In the last week I said goodbye to one of my last original friends who has been here since the beginning of my time and while saying goodbye to so many people has been uniquely hard for me on this program, I also realized that it may be a blessing in disguise. It has really given me the chance to form an attachment to my placement, which has been especially necessary here because working there has been such a challenge compared to working essentially anywhere else I've ever worked. Through my time there so far, we have (and are still) waging a war against lice, colds and now... SURPRISE! Chicken pox. We've had behavior problems, revelations of past abuse and abandonment, and a constant struggle with figuring out how to help the kids deal with the reality that no, their moms are probably not ever coming for them. 

But last Sunday a few other volunteers and I went to a festival held at my kids' school in Villa for their Independence Day (month). Every single one of my kids there was smiling, dancing, running around, just being a kid. I don't know if I've really ever felt that much joy and love radiating from one area ever in my life. During the few hours I was there, I really realized just how resilient my kids are and how resilient a population can be. Learning about resilience is one thing, but the impression actually witnessing it on such a large community scale has made on me is something I never could have gotten in a classroom and I could not be more grateful to have this opportunity. 

Every day this week I couldn't wait to get back to placement and see the light in my kids eyes when they figure out a new game or choreograph a dance to their favorite song on my iPod (I don't think I could ever be as good of a dancer as even the two-year-old if I took classes for YEARS). I was absolutely blown away too when I saw the older kids caring for the younger ones when they became upset and modeling good behavior and problem-solving skills they have been taught (no matter how infrequently that may happen, they have it in them somewhere!). I am so incredibly lucky to be able to witness this every day and hope with all of my heart that these kids continue to have people in their lives who wake up each morning grateful that they get to spend another day with them seeing the amazing accomplishments they are making. 

Casa Hogar Updates... Finally

So since we last talked lots has happened. Lets catch up. 

My first week at placement was terrifying. I didn't speak enough Spanish to feel like I was making any kind of impact or being of any kind of help to my kids or my placement overall so I had to reassess. This was a different kind of placement for me than what I'd experienced before. They didn't have a goal for me as a volunteer that I could latch onto. In Russia I needed to spend time with the children, take them outside, and help care for their basic needs to give them the best chance at thriving as tiny little people. In Tanzania, I needed to create lesson plans and IAPs for the children based on their specific strengths and deficits to work towards integrating them into the community. Casa Hogar was a little less clear. I was meant to help them with their chores and homework, get them dressed for school, and be a positive role model since they had not really been exposed to one before coming into the orphanage. Once this was clarified, it was much easier to integrate myself into the placement. 

In my first half of my volunteering, I have really gotten to know and love each of my kids. I saw that they could benefit from IAPs (individual action plans. They essentially set up specific behavioral and cognitive goals and objectives in tandem with the kids to improve their quality of life), so I introduced this concept to the nuns. They seemed receptive to it and thought that this was something that they could continue with children who come to Casa Hogar even after I've left. I also think that this gives the kids something to help each other with to increase their sense of community and family during a time in their lives when these two things might be severely lacking. I hope to revisit this sometime in the next week to make sure they are being used and if not see what they think might be more useful. 

I've also started to teach a few of the kids English. One in particular is smart as a whip. We have a few books in English and Spanish and he is amazing with the pronunciation. While we do chores, we teach each other phrases and his face lights up every time. Scrubbing floors becomes exponentially more fun when he can laugh at my ridiculous pronunciations of Spanish and blow me out of the water with how quickly he's learning English. 

As lots of people have heard, we also had/have a lice outbreak. It's literally like going into a microscopic war zone every day and the sense of victory I feel when I go home bug-free is only comparable to how itchy my head is when I watch a lice fiesta on the heads of my kids while I'm helping them with homework. I tried to bring lice shampoo but they don't seem to be using it as much as I push for it and my lack of Spanish makes it hard for me to do any education on what kids of behaviors are and aren't safe when you have lice (ie don't rub your head on my head and don't have a lice race on the table while doing homework). I've gotten to the point now where there isn't much more I can do. Some battles you win, some you don't. It won't stop me from stealing kids away to shampoo throughout the day though. 

That covers most of what's been happening at placement for the past month. I promise I'll update this much more often in my next month and I promise that from now on these blogs will be MUCH funnier. 

Ciao for now!

Stress and a Mansweater

So at this point I've been in Peru for three days. Within these three days my primary activity has been shivering and trying to find innovative ways of staying warm by layering the summer attire I stupidly brought with me to Peruvian winter. When I take a break from the shivering, I have volunteered at an orphanage called Casa Hogar. This is a place started by the community for street children whose parents have given them up for a variety of reasons, most commonly because their mothers have remarried and the new husband doesn't want to take care of children who aren't his. There are about six children home in the morning who go to school in the afternoon. On my first day there, I was told that the kids would be watching movies all morning and that I just had to sit with them. That quickly turned into trying to break up fights in a language I couldn't speak or understand. Between the fights, the kids were incredibly sweet and loving and I could tell that they were craving attention and a solid parental figure in their lives. 

Today, I got there and was ready to hang out with the kids again and get to know a little more about them. I was assigned to help one girl clean her room. Unfortunately, this little girl is very prone to acting out and quickly started beating me, locking me in a room, and throwing my shoes and translation sheets out the window. The rest of the day continued on like that for quite some time. It was one of the more discouraging moments of my volunteering. Not being able to speak Spanish, I couldn't really do anything to talk to her or stop her aggressive behavior and overall left the orphanage today feeling that I'm possibly doing more harm than good for these kids. The nuns there also have their day very structured but generally have nothing solid for me to do to keep the kids from beating on myself or each other. I would love to bring games or activities for them, but when I have tried to instigate activities in the past two days I have either been unable to communicate or have been told that the kids have other things to do. It also seems like several of the kids have a lot of the symptoms of reactive attachment disorder and I can't help but think that a constant flow of short term volunteers is only making it worse. Even though the kids are wonderful for the most part, I think I may have to leave that placement. Our program director is coming to help me out tomorrow, so we will see how it goes from there. 

On another note, to unwind from placement stress a group of us went to an outdoor full body Zumba situation that I'm still sore from. The middle aged women really kicked my ass. Then today I decided I had had enough of being cold so I went out to search from some clothing item that would keep me warmer. A really exhausting trip to the mall later I ended up in what seems like the equivalent of a Costco where I found the best mansweater for like $8. I may never take it off my body. Conclusion, no matter how ridic placement is, I will always be warm in my sweater when it's over. 

I Should've Reserved a Llama

Ok a word to the wise: maybe don't try to book two consecutive trips during midterms. One of them is bound to get screwed up in some way and it won't be the trip where you have 15 social workers with you. It'll be the one where you are jet lagged, haven't slept in 5 days, sat behind the one chair on your last flight that for some reason was the only chair on the plane able to fully recline into your lap, and are alone in the Lima airport armed only with the phrase "no habla espagnol" and the hope someone will take pity on the sad wet puppy you seem to have turned into. So in case you didn't get it, within a half hour of my arriving in Peru, after not having been able to find my CCS ride, I stole some airport workers phone who kindly let me call my program director to see what was up. Apparently they weren't expecting me until the next day. Don't ask me how this happened (although I can pretty confidently say it was my bad). Now after 15 hours of travel I'm still in the damn airport waiting for a taxi driver that my country director has sent to find me. Bright side: the place he told me to wait has like 10 different kinds of gelato and seems to be a hot spot for hilarious glamour shot selfies. I have a feeling this is just the first of many entertaining stories to come. Get excited, folks. 

Update: made it to the home base. I am safe but I've heard that I probably won't be able to figure out how to work the shower for at least a few weeks so this should be interesting/ smelly. 

I'm Going to Peru!!!

 So I've taken one very important step in my lifelong quest to ride a llama and reenact The Emperor's New Groove (and.. you know.. volunteer) and I'M GOING TO PERU!!! In case you're not aware, I'm also going to Israel this summer with BC to work with survivors of trauma and explore just how resilient people can be. So big things are happening, people!

I signed up for Peru yesterday with Cross-Cultural Solutions and it is my goal now to fundraise the whole trip. I'm doing a lot of this with CCS already (because they're fabulous), but I could really use some extra help. I'm not asking you to donate your first born, but any donation you could give would go directly towards educating children in Peru, purchasing workbooks and other school supplies (ie supplies for projects like making one of those baking soda and vinegar volcanoes we all got to make in 4th grade), purchasing craft supplies, and anything else you can suggest!

Now I realize that much of my target audience are starving college students, but I also know that these are starving college students with fabulous fundraising ideas. So, if you can't donate anything I would be equally grateful if you could give me some suggestions of ways to fundraise. I'll be posting all of my teaching endeavors on this blog, so you can even follow the progress of what your donation has helped with.

If you're curious for a little preview of what your donation will go towards, here's a little bit about where I'll be and what I'll be doing straight from the CCS website:

"Many CCS volunteers will work in the Lima, Peru, district known as Villa El Salvador with Peruvians who have been directly impacted by the Shining Path movement. In the 1980s, the political terrorism of the Sendero Luminoso, or “Shining Path” was felt throughout the country. The movement grew into a guerilla army responsible for the destruction of local infrastructure and ruthless in their killings and terrorist attacks. Although the movement saw its end in 1993, millions of Peruvians continue feel the residual effects of those dark days.
While Villa El Salvador was a main target of the Shining Path movement, the community has since evolved into a largely self-organized urban center. Largely in thanks to the efforts of its residents, the neighborhood that was once little more than a shantytown is now supplied with electricity, water, and sewage lines. In 1983, Villa El Salvador was formally recognized as an official district within the Lima province, and in 1987, the community received an award in recognition of its incredible progress and achievements over the years.
When you assist with the growth and development of children in Peru, you’ll support one of a variety of government run organizations and NGOs established to provide basic services to the most underserved sectors of Peruvian society. These organizations serve offer children a safe place to spend time, participate in enriching activities, and get academic support. " -Cross-Cultural Solutions #volunteerabroad

Pretty awesome, huh? So if you feel so inclined, go over to https://my.crossculturalsolutions.org/login.aspx and insert username cwilms into the sponsor section. I really appreciate it and can't wait to start updating you more!

Club Brunch

Hello again team,

I'm back. And I went to brunch. But not just any brunch. Club brunch.

What is club brunch you might ask? Well let me tell you. It's exactly what it sounds like unless you think it sounds like brunch at a country club, in which case it's absolutely nothing like it sounds. Club brunch is brunch for people who just didn't feel like stopping the party from the night before. But before I go too into detail, let me give you a little backstory:

It was one of my friends birthdays this weekend and for her actual birthday celebration on Sunday, she decided she wanted to go to this place called Gem and their event called "club brunch." Now as many of you are well aware, I have the stamina of a 90-year-old now that I've started grad school so mustering any kind of energy is a task. Luckily for my friends, they had the foresight not to tell me what I was about to get myself into so that I would be sure to attend (let's be real, promise me breakfast food and you could get me anywhere).

We arrive at club brunch and from outside can already hear the music. But to make the patrons even more confused, the inside of the building looks like an old Victorian building that has been turned into a club... except someone forgot to take all the pictures of our forefathers off the walls (for the record, I have a feeling our forefathers could have used a good club brunch). The permeating odor in the room made it seem like they were trying to cover up a murder and the trap doors in the walls only added to that. $40 worth of sandwich and 2 beverages later, the "club" was packed and I had lost my voice. I had also seen a gaggle of (or possibly just one rapidly moving) girls wearing fake police hats trying to "reprimand" brunch-goers. At this point it was 3pm. Lest you remember it was daytime and start to reevaluate your life choices, they pulled down the blackout curtains. However, I did not realize that pulling down the blackout curtains meant it was time for a Native American light show. Apparently that's what happens with the DJ change at club brunch. A group of scantily-clad waitresses wearing neon Native American accessories being lead by their... um... manager? chief?... with her large chief's headdress come parading out of the secret wall-door with what I can only describe as flashing seizure light sticks and suddenly make all the tables in the room disappear to create a giant dance floor. Except no one was dancing. Which made the whole situation even weirder. Everyone was standing around slightly moving (disclaimer: I in no way am saying that I have the ability to dance, I'm just saying that I can spot not-dancing when I see it). But in the same positions they would be in at a club: on chairs, in groups, waiving seizure lights. It was like the twilight zone.

BUT the real kicker of club brunch was the clientele, namely: bro's. There were SO MANY BRO'S at club brunch!!! On it's own, this wouldn't really cause me to think twice, however, WHAT would that conversation be like. I would like to think it goes a little bit like this:

Bro 1: Hey. Hey Bro... Uh... Wanna go to brunch tomorrow?

Bro 2: Sweet, man. I've been looking for an excuse to wear this sick new shirt. It's perfect for brunch. And I really love eggs Benedict.

Bro 1: Dude HELL. YEAH. I know this sweet spot man. CLUB brunch. It's like a club. But in the daytime. And with bacon.

.... so maybe I have no idea how that would go.... but it made so little sense I'm surprised I could even get 3 lines out of it. Really it would probably be just like this clip from How I Met Your Mother but with more fist pumping followed by excessively long pauses of awkward standing around and looking uncomfortable.

With that gem, I leave you possibly as confused as club brunch left me. You are welcome. 

So I Moved to Boston

It was a complete shit show. My cat peed on himself on the plane (there will be a belated blog entry about that soon), I TOOK a cat on a plane, I arrived at 5am and got to sleep for a total of 2 hours before going to get my keys. And then I got to my apartment...

It looked like it had been used as a petting zoo for two years. Now, we all know my love of zoos (if this confuses you see the previous blog entries) but I do not appreciate living in one. The entire thing was covered in a thick layer of yuck which resulted in the purchasing (and using) of $90 worth of cleaning products. It took me two hours to scrub HALF OF THE DAMN SHOWER, guys. Not even the whole thing! I had to take a break when the [probably toxic] combination of bleach, scrubbing bubbles, and clorox wipes had made my fingernails as floppy as tissues. It didn’t even seem to phase the mold though. There was so much of it that it seemed like at any minute I would hear it growling at me and realize that I was in fact trying to single-handedly obliterate a black bear living behind the wall that had gotten its fur stuck in the grout. The blinds were so dirty that even the professional cleaners (who came after Sheryl and I had a panic attack and called our landlord to keep ourselves from jumping out the window... which in all reality wouldn’t have even injured us since we’re on the first/second floor but you never know what kind of crazy ideas can result from low ventilation and toxic mold fumes. We probably would have at least been badly bruised.) told us that the blinds couldn’t be cleaned. The dirt had become one with the blinds. I’d be surprised if there was any plastic left on them at all.

After all of this, I had to navigate my way through the bus system to get to class. Note to all future students: never spend a weekend moving and locking yourself in fumey apartments when you have first impressions to make. Case in point, my introduction:
 
“My name is Claire and I’m from California and I just moved here a few days ago and I’ve been in the bathroom since then. NO. Not that I’ve been like in the bathroom I’ve been like in the bathroom. You know. Chiseling mold off the walls. I HATE MOLD. Oh wait, I was supposed to talk about social work.”

And then I talked about social work. And mold. I’m pretty sure my class could have made a drinking game out of my mold monologue. You know, if they did things like drink in class. Which you don’t because it’s grad school. Or school in general. What is happening right now? I’m pretty sure the mold is taking over.

Despite all of this I managed to make a few new friends. Either that or I scared them so much they felt the need to social work me and not leave the manic mold girl from California alone for everyone’s safety. Especially the mold’s.