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.