Worth it

Well, the one-year mark (my Hondo-versary, if you will,) came and went, and I’m not sure how that happened. Although I continue to learn and grow each day, I have also found a sense of home and comfort in the Ranch and the kids. While I am recognized and greeted by many, I manage to befriend someone new almost every day or further nurture a previously established relationship. I still strive to become a stronger Spanish speaker, although I am relieved to feel more comfortable expressing myself in my second language.

In the weeks leading up to my departure to Honduras, now almost 14 months ago, I was nervous and overwhelmed. I followed my weekly to-do lists, but still felt as though it could not all be done. One frenzied afternoon, I allowed myself a quick break to shower before moving on to my next carefully planned task. I remember my sister stopping in the bathroom to grab something, and I may have snapped at her for interrupting my few minutes of peace. When I stepped out of the shower, however, I found an iced coffee with a note on the counter. My sister and I came to love summer iced coffee runs, and in my state of stress and worry, she could not have offered a better gift. I remember reading the note and thinking, “Gosh, Marissa, I hope you’re right.”

Over a year has passed, and I can finally reflect upon, thank, and validate my sister’s small, but powerful gesture. Marissa, you were right. All the to-do lists, doctor appointments, and errands were worth the stress. All of the worries and fears, the hard goodbyes, and hasty Spanish grammar reviews were worth the stress. All the rough stomach days, the head lice bouts, and bug bites are (still) worth the stress.

I cannot say I have loved every single day. I have cried, I have missed (and still miss) home, I have been so frustrated I wonder what on earth I am doing here. But by the end of each hard day, God always manages to send me some form of affirmation or joy. It has come in the form of my fellow volunteers slowly becoming my family, a hug or declaration of love from a child, or a text from family or friends at home. It has come in the form of my wonderful friends and family coming to visit, or the opportunity to see Honduras and Central America.

Exploring Lago de Yajoa, Honduras

It has been so worth it that I decided I wasn’t quite ready to leave in July. After countless pro/con lists, prayers, and deliberations, I officially requested to extend as the speech-language pathologist for 6 months longer. With all of the new children who had arrived in November and December, I finally felt settled with their evaluations and therapy schedules, and wanted more time to gain a sense of their communication. I wanted more time to foster relationships with my family on the Ranch. Most of all, I wanted more time with my girls. I know I cannot stay here forever, but I feel incredibly lucky to be able to remain on the Ranch for longer than I had originally planned. I still sometimes have moments of panic and think I need to leave and start my career in the US. But I trust that this is where I need to be, and everything will work out the way it is supposed to. And I continue to learn and grow, professionally and personally, with each therapy session and night in hogar.

Many of you already knew, but for those of you who didn’t, I apologize for not sharing with you sooner. It’s officially official: Leff is going to stay on an adventure for a little while longer. I thank you for your continued love, interest, prayers, and support in this crazy, beautiful life I’m able to lead. 

Two of the cutest reasons (three, if you include my wonderful Suyapa co-volunteer, Christina) why I wasn't quite ready to leave.

Babies at the beach

The Tuesday after Easter Sunday, Casa Suyapa left for the highly anticipated annual trip to the beach. There had been concerns about funds and space since we now have over 100 kids in the hogar, but we were fortunate to still be able to go. A countdown calendar was placed on the wall, and the kids crossed off the days until it was finally time to pack two full school buses, a storage truck, a huge van, and hit the road.

One of the buses before the tíos tied 20+ mattress on top.

 Monday evening was a flurry of packing and frantic kids. The girls wanted to help pack, when the greatest help they could offer was to go to bed so the adults could prepare everything. Mattresses were tied to the top of the buses, bags and bags of diapers were loaded, and all the food we would need for the next 4 days had to be organized and stored.

After some final packing and mass distribution of carsick medicine, we left the Ranch and started our little adventure. We stopped for lunch on the way and arrived about 4-5 hours later. We unloaded the truck, set up the sleeping areas, and started dinner. Everyone was tired from the heat and traveling, so it was an early night.

Here we go!

Wednesday morning, the beach frenzy began. I helped inflate water toys for the kids and wiggled water wings up sticky little arms. We had a morning beachside Mass, and then it was water time. The kids lined up along the shore, clutching their inflatable Shamus and jet skis, waiting for the countdown when they could finally swim.

My 5:30am wake up call. Look at that morning hair.

Patiently waiting to swim 

 Photo credit: Hunter Johnson

We did the same routine for Thursday: breakfast, beach, lunch, nap, beach, dinner. Friday the kids swam in the morning while some of the adults packed and cleaned. We left after lunch, and didn’t arrive back on the Ranch until close to 9:00pm.

Christina and I taking a break from the sun.

Photo bomb captured by Val Sis

There was a lot about the trip that was hard. I was sweating constantly. I applied SPF 50 several times and still managed to burn. I woke up each day with at least one of my girls on my mattress with me, wanting to snuggle in 85+ degree heat. Christina and I saw a scorpion scuttle across the floor, a mere 10 feet away from our mattresses before going to bed. There were 3 bathrooms for over 130 people.

Yet, as has been the case during my volunteer year, the good far outweighed the bad. The kids had a break from chores, and just got to be kids. Instead of school work and mopping, the kids played in the sand and ocean for 3 straight days. I got to know the tíos and tías better, and we bonded over sunburn (well, my sunburn, their tans) and surviving the heat. I am so grateful to my fellow Suyapa volunteers for applying sunscreen, laughing through our exhaustion, and for braving our 3:30am wakeup calls to make breakfast for everyone.

We made it!

Making pupusas. It's between 4:00-5:00am

Some of the kids & adults performing "one minute of fame" before bed

I don’t know if I would be ready to go to the beach again, but I am glad I had this experience. Just last week, one of the Chiquitos told me he was ready to leave for the beach the next day. While it was exhausting, and so much work, it truly is one of the highlights of the year for the kids. 

Photo cred to Hunter Johnson

Los nuevos ingresos

I have no excuses. I’m falling behind on my blogging, and I’m so sorry about it. I continue to think of post ideas, but I seem to now have a harder time sitting down and actually writing them. But I promise to continue to post, however sporadic it seems to be.

Early in November, within the holiday chaos, the Ranch experienced some major changes. The Honduran government shut down the government-run Honduran Institution for Childhood and Family (abbreviated as IHNFA), which provided housing and care for hundreds of children. Suddenly, all of these children needed new homes. NPH was contacted and asked to receive some of the children. NPH social work traveled all over the country to review files. We learned that we would receive approximately 35-40 children in November and another 35-40 in December. The majority of these children were under the age of 3.

There was a tension and anticipation in the air the night the first group of nuevos ingresos was to arrive in November. Cribs were frantically being assembled, bottle parts laid out, and sheets washed. My girls were distracted during shower time, and kept asking me to check and see if the nuevos had arrived. When the car pulled up outside of Casa Suyapa, the kids cheered and clapped. Although the intentions were good, I would have found all the people and noise to be terrifying. Each child was carried through the doorway, including a 5-week old baby, now the Ranch’s youngest.

Sweet baby M, the night he arrived on the Ranch

M in early February

This change has impacted everyone on the Ranch, including volunteers. From a work perspective, my already full caseload has just become even bigger. I am required to evaluate every new kid who comes to the Ranch, and write a report regarding their speech and language development. I have only ever had to write a few reports at a time, since new kids have always come to the Ranch in smaller groups. My last months of work have consisted of evaluating and report writing. I know my SLP friends can sympathize how dull, albeit necessary, this work has been. It continues to both humble and intimidate me that I am alone in evaluating and determining who needs therapy.  

Assessment has continued to be one of the most challenging aspects of my job as a SLP. I have 20-30 minutes to get a sense of the child’s speech and language using the materials available in my classroom. Many of these children have never participated in school or structured activities and cannot focus for sustained periods of time, so I often need to get my “snapshot” as quickly as possible. Once I have evaluated children and written the report, I justify and explain my decisions as clearly and thoroughly in Spanish as I can, and continue to monitor the kids throughout the school year.

After a productive session with one of my newest buddies. He insisted on putting his hard-earned sticker on his forehead.

Hogar has also drastically changed. One of the rooms in Casa Suyapa off of the kitchen, which once housed tables and chairs for the kids to do homework, a TV for movie nights, and other materials, has now become Babyland. The room is lined with cribs, and is now full of changing tables, rocking chairs, and a play area.

I now have 41 girls in hogar. I don’t have as much time to put the girls to bed, and try to spend individual time with 2-3 girls a night, though I know that isn’t sufficient. I now share the girls with Christina, a new volunteer who came in January, and I am so happy to have another volunteer with me!

Just a few of my new sweet and sassy girls

One of the international directors of NPH Honduras came to the volunteer house one night in October to explain what would be happening, and to confirm the rumors we had heard throughout the Ranch. In response to our shocked faces and flurry of questions, he smiled and agreed that the rest of our time on the Ranch would be different and present new challenges. Towards the end of our conversation, he looked at us and said, “I know this isn’t ideal. We’re about to head into the holidays, we don’t have the space or the tíos to care for all of these children. But these children don’t have homes. If we don’t take them, who will? And if we don’t take them now, when will we?”

This conversation is one of the best ways to explain my time at NPH Honduras. Just when I think I have a routine and I understand how things work, a surprise presents itself. Whether that surprise has been 60+ new children to evaluate, an encounter of head lice (yes, it has happened,) or just feeling homesick, I continue to learn how to tackle the challenge with grace, maturity, and a sense of humor. I continue to be grateful to my fellow volunteers who have picked through my head, given me insight on a child on my “to evaluate” list, or have laughed their way through the stress with me.

The four "July group" girls

When the welcome parade had finally settled down on the night of the nuevos’ arrival in November, one of the new little girls  (in the purple sweater below) came up to me and beckoned for me to crouch down. She looked at me and asked, “And now where to do we go?” She had been traveling all day, and didn’t realize this was her final destination. When I told her, “This is where you are going to stay. You are home,” she gave me the biggest smiled and skipped off to eat a late dinner. She only came into my life 4 months ago, but now, I can’t really imagine the Ranch without her.

Photo credit to photographer extraordinaire Mister Raúl Gomez. 

Holidaze

For the first time in my life, I spent the holiday season in a short-sleeve shirt. I ate Thanksgiving dinner with bamboo and guayaba trees an arm’s length away, applied sunscreen on Christmas Eve, and doused my ankles in deet to welcome 2015. My winter holidays were different than anything I had ever experienced before. Immediately looking back on my November and December, I remember a great deal of sleep deprivation, eating far too many Christmas cookies, and a collection of impressive bruises on my legs that are just beginning to fade. Upon deeper reflection, however, I know that I also continued to grow and learn, so I’ll do my best to try and articulate some of that, holiday by holiday.

Día de acción de gracias

For Thanksgiving, the American volunteers worked together to have a delicious dinner. We managed to find a turkey (a surprisingly difficult task,) and perhaps more importantly, a gracious visitor who was willing to prepare it, since all of us 20-somethings didn’t know the first thing about making a turkey. We had many of the staple side dishes, though I searched in vain to my find my beloved sweet potatoes. Thanksgiving afternoon was a cooking frenzy. All of the volunteers were in and out of our tiny kitchen, using every pot and pan we have. Our salad was served in a plastic Tupperware bin, but no one cared. We lit candles, locked our crazy cat Mathias away so she couldn’t eat our dinner, and shared what we were thankful for. For many of the European volunteers, it was their very first Thanksgiving, and it was special to share the day with them. It was one of my favorite days on the Ranch.
                                        

When it was my turn to share what I am thankful for, a million material items popped into my head. I’m thankful for the hot sauce that adds some flavor to my rice and beans. I’m thankful for the washing machine in the volunteer house that allows me to have more free time. I’m thankful for the care packages of coffee and goodies that arrive from visitors. It wasn’t until a few days later, however, that I came up with a better response.

Earlier in November, we had had another día de visita, or day when family members of the pequeños visit the Ranch and spend the day with the kids, while the volunteers spend the day with the kids who have no visitors. We watch movies, swim, and eat lots of food. During movie #2 I was asked to walk a few kids down to the school, because their father had arrived. As we walked down, the little girl who is in my hogar held my hand and didn’t say a word. Her older brother trailed behind us, and when I turned around to check on him, he told me he didn’t want to see his dad.

I had agreed to walk the kids to the school because: a) someone needed to b) I wanted to take a walk c) I was curious to see what Visit Day looked like for the kids that had family outside the Ranch. I went to the school for purely intrinsic reasons, which I’m not proud of, but at the time, it was the truth. Watching the father greet his kids and seeing all the pequeños with their families took all of those selfish thoughts from my mind. I felt a mixture of both happiness to see a family reunited, but also sadness because for whatever reason, these families cannot be together day to day. That seemingly easy favor was an important reminder of why I’m here, and how these kids continue to change me. So, yes, I continue to be grateful for hot sauce and washing machines. But I am most thankful to be able to be a part of these kids’ lives, even if I will eventually have to leave (a reality I refuse to acknowledge). I know, it’s cheesy, but I’m most grateful for these little learning moments that snap me out of superficiality and allow me to have a more humble, more selfless perspective.

We used every single dish, plate, container, etc. 

The dessert table aka the best table 

Mashing 10 lbs. of potatoes

Pre-lockdown getaway

In early December, all of the volunteers were given five “freebie” days off before we were locked down on the Ranch for two straight weeks. Most of us used the days to relax in preparation for the upcoming chaos. I traveled with three other volunteers to Utila, one of the Bay Islands, off the north coast of Honduras. We snorkeled, ate, went to the beach, ate, shopped, and ate. Padre happened to be going to Utila for the long weekend as well to squeeze in some scuba diving before the holidays. It went by too fast, but I’m lucky to have traveled to another part of the country.

Claire was the only brave one to try out scuba diving.

 Lockdown/Christmas/New Years

After a relaxing trip to Utila, it was lockdown time. All of the employees left the Ranch, and the high school and university students, along with the volunteers, were responsible for caring for the kids. Lockdown was exhausting. We worked a minimum of eight hours each day in hogar. Although caring for Casa Suyapa was bound to be challenging, it was especially difficult since we had recently received 40+ new kids in November and December (spoiler alert: my next post’s topic).

Christmas did not really feel like Christmas, which I suppose was due to a variety of reasons. It was warm outside, I had to work all day and night, and it was the first time being away from my family. I kept thinking about what I would be doing that very moment at home, which didn’t help my homesickness. I was nervous about doing turno for the first time, or staying overnight with my girls in hogar. Christmas Eve mass was very nice, and all of the kids proudly wore their estreno, or new outfits they had received earlier in the day

The girls’ Christmas stockings were delivered around 2:00am. I got to play Santa and place all of the stockings in the lockers. The girls woke up before the sun and all “needed to use the bathroom.” After bathing and completing morning chores, they finally could open their lockers and get their stockings. I felt like a zombie (and probably looked like one, too,) but hearing their squeals of joy only deepened my love for my girls and pushed my exhaustion and homesickness out of my mind.

The stockings were placed (the doors wouldn't shut if I actually hung them up) in the lockers with care...

Anxiously waiting to open their lockers.

In addition to working in hogar, the volunteers participated in the Ranch-wide soccer tournament. The male volunteers joined some of the University teams, but we had enough women volunteers to form a team of our own. Although we may have looked fierce in our fancy running shoes and workout tanks, to no one’s surprise, we ended the tournament 0-5. About 30 seconds into game 1, we realized we lacked the fancy footwork that seemed to be innate to these girls, and all Hondurans, for that matter. Many of us resorted to using our bodies as a poor substitute to skill, and consequently took a soccer ball to the face, chest, legs, etc. Despite this humbling (both mentally and physically) experience, the tournament was a lot of fun.

See those outstretched arms in triumph? Those are mine. Just scored a goal with my LEFT foot. One of my greatest accomplishments to date.

On New Year’s Eve, we enjoyed a delicious dinner and had a huge (actually the biggest I have ever seen in my life) bonfire. Later in the evening, the volunteers performed a dance for the kids. We had squeezed in rehearsals every day when we weren’t at hogar or attempting to play soccer.

It was scarier in person.

As we counted down to midnight, my immediate resolution to myself was to manage to not be blown up by the fireworks that were literally going off over my head. Apparently, Honduran safety regulations don’t really exist when it comes to fire. But as far as I know, no one got hurt. I also got to spend my New Year’s Eve with two very special visitors: my mom and brother Matt! They had flown in earlier that afternoon. Though they were exhausted from traveling, they made it to midnight and enjoyed meeting the kids. I had a wonderful next week showing them the Ranch and traveling to Copán for a long weekend.

3/5 Leffs on the Ranch!

These may have been the fastest two months in Honduras. It wasn’t the most restful or stress-free, but perhaps the most memorable. I continue to be thankful for my time here, with my volunteer family and the kids, and to the months ahead on the Ranch.

Here’s to an even bigger, brighter, rice-and-beans-rich 2015.