Marci Soifer

It is Friday, and I just exhaled. Shabbat shalom, to those of you who celebrate. I want you to know that once I got off the bus this afternoon from work, walked to a nearby park I have grown to enjoy, purchased a little ice cream treat, and sat, enjoying the sweet, coldness, and thinking about how it is Shabbat, and that means two things...1-that I have got to more proactive about this whole seeking out the Jewish community of La Paz thing (although...it helps that my mother is now sending me e-mails full of links with information about the Jews in La Paz), and 2-that I have officially been here for a week.

I bet you weren´t keeping track...but, it has been a week since my arrival. And, today also marks the first day that I spent volunteering full-time, in both of my placements. It was a long day, and sort of felt harrowing. But, I am glad to finally be settled in (in some ways), and to know what volunteering in La Paz is going to look like.

Let´s start backwards---the afternoons.

I continue to work with the orphans in casita crema. I now know that two of the little boys who cry a lot are twins, Juan really likes to dance with me, all the kids LOVE watching TV and being read to (and will occassionally help with poor pronounciation of Spanish words...lovely), the kids will (mostly) all put markers in their mouths and not on paper (and the mamita has asked me to not ever bring markers again...rather, crayons and colored pencils...score for the kids in my house, considering I brought a lot of markers from the States), and when we get to play outside, the kids still really like to use me as the jungle gym. The older ones have become more and more helpful, when they are not in their school house. The younger ones are still really, really little. And, they were all entertained for an entire hour today by watching a man outside their window chop down a large tree with a saw. Trees are the only thing that is more exciting than me. I guess that I can live with that.

I know that I am learning about what will work with them, and what is not effective at all. So, although the kids may not have gotten much from my time with them this week, I feel like we are going places. I am going into next week knowing who my audience is, and what the kids need to learn...or to have fun. One thing is for sure---as I left today, I had all of them sitting around me as I read them a story. I finished the final page, and closed the front cover, ignoring the yelpping requests for me to read the story again. I told them that it was time for me to go, but that I would return on Monday. They asked me to repeat when I would be back approximately 15 times. Erika, one of the little girls with pig-tails, a nose permanently crusted over, and hands that seem most comfortable fastened around my neck, said, ¨Ciao, Marci¨. That was the first time any of them called me by my first name, instead of just ¨voluntaria¨. Then, out of no where, all of them got up, gathered in a clump, and puckered up. One by one, each of my kids gave me a little kiss on my cheek, repeating, ¨ciao, Marci¨.

And now, the morning:

Today, I began my work with the special needs orphans who are under age 10. By under age 10, I mean...some of them are babies. I walked in, and it was the exact same setting as earlier in the week. The group was huddled in their wheelchairs in a circle (but this was not a meal or snack time, so they were not in the dining area) in a large room with mats, low windows along an entire side, a hanging television, brighty colored paint on all of the walls,and wooden floors. There are a few women bustling about, helping, preparing meals, and there is one woman who is the main momita. Her name is Susana, and immediately after I am introduced to her and we exchange greetings kisses, I can tell that she is going to be a warm source of information for me. Her smile remained consistant, and I enjoyed watching how her soft voice brought smiles to the faces of those kids who can move their facial muscles. She sat in the middle of the circle of wheelchairs, as the other women moved about, and I stood for a moment, watching her sing to the kids and slowly grasp onto arms, legs, and nearby toys (the ten that may be there), to move things around and stimulate the kids.

She got up after a moment, and asked me if I like babies. I nodded...why not?

After she vanished into a connected the room, labeled, ¨Dormitorio¨(where the kids sleep), she returned with a small baby named Luis. He could not be older than 1, and was wearing little overalls and a tiny sweatshit, under his curly head of hair. His face is slightly mis-shappen, and his little nose was cluttered with dried nose extract (snot). Susana put him in arms, and told me to play with him on the mat, and move his muscles around. She asked me to try to get him to crawl.

Watching the other kids, including the two or three who can wal about the room on their own (and do) (a lot), I sat with little Luisito and played on a mat for an hour. He is adorable, and while crawling did not happen, I did get him topush himself up on his hands a few times. He smiled, as I immadiately went for the under-arm tickle when he would show signs of the exercise as too strenuous. I laughed with him, and eventually started rolling around myself.

10:30. Time for the snack.

We pushed everyone into the kitchen, where the wheelchairs again lined the walls in a way that makes it hard for those of us who are able bodied to get in and out of the room. Even Luis went into a little wheelchair, sporting an elongated Elmo pillow as the back cushion. All of the women emerged, and I waited for Susana to instruct me. She pointed to a collection of cups of warm milk with pieces of break floating in them, and told me to feed any child. And, told me not to forget the bib.

With a bib in one hand, and a cup in the other, I sat down before Victor. Victor is an extremely happy, smiling, parapalegic child who cannot be more than 4 years old. He is strapped into his chair, and he loves to watch television, as he understands everything going on around him (can understand, but can only respond with syllables, an the single word, ¨YEAH!¨).

I few him the whole thing, per my instructions from the ladies (who also asked me if I was a millionaire, because I am from the States). He giggled a little when I did, and looked irritated when I did, in response to my missing his mouth with the milky spoonful and dribbling down his chin. I told him that I would try to get better for next time. He didn´t seem to care.

The rest of the morning consisted of my playing with the other kids, stimulating their movement from the depths of the chairs that I am sure they don´t realize are unnatural parts of their bodies, and dodging some of the mobile kids, as a few of them have the tendency to be a little bit aggressive. My nametag (which the goverment of Bolivia says that I have to always wear) was ripped off of my shirt a few times. With some of the kids, I can catch a few glances outside the windows, and I wonder what they think about the outside. With other kids, I watch them frustratedly hurt themselves in different ways (to the point that blood may emerge even)...not because they want to, but because they cannot voice frustration or a desire for attention in any other way.

I got to feed Luis his lunch, which was a blended mixture of things (I recognized small bits of chicken and carrots) in a huge bowl. Slowly, slowly, I few him the whole thing. And, he seemed pleased.

After the eating, the kids transitioned (as fast as I could wheel them) to the bathroom, which is a large room, filled with toilets with seat belts. For this part, I glanced at my watch, and realized that it was time for me to go. 1:30.

I learned a lot today, working with these kids. But, most of all, I learned that I have a lot to learn. And, it is difficult to soak it all in because the kids are different than any others I have worked with, the system seems to be dramatically different than any other I have worked within, and the women speak Spanis so quickly that my overwhelmed feelings and confusion in a moment may not even be able to vocalized. This is a hard placement, but I am looking forward to getting over my intial confusion, and finding that I can contribute to this place and the lives of these kids.