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.
