Perpetual godmotherhood and things that suck
It's been a busy and a bit of a rough week. In good news, I did a HIV workshop with all of the program staff yesterday. Myths and facts about HIV and AIDS. I think it went really well. They had a lot of questions and I got some good feedback after the talk. It's nice when things like that work out, hopefully it was useful.
On a different note, my growing herd (tribe? flock? pack? gaggle?) of godchildren has been somewhat of a joke here. One of my friends here is a few years older and keeps insisting that he's going to be my next one. And my friends laugh because whenever I hear "Madrina!" (godmother) on the streets I turn to respond. Gradually I've gotten much better about saying no, and it's been almost a year and a half with no new additions. When people ask, I just tell them that I already have seven and they're like...whoah, better ask someone else.
So, I thought I was going to make it through this trip without adding to the gaggle, but now I may end up with not one, not two, but three more by the time I go back to the States. Possibly bringing the grand total to 10, just one short of having my own soccer team.
"Michael" is 16 and has been in the project for a number of years. He's grown up in different foundations, bouncing from place to place, and has a hard time opening up to folks. He's also struggling with being gay in a culture that is very,very hostile to that. Not a lot of understanding from kids or adults here, the other kids tend to make fun of him because of his orientation, no matter how often we try to put the brakes on it, the teasing just gets subtler. He's really bright but whenever the teasing starts he tends to shut down and his grades go way down. We've been talking a lot lately and he's asked me to be his godmother. How do you say no to that?
"Toby" is 15 and used a hard-core street kid. He looks like he's about 11, and hasn't grown an inch in years. I knew him when he was really little and he was a holy terror. He kept trying to grope all the female volunteers, would show up high at the shelter, cursing up a storm. His family is extremely poor, except for his brother, who's a drug dealer. He was on the streets with his brother for years and everybody thought he'd grow up to be the same, but about 2 years ago he finally decided to stay in the shelter after years of bouncing in and out, and he's made an incredible change. He's been there ever since and his behavior has been improving steadily. He came with us on the last trip to Quito and we bonded. He's a fast talker and loves being the center of attention, I could totally see him growing up to be an actor or a politician. He's been bugging me for months to be his godmother and I kept giving him the standard excuse, but he's been really, really persistent. Still not sure what I'm going to do about him.
And finally, there's Davy, who I've written about before. His mom asked me to be his godmother 2 years ago, before either of them were diagnosed. I turned her down. She hasn't been able to find godparents and really wants to get him baptized, in part because his health is really touch and go. They won't baptize here without at least one godparent so it looks like I'm it. The thing is, this kid kind of hates me. I mean, he's only 4, but mostly when he's seen me it's been with his dad, who he can't stand, or when he's in the hospital full of needles getting nasty medicine poured down his throat. So he sees me and frowns and starts to pout, which makes me think I'm not the ideal godmother for him, but there isn't anybody else. Also making me reluctant is my own selfishness. He's really sick, and odds are he's not going to be around that much longer. I'm still adjusting one of my godkids' HIV diagnosis, and I know it's going to hurt like crazy if I let myself get attached, and then have to know he's dying and I can't do anything about it. So, I'm not completely sure what to do here either, but it means so much to his mom that I think I'm going to say yes.
Next, today's very special addition to the list of things that suck...congenital syphilis. On a related note, also sucky - dying babies. There comes a point where you go a bit numb, put this wall up. For me, that has meant not going to see this baby. I feel guilty about it. Her mom took off after she was born, dad's in prison, dad has no family, mom's family is messed up beyond imagining, and she's all alone with syphilis, meningitis, and possibly HIV. I don't think she even has a name. But she's in ICU and can't even be held, and another volunteer here has been checking in on her, so there's not much I could do. I know my limits better, and I know that I really can't handle watching a another child die right now. So I'm focused on getting word to the prison doctors and trying to convince babydaddy to get 3 extremely painful shots before syphilis starts eating away his brain. There's this amazing anthropologist, Nancy Scheper-Hughes, who has written a ton of stuff about Brazil and urban poverty. I have an academic crush on her. On of the things she writes about is how people understand and interpret infant death in shantytowns. She does a great job explaining it, but I still didn't really understand that point of view until I started to see elements of it in myself. I don't like it, but it's kind of a survival mechanism, and I've yet to find something else that works.
And, still more bad news. Last weekend was a national holiday for May Day, and some of the kids went swimming at a river. When it was time for lunch, they realized that one kid was missing. He was new, had only been at the shelter for 2 weeks, and nobody could figure out whether he just wandered off or had drowned. They notified the police, who sent divers, and they'd been searching for him all week with no sign.
Today they found his body. One of my friends had to go identify him. He was one of my English students. Like I said, he was new and I didn't know him very well, but still...it's just really sad. And freaky. So tomorrow and Monday I'm going into the shelter where he was to do some grief work with the kids together with the full-time psychologist. Just a rough week all around.
Finally, random sharing of the day - I got stung by a giant hornet yesterday. Or maybe a wasp. Not sure how to tell the difference in Spanish. This thing was HUGE. Only the second time I've ever gotten stung by anything, and I feel rather petty whining about this with so much other stuff going on, but...it hurts like crazy. My right arm, from my wrist halfway to my elbow, is a giant red welt that's puffy and burning and itchy. And that's after my benadryl-popping has brought the swelling down. Probably isn't helping my mood today.
On a different note, my growing herd (tribe? flock? pack? gaggle?) of godchildren has been somewhat of a joke here. One of my friends here is a few years older and keeps insisting that he's going to be my next one. And my friends laugh because whenever I hear "Madrina!" (godmother) on the streets I turn to respond. Gradually I've gotten much better about saying no, and it's been almost a year and a half with no new additions. When people ask, I just tell them that I already have seven and they're like...whoah, better ask someone else.
So, I thought I was going to make it through this trip without adding to the gaggle, but now I may end up with not one, not two, but three more by the time I go back to the States. Possibly bringing the grand total to 10, just one short of having my own soccer team.
"Michael" is 16 and has been in the project for a number of years. He's grown up in different foundations, bouncing from place to place, and has a hard time opening up to folks. He's also struggling with being gay in a culture that is very,very hostile to that. Not a lot of understanding from kids or adults here, the other kids tend to make fun of him because of his orientation, no matter how often we try to put the brakes on it, the teasing just gets subtler. He's really bright but whenever the teasing starts he tends to shut down and his grades go way down. We've been talking a lot lately and he's asked me to be his godmother. How do you say no to that?
"Toby" is 15 and used a hard-core street kid. He looks like he's about 11, and hasn't grown an inch in years. I knew him when he was really little and he was a holy terror. He kept trying to grope all the female volunteers, would show up high at the shelter, cursing up a storm. His family is extremely poor, except for his brother, who's a drug dealer. He was on the streets with his brother for years and everybody thought he'd grow up to be the same, but about 2 years ago he finally decided to stay in the shelter after years of bouncing in and out, and he's made an incredible change. He's been there ever since and his behavior has been improving steadily. He came with us on the last trip to Quito and we bonded. He's a fast talker and loves being the center of attention, I could totally see him growing up to be an actor or a politician. He's been bugging me for months to be his godmother and I kept giving him the standard excuse, but he's been really, really persistent. Still not sure what I'm going to do about him.
And finally, there's Davy, who I've written about before. His mom asked me to be his godmother 2 years ago, before either of them were diagnosed. I turned her down. She hasn't been able to find godparents and really wants to get him baptized, in part because his health is really touch and go. They won't baptize here without at least one godparent so it looks like I'm it. The thing is, this kid kind of hates me. I mean, he's only 4, but mostly when he's seen me it's been with his dad, who he can't stand, or when he's in the hospital full of needles getting nasty medicine poured down his throat. So he sees me and frowns and starts to pout, which makes me think I'm not the ideal godmother for him, but there isn't anybody else. Also making me reluctant is my own selfishness. He's really sick, and odds are he's not going to be around that much longer. I'm still adjusting one of my godkids' HIV diagnosis, and I know it's going to hurt like crazy if I let myself get attached, and then have to know he's dying and I can't do anything about it. So, I'm not completely sure what to do here either, but it means so much to his mom that I think I'm going to say yes.
Next, today's very special addition to the list of things that suck...congenital syphilis. On a related note, also sucky - dying babies. There comes a point where you go a bit numb, put this wall up. For me, that has meant not going to see this baby. I feel guilty about it. Her mom took off after she was born, dad's in prison, dad has no family, mom's family is messed up beyond imagining, and she's all alone with syphilis, meningitis, and possibly HIV. I don't think she even has a name. But she's in ICU and can't even be held, and another volunteer here has been checking in on her, so there's not much I could do. I know my limits better, and I know that I really can't handle watching a another child die right now. So I'm focused on getting word to the prison doctors and trying to convince babydaddy to get 3 extremely painful shots before syphilis starts eating away his brain. There's this amazing anthropologist, Nancy Scheper-Hughes, who has written a ton of stuff about Brazil and urban poverty. I have an academic crush on her. On of the things she writes about is how people understand and interpret infant death in shantytowns. She does a great job explaining it, but I still didn't really understand that point of view until I started to see elements of it in myself. I don't like it, but it's kind of a survival mechanism, and I've yet to find something else that works.
And, still more bad news. Last weekend was a national holiday for May Day, and some of the kids went swimming at a river. When it was time for lunch, they realized that one kid was missing. He was new, had only been at the shelter for 2 weeks, and nobody could figure out whether he just wandered off or had drowned. They notified the police, who sent divers, and they'd been searching for him all week with no sign.
Today they found his body. One of my friends had to go identify him. He was one of my English students. Like I said, he was new and I didn't know him very well, but still...it's just really sad. And freaky. So tomorrow and Monday I'm going into the shelter where he was to do some grief work with the kids together with the full-time psychologist. Just a rough week all around.
Finally, random sharing of the day - I got stung by a giant hornet yesterday. Or maybe a wasp. Not sure how to tell the difference in Spanish. This thing was HUGE. Only the second time I've ever gotten stung by anything, and I feel rather petty whining about this with so much other stuff going on, but...it hurts like crazy. My right arm, from my wrist halfway to my elbow, is a giant red welt that's puffy and burning and itchy. And that's after my benadryl-popping has brought the swelling down. Probably isn't helping my mood today.