Casa de Chicas sin las famillias

The above is not the name of the place where I volunteered- I never quite knew the name. It´s sort of a butchered Spanish version of what the home was - a house where girls without suitable families could come for food, shelter, some schooling, and the support of the ¨Mamas¨ (three little Peruvian ladies - the grandma, the sporty (v. competitive) one, and the young one who spent the nights with girls), the ¨Misses¨ (us, the volunteers!), and most importantly each other.

Everyday for the last two weeks after my lunchtime siesta, I told the taxi driver ¨Plaza Modena circa el cemetario" (which does mean near the huge town cemetary) and then on the right hand side of the plaza in the middle of the strip of ladies selling beautiful flowers there was a 7 ft door (huge by American standards, gigantic by Peruvian ones) that I knocked on or, the few times it was working, rang the door bell.

For two weeks, I felt nervous at that very moment. Partially because I spoke absolutely no Spanish even after two weeks of classes (I told Krista that my brain feels more like a rock and less like a sponge daily) and just because everyday I didn´t quite know how the afternoon would go. Would the Mama Psychologist be there talking to the girls while I listened on, struggling to understand words like ¨self esteem¨in Spanish (apparently ¨autoestima¨), would the girls be involved in an epic game of volleyball which I would inevitably have to join, or would all the girls be waiting with their notebooks and dictionaries, ready to learn, and prepared with pages of sentences needing to be translated into English? Everday was a mystery.

Anway, despite the confusion (some I attribute to a bit of disorganization, some to the culture, and some to the communication difficulties) here I was a let into the lives of ten special little girls who, for some reason or another, had run away from their families.

Here are the names and a little description of each of the girls, mostly so I´ll remember. It´s still amazing to me what you can glean just from body language and general demeanor without being able to communicate much verbally and being from totally different countries, cultures, perspectives, and stages in life.

Shirley - who ruled the roost, bossed the other girls around with an iron fist, but gentle smile and pretty much did whatever she wanted. One of the only girls who could get away with teasing the Mamas.

Albina - one of the older girls who was tiny, with a mane of long hair, and terribly shy, but would grab my hand and pull me over to the English translations what she was working on out of a colorful little primary book.

Guadeloupe- the goof. Always asking if I brought candy and frequently staring up at the sky with a dazed look in her eye.

Vanessa - the brains. Used to being the best in the class and not needing much attention, but every once and a while surprising me with a charming question.

Ruth - something a little naughty about Ruth, but her English (and her French, mind you!) were impeccable if you could con her into saying something.

Leonarda - another one of the older girls who struggled with English as her native language was Quechua (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quechua) and who would wander off, lost in her own thoughts, a little sad, but would always respond to a hug or a shoulder squeeze.

Yaneth - Shirley´s protege - young, but tough and also a native Quechua speaker. My lasting memory will be her serving a volleyball with a whole lot of power straight at me (already established as the worst player of the group and an easy point-builder) and saying ¨Miss, Contesta??¨. Oh yes and she´s missing a front tooth - this is important for the last image. :-)

Elsa - If you are allowed to have favorites, she was mine. Always looking out for me with a shy smile and a little tear in her eye that broke my heart when we said goodbye yesterday.

Lidia- knitting whiz kid. (They were in fact all good knitters, but I think Lidia knitted at least one sweater and one scarf while I worked there.). This is important because part of the goal of the house is to make the girls self-sufficient and perhaps where they haven´t had the opportunity to get an education and may not be able to do any further schooling, they´ll be able to use skills like knitting and cooking to make money in the future.

Rosemary- my dancing queen. For two of the days, when life just got too serious, we had afternoon dance parties. Rosemary, who the girls called Mery, was my most adept student and taught me a few moves, too. Something we had a lot of fun with.

The circumstances behind each of the girls being there is still a little unclear- in bits and pieces I got a few details over 2 weeks, but it would have taken a lot more time to gain the girl´s complete trust. I know that a few were physically and-or sexually abused by fathers or husbands and while it wasn´t always so obvious from the outset, each girl was dealing with issues too complicated for young girls to have to deal with.

Too, I think there was a little bit of a stumbling block in that these girls had seen a myriad of volunteers who come in and out for a week or two weeks at a time. And, like any good teenagers, they´d learned to work the system - asking me for photos to be developed, a new volleyball, and a trip to the pool, etc. (the first two of which I obliged!), but I realized, a bit too late and despite the warnings during our orientation, the valuable thing I could provide was my time and energy.

That said, it´s frustrating that I don´t have more time and in a perfect world I´d be fluent in Spanish, but I feel like during the time I was there I made them giggle, gave them some much needed affection which does, I hope, translate into confidence, and hopefully, hopefully they´ll remember an English word or two and maybe a recipe to chocolate chip and banana pancakes.