we should wrap the gifts, the other member was saying that if we wrapped them, we wouldnt be able to tell them apart and plus we didnt have any wrapping paper. I thought to myself, "I'm confused. Dont we have this party every year?? How's about we do what we did last year...and why didnt we get some wrapping paper if we knew we were giving gifts?" Out-loud, I responded that much of the fun of a child getting a gift comes from opening it, so we should wrap them. And although we dont have paper, we do have a mass amount of holiday printed plastic bags, which we could cut and use to wrap the gifts. And to tell the gifts apart? Well, we could separate them into larger plastic bags once they were wrapped, and label said bags as gifts for young kids, girls under 10, boys under 10, girls 10 and over, boys 10 and over. Wow! Best idea ever! So we got to wrapping. As we were wrapping, there was constant discussion on if a gift should be for a boy or a girl. Dolls for the girls, guns for the boys. I held back my opinions that teaching this kind of gender roles is harmful to children and society, and that giving children guns desensitizes them to violence. Rather, I gently answered that the SpongeBob cell phone could easily be played with by both boys and girls, and dutifully put the Walkie-Talkie Spy set in the "boys 10 and over" bag.
So the party gets under way complete with the Christian-Latino-Band and a prayer led by the president of the Mujeres. The kids seemed to be having a good time, and I love watching happy kids, so I was having a good time as well. That goodness was temporarily halted by one little girl. Now, I hate to say bad stuff about kids. I have never been a real "loves to work with children" kind of person, but I like kids, they are cool with me as long as they are nice. This little girl was not so nice. I had noticed her at the beginning of the party cuz she was just sitting there staring at me. I am sort of used to that because there are not a lot of new faces in the barrio, so when there is one, you get stared at. I stared back and winked at her and stuck out my tongue. Thats my usual response to kids. Usually they know I am kidding and giggle and stick their tongue back out. She didnt. She just kept staring at me.
So later during the party, I was sitting with a barrio kid that I know on my lap (after he excitedly modeled his new shoes, jeans and tshirt to me, he's so cute!) watching a Simon Says type of game. The girl, I would guess age 7or 8 is sitting next to me. She sort of hits me on the thigh. I figure shes just playing around, so I tap her back on her thigh. She hits back, closed fist this time, a little harder. This continues for some time. She gets harder with each hit, but still, I figure shes a kid, she just doesnt realize it. I was wrong. After a while, she raises her hand in the air makes a fist and looks me straight in the eye. I say, "No. No me pegas." (Don't hit me). I'm not yelling, but I am speaking sternly, so that she knows that the game is over. She responds by pinching me! What! There is NO SUCH THING as a playful pinch. I tell her no again, she pinches me again. I grab her wrist as she goes for a third, and tell her "No seas malcreada." (literally means "Dont be poorly raised," but is used as "Dont be sassy"). "No seas malcreado/a" (depending on if you are saying it to a male of female child) is a phrase used often here in Ecuador. I really disliked the phrase until right then at that moment. Mostly because its usually a parent saying it to their own child, and I'm like, what? YOU raised her! If shes poorly raised, its your own damn fault. But, c'mon, pinching? Thats malcreada if you ask me. Her response? Not shame, not saying shes sorry, nope. She gets up, and spits on me! I am NOT kidding! This little rugrat kid spit on my jeans. MALCREADA! I get up, put the kid who is still sitting on my lap on the chair, and calmly walk away. I know how to discipline and lecture kids with patience in English, but I dont know those words in Spanish, especially not when I am pissed that some freaking kid just spit on my pants.
I watched the kid for the rest of the party. She got picked on a lot by the other kids. Her hair got pulled a lot, other kids hit her, kicked her, yelled at her. She always did it back, often she was even the one that started it. But it always ended with her rolling around on the ground, screaming her lungs out that someone had hit her. The most interesting thing was that no one seemed to care. Here is this little girl in the middle of a Christmas party, screaming bloody murder while the Christian Band plays a holiday hit, and no one does a thing. I felt horrible, because usually when kids are crying in the barrio (which is a common occurrence because kids fight A LOT here, might have to do with giving guns as presents, or the fact that violence against kids here is BEYOND common place) I will go over to them, and ask what happened. They usually respond by crying harder (you know how kids are, it always hurt more when someone's paying attention) and tell me tearily that someone hit them. I ask where it hurts, look at that spot, ignore what looks like a cigarette burn on their back, and tell them I dont see anything. I rub their back and tell them its okay, and wipe off their tears with my shirt. By then the kid that hit them, usually their sibling or neighbor, comes back and gets them and they run off playing again. But with this kid, I gotta say I was a little scared. She pinched me! AND she spit on me! What if she did it again?? I wanted to help her, but I didnt know what to do that wouldnt end up in making the situation worse. I saw someone trying to console her, and she just started pounding her fists at them. The only person who could console her was the president of the Mujeres, who she seemed to know (which was weird, because I have NEVER seen this kid before, and I know her grandchildren). I get the feeling that there is some crazy bad shit going on in this kid's house. No children come out of their mother responding to life by hitting, kicking, pinching and/or spitting. Children who behave this way, in my opinion, do so because they are malcreados. They have learned this behavior from their parents and caregivers, probably from direct experience.
So what do I do? My job in the States was to take kids who were being abused and neglected by their parents away from their parents, put them into a (usually) safe home, and help their parents learn how not to treat their children in this manner. That job doesnt exist here. I am pretty sure its not illegal to abuse your children here. And if it is, its probably one of those laws that gets ignored like not driving on the wrong side of the road, and not having your 6 year old sell candies on the bus, and not drinking while driving a city bus. I know for sure that my old job doesnt exist here. In fact, I have been told that I probably shouldnt discuss my old job in too much detail to people here, because it might result in them not trusting me. With a judge and a law behind me, I know what to do about child abuse. Without that system, I have found myself at a loss. I have found that I have become the well-meaning neighbor who rubs your kid's back when the your other kid hits them, and ignores the cigarette burns she sees there. I have become the passerby who averts her eyes when she sees your chasing your kid into the house with while waving a large stick in the air (the same stick I just saw you grab from your child's hand after he hit the neighbor kid with it), the passerby who cringes at his screams, but does not call the cops to intervene (because what would they say??). I have become the person who sees a teenager kick a kitten and tells her not to, but doesnt actually DO anything to get her to stop. Who have I become?
I thought this experience was going to make me a better person, but sometimes I wonder what effects its really having on me. We were told a story at training of a house warming party that a volunteer had, and a woman who came to the party without her husbands permission. The husband came over, told her to come home, and she ignored him. He came back over and proceeded to beat the woman on the volunteer's porch. When the volunteer tried to intervene, the rest of the community told her it was best not to, for her won safety. A friend of mine told me about a woman who lifted her sunglasses to show a bruised eye in response to a question about domestic violence in her community. I told my friend to go back over and talk to the woman, even just to tell her that someone wants to hear her story. I think thats the right thing to do, to listen. And I WANT to listen to these kids. The problem is, I dont know HOW. I know better than to just bust into their homes and try to stop whats going on, I have been the social worker who hears from a 12 year old that she got whipped even harder after the teacher reported the abuse and her mom found out. So what do I do? How many times can I ask that in one post? What do I do?
I guess all I can do is to help the community in more round about ways. Maybe I can start some kind of afterschool program with some kids? Something to get their minds thinking, to get their self esteem rising, to get their hands moving in peaceful manners. I can keep helping the Mujeres, as they are helping the community. They might not be stopping the kids from getting hit, but putting food on a family's table is better than doing nothing at all. I have been helping the Mujeres in applying for some grants recently--one to get some much needed supplies for the bakery (they make the bread by hand--every step except the baking in the oven is done by the hands of one of two women. Very time consuming, but the machines to make bread are very expensive). The other is to get supplies for the lunch program, like larger pots, cooking spoons, plates, cups, silverware, that kind of stuff (which is also wildly expensive here, which is why I only own about 3 spoons and forks, not a very good thing for a psuedo-hostal owner, but I make sure my guests know that food is not included in their stay). That grant is also for money to cover kids who's families cant pay for their lunch. Also, the US Consulate's office organized a Christmas Food Drive for the Mujeres. They ended up donating over 1000 pounds of food to the lunch program, it was AMAZING. The food wont last for long, but it will allow the lunch program to pay off some debts to the store, and aid in this crazy game of catch-up that is going on. The Mujeres were so happy, the woman who makes all the food for the lunch program started crying. They are just not used to people caring or noticing the work that they do.
They try to teach the kids to be polite when they are getting their food, but saying a simple "Gracias" is something they often need to be reminded to do. Again, I blame it on the malcreado. I noticed the same problem at the Christmas party, some kids didnt say thank you for their gifts, the soda, or the food. And you know what? Neither did most of the parents. I swear I saw one lady come up with a kid to get a bag of candy, and then come back later with a different kid to ask for more. I recognized her, but not the kid, so I told her that I had already given her candy. She said she had two kids, I responded that we didnt have enough for everyone. What I really thought was that we are giving baggies of candy (chewy and hard candy) and even if they both really were her kids, they were both under the age of 3, and really didnt need a baggie of candy each. And that she was a bit malcreada herself for asking.
Ah, this life that I live. Sometimes I just get so frustrated. Sometimes it feels like looking at a huge snowy mountain waiting to be climbed, and all I am wearing is a swimming suit and flipflops. Sometimes I just dont know what to do.
Wow, sorry if that post brought you down a bit, I just read through it myself again. I promise that my Christmas wasnt bad. Thats part 2 to this post: Christmas in Súa with some volunteer friends. I just hope I get the time to get around to writing it...but not today. Hasta Luego, folks.
Theresa
Friday, December 21, 2007
I have No Idea what Keeps them Coming Back.
With a title like that, this post could easily be about my roommates. Roommates? But you thought I lived alone now? Oh, I do. Alone with a shit-ton of ants. I dont know what keeps them coming back, but a fellow volunteer believes that the ants in the bathroom are attracted to some kind of mold that forms on the bottom of sinks. Dont judge, I am sure you have it on your sink, too! My solution (in case you also have ants and are too cheap to buy ant-killer, too embarrased to tell your landlord that you are afraid of a bunch of ants, and sick of your home smelling like nail-polish remover from spraying ants dead all the time) is tape. Heavy duty Scotch tape. I used it to seal up the space between where my faucet connects to the wall, because (after much time spent studying their routes and behaviors) I determined that that is where the ants are coming from. This was only after I flooded a million of them out of the sink and then doused them with nail polish remover. But the solution worked. The ants always come in the morning, so the first morning I ran downstairs like there were presents waiting for me under a Chirstmas tree and went to see if there were any ants. And there were! There were tons of ants crawling all around the inside of my Scotch tape trap, wondering in their ant-like-way why they could not get out. Haha! I am bigger and stronger and will always win! They havent come back in three days now...
Anyhow, I could write a whole post about the ants that I kill on a daily basis (not ALL the ants come from that opening, so there are still many an ant in my home. Especially if I leave food in the sink over night...) but I wont. Mostly just for your own benefit, because I am sure that reading about ants in my home is not what you want to learn about my wild, exotic, Peace Corps adventures.
Instead, I write to you today about the Jovenes de Afromix. That is the group of kids that I work with out in Isla Trinitaria. Last week a volunteer friend of mine said she would like to come out and meet said jovenes, to try and figure out what it is that keeps them coming back every week. I told her I have know idea what it is, but I hope it keeps happening.
Now, I will not idealize the situation for you, its not all rainbows and butterflies and well formed groups. The Afromix kids are like most teenagers: inconsistant. There is a steady group of about 7 or 8 kids that are there every week, without fail. Then there is a trickle-in group of about 5 or 6 more that sometimes are there and sometimes are not. Then there is a large group of kids that I barely ever see. But either way, its more than I can ask for. I got lucky with my site placement, in that there were decently formed groups already here when I arrived, and Afromix was one such group. In the 3ish months that I have been here, we "formed" Afromix by joining two neighboring groups together. On Tuesdays we generally do charlas and on Thursdays we do hiphop dance class. Like I said, the number of kids varies a lot, and I have become pretty worried in the last few weeks because the majority of guys in the group have stopped coming. I think they get embarrased to be dancing and dont want to do that, and since they stopped coming for a few weeks maybe they just dont feel like coming back...? I am not really sure. But I have chosen not to blame myself for that one and just be happy with what I have got, which is a super great group of young ladies and a few young men when we are lucky.
Last week Thursday and this week Tuesday got cancelled due to lack of keys to enter the building where we meet. I was disappointed, but it was a good thing at the same time. The kids still came out both days (because no one knew we didnt have keys until we got there) and were super disappointed to not have a meeting. I know I shouldnt be happy about disappointed kids, but I gotta admit I was happy when one girl was like, "But I wanted to dance!" and when another said, "Thursday lets do a charla and not dance, because I like the charlas better!" And this week when we finally met, one said that we should go until 8:30 instead of 8, because "We didnt meet on Tuesday, and thats not fair!" We participated in a really great dance program at the end of last month, and all of my kids were super pumped about it. I dont think they get to get out of the barrio much except to go to school, so going downtown to dance in a show was pretty cool for them.
As much as I love dancing, teaching dance, learning dance (my girls started teaching the Reggaeton dance last night, complete with a "get low" section where you make an "ass smaking motion"), and seeing my kids dance around all happy, what I really love is the charlas. The point of a charla is to get the kids thinking, talking, and learning about new things. Most of what we have focused on thus far is sex and the human body. The thing is that no one really talks to kids here about those kinds of things, so many of them dont know what is going on inside of their own clothing. Enter Theresa, who is not at all embarrased to speak openly about orgasms, the G-spot, wet dreams and semen. Its pretty common here, as it is in the states, for kids to start experimenting with sex at a pretty early age. All of my jovenes are over the age of 16, and I am pretty sure that most of them have already lost their virginity. I find it really concerning when kids (or adults) are having sex without really taking the time to understand their own bodies. So for that reason, I like so speak openly with the jovenes about these kinds of things, and because I want to help them create a "safe space" where it is okay to speak openly.
The most fun charla that we have done so far was one that I call "Musical Chairs of Truth" where I prepare pieces of paper with words on them. Each paper is put on a chair, and I play music from my Gpod (thats a Generic Ipod, for those of you who are not hip to the lingo) as they go around the chairs. When the music stops, they have to write down the first thing that comes to their mind when they see the word on the paper. When everyone has gone to each chair, we all sit down and go around the circle reading all the comments and discuss. It was interesting to see what they thought of the different words, and the discussion that followed was always interesting as well. A few observations...
1. Menstration
"Dirty. Ugly. Why does it come every month?"
We talked about why it comes every month, and the prometora from the area (who I believe is in her 50s) told them that for her it is nothing but a memory, so we talked about how your period stops when you get older. Then I tried (relatively unsuccessfully) to tell them that your period is wonderful thing, and should serve as a reminder that the female body can make life. They were like, "Yaaaa, Tere. ¡Es feo!" (Whatever, Theresa. Its gross!).
2. Orgasm
There was a woman in the group who has two children (she's married and older than the rest of them). She did not know what an orgasm was. She thought that I had written it wrong and meant to write "organ" or something. Most of my jovenes were unsure about what it was, too. My counterpart and I did our best to explain. We said that it is a sensation that you feel inside of your own body when you are sexually pleased. The response was raised eyebrows, some girls said they think they have had one. We told them that if they are not sure, they probably were not having an orgasm.
3. Tampons
It is widely believed in Ecuador that tampons cause you to loose your virginity. Most of my girls already knew that I use tampons, because they have found them in my backpack. I have already talked to some of them about how to use a tampon--where you insert it, what happens when its inside of you, no-it wont get lost inside of you, no-it doesnt make you not a virgin (which reminds me that I should give a charla about "virginity" and if its a physical or a mental concept...), and let them take one home to put in water to see what it looks like when it expands. When we did the musical chairs, some of the girls that I have already talked to about tampons nodded their heads as I was explaining it to the group, but one girl was adamant that she would not use them because she is a virgin.
4. Oral Sex
"Es feo, okey."
I was totally shocked that they thought oral sex was gross. I remember being their age and being super curious about oral sex, it was openly discussed among my group of friends, and we would trade horror stories about our experiences. We might have thought it was weird, but I dont think we thought it was gross. And (at least it seemed) it was something that most people my age were doing. Here, that is not the case. All of my jovenes seemed to agree that it was gross and that they would never want to give or receive oral sex. Luckily, this one came after we had already talked about virginity and how they all thought it is a good thing to be a virgin when you get married (whether or not they are all still virgins we did not discuss). So I asked them if vaginal sex is out of the question so as to save your virginity, why was oral sex considered "gross" and not an alternative? The response was raised eyebrows (which is really all I am looking for sometimes, I guess).
5. Pregnancy
Gracias a Dios, most of the girls said that its something they are not ready for. Lets hope that translates into using condoms...(wishful thinking, I know. But at least we talked about it).
So what keeps them coming back? I hope they come back because they have this space and this time to talk about these things that they think about but are not supposed to talk about. I hope they come back because they know that I will be there, and that I will not ditch out on them. I hope they come back because they feel like they are actually learning something. I just hope they keep coming back.
So there you have it, thats what I do on Tuesday and Thursday nights. I hang out with a rad group of teenagers, dance around to reggaeton and hiphop music, and talk about sex.
Until next time...
Sweet (wet) dreams,
Theresa
Anyhow, I could write a whole post about the ants that I kill on a daily basis (not ALL the ants come from that opening, so there are still many an ant in my home. Especially if I leave food in the sink over night...) but I wont. Mostly just for your own benefit, because I am sure that reading about ants in my home is not what you want to learn about my wild, exotic, Peace Corps adventures.
Instead, I write to you today about the Jovenes de Afromix. That is the group of kids that I work with out in Isla Trinitaria. Last week a volunteer friend of mine said she would like to come out and meet said jovenes, to try and figure out what it is that keeps them coming back every week. I told her I have know idea what it is, but I hope it keeps happening.
Now, I will not idealize the situation for you, its not all rainbows and butterflies and well formed groups. The Afromix kids are like most teenagers: inconsistant. There is a steady group of about 7 or 8 kids that are there every week, without fail. Then there is a trickle-in group of about 5 or 6 more that sometimes are there and sometimes are not. Then there is a large group of kids that I barely ever see. But either way, its more than I can ask for. I got lucky with my site placement, in that there were decently formed groups already here when I arrived, and Afromix was one such group. In the 3ish months that I have been here, we "formed" Afromix by joining two neighboring groups together. On Tuesdays we generally do charlas and on Thursdays we do hiphop dance class. Like I said, the number of kids varies a lot, and I have become pretty worried in the last few weeks because the majority of guys in the group have stopped coming. I think they get embarrased to be dancing and dont want to do that, and since they stopped coming for a few weeks maybe they just dont feel like coming back...? I am not really sure. But I have chosen not to blame myself for that one and just be happy with what I have got, which is a super great group of young ladies and a few young men when we are lucky.
Last week Thursday and this week Tuesday got cancelled due to lack of keys to enter the building where we meet. I was disappointed, but it was a good thing at the same time. The kids still came out both days (because no one knew we didnt have keys until we got there) and were super disappointed to not have a meeting. I know I shouldnt be happy about disappointed kids, but I gotta admit I was happy when one girl was like, "But I wanted to dance!" and when another said, "Thursday lets do a charla and not dance, because I like the charlas better!" And this week when we finally met, one said that we should go until 8:30 instead of 8, because "We didnt meet on Tuesday, and thats not fair!" We participated in a really great dance program at the end of last month, and all of my kids were super pumped about it. I dont think they get to get out of the barrio much except to go to school, so going downtown to dance in a show was pretty cool for them.
As much as I love dancing, teaching dance, learning dance (my girls started teaching the Reggaeton dance last night, complete with a "get low" section where you make an "ass smaking motion"), and seeing my kids dance around all happy, what I really love is the charlas. The point of a charla is to get the kids thinking, talking, and learning about new things. Most of what we have focused on thus far is sex and the human body. The thing is that no one really talks to kids here about those kinds of things, so many of them dont know what is going on inside of their own clothing. Enter Theresa, who is not at all embarrased to speak openly about orgasms, the G-spot, wet dreams and semen. Its pretty common here, as it is in the states, for kids to start experimenting with sex at a pretty early age. All of my jovenes are over the age of 16, and I am pretty sure that most of them have already lost their virginity. I find it really concerning when kids (or adults) are having sex without really taking the time to understand their own bodies. So for that reason, I like so speak openly with the jovenes about these kinds of things, and because I want to help them create a "safe space" where it is okay to speak openly.
The most fun charla that we have done so far was one that I call "Musical Chairs of Truth" where I prepare pieces of paper with words on them. Each paper is put on a chair, and I play music from my Gpod (thats a Generic Ipod, for those of you who are not hip to the lingo) as they go around the chairs. When the music stops, they have to write down the first thing that comes to their mind when they see the word on the paper. When everyone has gone to each chair, we all sit down and go around the circle reading all the comments and discuss. It was interesting to see what they thought of the different words, and the discussion that followed was always interesting as well. A few observations...
1. Menstration
"Dirty. Ugly. Why does it come every month?"
We talked about why it comes every month, and the prometora from the area (who I believe is in her 50s) told them that for her it is nothing but a memory, so we talked about how your period stops when you get older. Then I tried (relatively unsuccessfully) to tell them that your period is wonderful thing, and should serve as a reminder that the female body can make life. They were like, "Yaaaa, Tere. ¡Es feo!" (Whatever, Theresa. Its gross!).
2. Orgasm
There was a woman in the group who has two children (she's married and older than the rest of them). She did not know what an orgasm was. She thought that I had written it wrong and meant to write "organ" or something. Most of my jovenes were unsure about what it was, too. My counterpart and I did our best to explain. We said that it is a sensation that you feel inside of your own body when you are sexually pleased. The response was raised eyebrows, some girls said they think they have had one. We told them that if they are not sure, they probably were not having an orgasm.
3. Tampons
It is widely believed in Ecuador that tampons cause you to loose your virginity. Most of my girls already knew that I use tampons, because they have found them in my backpack. I have already talked to some of them about how to use a tampon--where you insert it, what happens when its inside of you, no-it wont get lost inside of you, no-it doesnt make you not a virgin (which reminds me that I should give a charla about "virginity" and if its a physical or a mental concept...), and let them take one home to put in water to see what it looks like when it expands. When we did the musical chairs, some of the girls that I have already talked to about tampons nodded their heads as I was explaining it to the group, but one girl was adamant that she would not use them because she is a virgin.
4. Oral Sex
"Es feo, okey."
I was totally shocked that they thought oral sex was gross. I remember being their age and being super curious about oral sex, it was openly discussed among my group of friends, and we would trade horror stories about our experiences. We might have thought it was weird, but I dont think we thought it was gross. And (at least it seemed) it was something that most people my age were doing. Here, that is not the case. All of my jovenes seemed to agree that it was gross and that they would never want to give or receive oral sex. Luckily, this one came after we had already talked about virginity and how they all thought it is a good thing to be a virgin when you get married (whether or not they are all still virgins we did not discuss). So I asked them if vaginal sex is out of the question so as to save your virginity, why was oral sex considered "gross" and not an alternative? The response was raised eyebrows (which is really all I am looking for sometimes, I guess).
5. Pregnancy
Gracias a Dios, most of the girls said that its something they are not ready for. Lets hope that translates into using condoms...(wishful thinking, I know. But at least we talked about it).
So what keeps them coming back? I hope they come back because they have this space and this time to talk about these things that they think about but are not supposed to talk about. I hope they come back because they know that I will be there, and that I will not ditch out on them. I hope they come back because they feel like they are actually learning something. I just hope they keep coming back.
So there you have it, thats what I do on Tuesday and Thursday nights. I hang out with a rad group of teenagers, dance around to reggaeton and hiphop music, and talk about sex.
Until next time...
Sweet (wet) dreams,
Theresa
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