April 2

It’s my second day with the girls and I’ve already cried. Today I had to get them to clean their room before they showered for vespers. I was trying so hard, but no one would listen. They also kept reminding me that they didn’t like me and wanted me to go back to America because they wanted the other volunteer back. They gave me so much attitude, I wanted to scream. So instead of screaming, I just walked out of the room and fast walked to my room, closed the door and cried. I think the girls realized they had pushed me to my point and one of the girls came in after a while and said they had cleaned the room. Thankfully I had enough time to fix my face. I know that it’s hard for them because year after year, they become close to someone and they end up leaving. They have to have a defense mechanism. I don’t blame them for my mini break down, I’m just frustrated with the situation. I don’t know how to fix it and I’m tired of having to fight with them all the time.

March 30

Okay, so one more day of freedom. I have tomorrow left and then I’m going to have to take care of the girls starting on Thursday. Amanda already gave me advice on how to handle the girls in certain situations and she gave me all of her equipment (stickers, charts, a christian spanish CD for kids, etc.). I should feel ready to take them on, but it‘s not like that at all. But the more I think about it, there’s another part of me that is telling me that I need it. You know how we often take advantage of the things we need the most? Well, maybe this experience will help me open my eyes more and more and help me not go a moment without falling on my knees for help. Maybe it will force me to realize (and realize it often) that I need God‘s power to work through me and in me. I can’t do it on my own and I need to ask for help.

March 28

Today is my weekend work day. I just finished putting the girls to sleep and I’m extremely tired. The girl that usually takes care of them tells them stories at night. This is a lot harder than it sounds. In case you forgot… I’m in Honduras. I’m still dealing with these things in Spanish. I‘m not where I want to be in my Spanish, but I’m still trying my hardest to tell them stories on the days I put them to bed. I’m surprised the girls don’t pass on the stories. They still want to hear it even though they have to wait extra long for the words to come out of my mouth and a lot of times they have to correct me. Thankfully they’re patient with me in that area. The problem is, as soon as Amanda leaves this week, they’re going to be asking me for more stories. While this may be good for my Spanish, it means I have to work extra hard to search for stories. I’m already struggling to remember stories. Don't judge me, but...I took the video fifty first dates and told them that… well… the general idea. Girl has a serious problem, guy falls in love with her, guy works to get her, girl doesn’t want him to get hurt, guy leaves, guy comes back, happy ending. I only hope they understood. Uncle Arthur, where are you when I need you?

March 25

Recently things have been very very rough on me. I feel as though sometimes this place brings out the worst in me. I’ve been thinking about home more and more. Do you remember when I said that I’m torn about leaving here? Some days I want to give up and go home and other days I can’t imagine leaving? Well recently I’ve been wanting to give up. Things seem to be getting crazier at the Infa. There are always kids calling my name and tugging on me. There have been times when I’ve had 5 kids yelling my name at the same time. I’m not exaggerating. And these kids don’t just say what they want once, they repeat and repeat until they get it. There’s one jumping on my back and wanting to play. There’s another pulling my arm because they want me to get them a glass of water. There’s another one crying and saying that someone just hit them. There’s someone bleeding all kinds and I need to go clean them up and bandage it. There’s someone asking for toilet paper (the kids have to ask us every time they need it). Of course there are many other reasons they could be yelling my name, but these are the ones that I hear very often. I especially hate dealing with the kids who are fighting. They’re already in a bad mood and they like to redirect that anger on me after I punish them. Pray for me and my patience. I definitely need more of it.

March 23

Next week one of the other student missionaries is going to leave. This means that I have to take over the little girls’ room. All this time I’ve been like the babysitter. I would take care of them on the weekend. I would always dread having to work on the weekend because you know how kids behave for the babysitter or the substitute teacher. It’s always ten times worse than normal. That’s what I have to deal with every weekend when I have to take care of the girl’s room. I remember the first time I had to take care of them. Right after they went to bed, I ran to my room and cried. Now I have to be with them everyday for the rest of my time here. I feel bad about it, but I feel a lot closer to the kids at the Infa. They’re just as rowdy, sometimes more, but I know how to handle it at the Infa. I’m at the Infa most of the day. I don’t know what to do here at the Hogar. Amanda (the one that is taking care of the girls right now) said that she felt the same way when she started taking care of the girls. They wouldn’t listen and they would be absolutely terrible with her, but after they got used to her, they settled down. The thing is, I don’t feel like I have any more patience for the “getting used to me” part. I need a lot of prayer because next week my work load gets a lot heavier and I’m scared that I’m going to be snapping at the kids more than having the patience that I want to have.

At the Infa things are stressful… especially on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. The missionaries before us started a reading program with the kids and I wanted to start it up again. When I was helping some of the kids with their homework, I found kids that are in 6th grade who still cannot read. This really got to me because my parents have always pushed me to do well in school and I feel like there’s no one to push these kids and even if they want to, the teachers don’t always give them the attention they need. So what I’m doing is paying a teacher around $7.50 each week to help these kids. Thankfully the Seventh Day Adventist church in Newbury Park “the Place” has donated money and I’m going to use that to continue paying her and buying supplies for these kids. She’s actually a teacher at the high school and agreed to help out. She’s definitely not in it for the money and I’m thankful that there’s someone like her to help from her heart. The first day she came she told the kids, “Never believe anyone that tells you that you aren’t smart. All of you are very intelligent. The problem is the teacher. It has nothing to do with you. They didn’t teach you right, but It’s okay because now I’m here and I’m going to teach you.” That right there won me over. I could already tell that she cared about the kids. Although we have a teacher and I’m there helping, there’s still one major problem. The kids that really really need to come aren’t coming. I’ve already started to bribe them by telling them if they stay they’ll get lollipops. I feel like I need to talk to the 6th grader’s mom, but even then, sometimes the parents may not even care. It’s been hard especially because I’ve tried so hard to set this up for them and then when I talk to those who really need to come, they agree that they’ll stay. Then three o’clock comes around and they run down the street. One day I ran out to the street and called after them. I was desperate. I called for those certain kids to come back so I could talk to them. I wanted to at least try to convince them to stay. They turned around and started dashing down the street. I was so frustrated that I was about to cry, but I told myself that there are others in the class right now that want to learn and I have to do all I can for them. So I went back to the classroom and started helping the kids who are younger. The teacher takes the older kids and I take the younger ones. There are these certain kids who I cannot control. They were disrupting the whole class and anything and everything I did wouldn’t work. I couldn’t sit there and watch them the whole time, I had to help different kids with their work. I was going crazy. I wanted to spend the time with certain kids (there’s this one boy who would switch b for c and s for f. He didn‘t know his alphabet either). Anyways, at the end of the class, I gave the lollipops to everyone except for these certain troublemakers and the boys flipped out. At first they started begging me and saying sorry. When they realized that there was no way I would give in, they became angry and yelled not so nice things at me and the teacher. I wanted to take them out of the class forever, but these kids need it. They’re the ones we see at the Infa early because they say their teachers kicked them out. How are they supposed to learn anything if the teachers are kicking them out and if we‘re kicking them out too? They need special attention and I want to give it to them, but I don’t have enough of me to give special attention that I want to give to everyone. I really don’t know what to do.

March 16

Last week there was a group of Americans (the kids always referred to them as gringos). They were a college group from somewhere near Chicago. They came to build a small room at the Infa for Mirna and her son to sleep. They also came to give VBS for the kids at the Infa. The week before I was extremely excited about them coming, all the memories of what it was like with groups flooded back. Don’t get me wrong, it’s really touching that people will come to help and I’m especially happy when I get to see my kids like this, but the downside is somehow whenever groups come, the kids seem to be taking energy pills by the handful. Tarynn and I felt like all we did was punish the kids. I was tired and it didn’t help that the sun felt like dropping a 105 degree bomb on us. Last Thursday night the group invited us to have ice cream with them and we sat in a restaurant and they just asked us questions. I, of course, being the nervous wreck that I am, let Tarynn do most of the talking. They asked us questions about the kids, why we were there, how we felt, how normal days went, etc.. Although we have a lot more work on our hands when groups come, it really is a great thing that they’re doing. I know I’ve been on short term mission trips before wondering if it makes a difference to these kids if I come or stay, but now I can see that it does. These kids get so excited about people coming and I think all kids deserve to have fun like that every so and so. Plus, it makes them feel loved and they definitely need that. The kids are still singing this one song that the group taught them. Actually we all sing it… all the time. I’m not sure if I want to thank them or not. It’s called Oh Mango Tree and every time I seem to get it out of my head, someone decides to sing it again. It never ends.