Making Adjustments

Last night, I finally hung up a bug net. I didn’t do it to prevent mosquito bites (Although I should have been protecting myself from them for the last two months). The cost of my laziness:  I have willingly offered myself up as a midnight snack to blood suckers, literally been EATEN alive. But one Honduran creature is too much to bear. The “ron-ron”, is a small beetle-like organism that relishes in being obnoxious. It will hone in on its target, scream loudly like it’s a Soviet missile, launch itself on its victim and then bounce off. The thing about “ron-rons” is that they are not even scary or gross. They are infuriatingly annoying and stupid.

The night I decided to hang up my frilly lace bug net (a hilarious treasure I found on the “free table”), five “ron-rons” attacked me. The first incident was mildly comical. I was innocently sitting at a bonfire. My predator gave out its warning call, bee-lined for my ponytail and bounced off on to its back, too dumb to turn over. I took great satisfaction watching it squirm on its back, brewing in its lowest level of intelligence. Minutes later, the second one seriously aggravated me. I couldn’t believe how ridiculous these bugs were! Bugs 3, 4 and 5 chose to lay siege on me in my bed while I was in varying stages of sleep. I was absolutely infuriated.

Anyone who knows me can only imagine my series of unintelligible rages that took place towards these bugs, especially the vermin (let’s call him Paul) that chucked itself on my sternum right as I dozed off. Sheets were thrown into the air, limbs launched out of bed, lights slammed on, probably a ferocious retaliation call flew into the air… All I will say is this: the three bugs are mysteriously missing from the “ron-ron” community. There may or may not be traces of their bodies smeared on the back of my Spanish-English dictionary.

Hanging up a bug net feels like the first physical step that I have taken to call NPH “home”. It has been difficult to feel completely settled when I am still living out of my suitcase. Due to construction in the volunteer house, it has been two months and counting in the visitor dorms with six other girls. Over the last week, I have been increasingly aware that “I am here”. This is not a vacation; this is my life and community. It is difficult to find a natural transition from being an outsider, visitor, and grinka, to participating as a defined and respected member of the NPH family. Being told not to buy street food is easy when you are a tourist, but as a Honduran resident the laws of living are different. This is my current waging battle: not just observing, but creating an identity.

One of the most glaring obstacles, especially in my hogar, is the clash between my lofty goals as a volunteer and the stereotypical expectations of what it means to be white. To girls who have been raised by the generous donations of their far-removed sponsors, a white person can often mean “stuff”. A padrino (sponsor) implies money, luxuries, receiving (However, I am NOT in any way discounting the value of sponsors- many kids consider their sponsors as family). A week-long NPH visitor means coloring books, toys, new clothes, even actual gifts off their backs, wrists and fingers. How is a white person who is not leaving any time soon, who does not give from far away, who admittedly does have a laptop, an ipod, a dishwasher, a FAMILY, supposed to fit in to this stereotype? To a white person, living in community can often mean the giving of things. Things are good, especially when there is so much to give: the kids need clothing, they thrive on music, soccer balls provide hours of entertainment and scented lotion makes them feel special and beautiful. But I have not quite decided where my obligation lies..

But it is tough to go to my hogar every night, excited to make friends with the girls, only to have them ask for my bracelet, to demand my water bottle, to command me to bring my laptop the next night, to not even say “please” when they tell me to give them my chapstick that I had shared with them. There is a blatantly blurred distinction among what it means to share what I have, give what is needed, all the while maintaining a positive presence. Beyond being a presence, I want to be an engaged participant with my hogar without having to resort to giving “stuff”. I was feeling especially discouraged about this issue last night when a girl in my hogar told me I am selfish, egotistical and do not like to share my stuff. Only ten minutes before I had given what I considered a meaningful, thoughtful gift to two girls who had birthdays. I had decided that instead of bringing a cake, which can easily be inhaled within two minutes by 24 girls, I would give the lasting gift of a photo to each girl on her special day- any photo that she wanted. I went to bed confused about my role at NPH Honduras. How am I supposed to give?

Today I found a renewed sense of solace in an external hard drive. In my office, I was going through a file of years worth of old pictures, stored by past Communications Officers. I found a file from 2003 called “Social Work cases”, named for the NPH office that works to find and bring local kids to the ranch from horrendous circumstances. Hidden inside were intimate glimpses, caught on film, into the seemingly secret, hushed pasts of many kids who are on the ranch right now.

One girl was from my hogar. Although I recognized her by the crazy curly hair, she did not have the same lively smile that defines her face today. In the photos, she is filthy and naked except for a pair of dingy underwear.  Her face is covered in bruises and snot. Standing in front of a house made partially of cardboard, she looks terrified. She has a sister in the picture as well.

 I felt sick to my stomach experiencing the living conditions and treatment of a severely physically handicapped boy, via photo. The pictures reveal severe malnourishment and abuse in his home. I remember seeing him in person at Casa Angeles, the NPH special needs home. He is 23 years old like me. His name is Kevin, like my uncle who also had physical disabilities as a result from Marfan’s Syndrome. But his family was ashamed of him- they treated him like a dog. He slept, mangled body curled in on itself, on filthy cardboard.

To see a person’s story is so much more powerful than to just hear it. The photos showed me their pasts and I felt an instant connection to them, I wanted to show them that I could care about them. This was a clear reminder “sharing is caring”.

Around the same time, I also received a very wise e-mail. It reminded me that “they miss their families just like you miss yours, find a way to relate to them”. EXCEPT: I still have a family. Deep down, I know that part of why I am struggling with how to share, is because there is an underlying guilt of having so much to share.  Every day is a reminder that it is just not fair that I have parents, a car, health, an education, intangible and unconditional love.. Simultaneously, I watch the side effects of hundreds of kids who grew up with the exact opposite.

Admittedly, I am here to offer what I can. But as in everything, balance is key.  I want to construct a purposeful sharing: I do not want to give my possessions because kids want something or I feel guilty. I hope to share little things and experiences, like making bracelets or doing yoga classes, and over time build a concept of sharing that demonstrates being cared for, being related to. Looking back on my childhood experiences, I remember how awesome it was when my aunts gave me nail polish, when they got me magazines, or shared special treats with me. But the best part was that their gifts often involved spending time with them, and revealed how much they knew about me.

I can’t completely destroy a stereotype: to many, white people are walking dollar bills to be taken advantage of.  I can work to construct an understanding of what “sharing” means; so that when the girls in my hogar receive gifts, they understand that they are given in love. Hopefully, the more NPH becomes “home”, the easier this will be! On a less heavy note.. I am having a blast! I have even come to the point where I look forward to a nice meal of beans…

I am sorry that it has been a while since I put up a post- I have mostly just been getting settled in my job! More to come soon..Hugs to everyone back home :)