one-hundred

As of today, I have 100 days left in El Salvador. Such a number causes me to stop and think--it's small enough to give me pause, signalling the beginning of the end, yet large enough to give me time for things I have kept putting off. I'm looking eagerly toward my trip home, yet striving to make every day here count, struggling with how that translates into practical living. The first strain of the melancholy tugged at me today as I sat in the Kindergarten room and the words of a song by Something Corporate came to mind: "Soon I'll be leaving you, but you won't be leaving me." In seeing the things I see now and in doing the things I do, I know that in the future I'll look back and remember it all, wondering where the time went and what each of the kids ended up doing with their lives.

This past week, my roommate's fiancé came for a visit and I ended up filling in for her, looking after the kids in Reception House, for four days. It was quite the experience. The first day was a breeze, and I enjoyed playing with the 3-6 year-olds on the playground. A few tears were shed over a scrape or two, but none of them were serious injuries and they stopped crying after a few seconds of special attention and comforting. The second day was kinda bad, but only because the older girls that came to play with the kids were a bit annoying. The third day was the worst. The parents were on their afternoon off and the regular Tia wasn't anywhere in sight, so the substitute Tia, Christina (another SM), and I had to chase the kids down and drag them to their rooms for nap time. I took charge over the five girls as Christina stood at the end of the hall to keep watch over the boys and catch any run-aways. The girls staged a mass rebellion, running around in their underwear (or less), trying to take a shower when they weren't supposed to as the little boys tried to watch. Two of the boys managed to get into the girls' room and hide under the beds as the girls were supposed to be getting dressed. One girl, Bea, threw shoes at me and later slapped me in the mouth. She received some extra discipline and by 2:30, all of the girls were in their beds except for Bea. She didn't get into her bed until 3:10 or 3:20, when all of the other girls were asleep. But as I was disciplining Bea shortly before she went to bed, I suddenly realized that I wasn't tired. I wasn't emotionally drained like I have been in the past while dealing with rebellious children. I was proud of myself and happy that I'd found what I considered to be the mind-set of a parent. The fourth day in Reception was somewhere in the middle--not all peachy, but a far cry from the day before. That day I was also blessed with a visit from Tommy Stuart and his wife, Jennifer, as I was finishing up my time at Reception. As some of you may know, Tommy was a Student Missionary here a few years back. It was nice to talk to him about his experiences, even if it was only for about 12 minutes. Too soon I had to leave to go to a meeting, but the Stuarts' visit definitely made my day.

the only constant

I heard it once said that the only constant in life is Change. I have seen this proved true again and again, and being in El Salvador is no different:

Last Tuesday two new missionaries joined our ranks: Jason and Kenny from Canada. Kenny is from El Salvadoran descent and can speak Spanish fluently (or so I've heard. I haven't actually seen him in action). Jason is just about as white as they come. The kids were making fun of him a bit the first day, saying that he looked a bit like an albino. Poor guy. No, he's not albino, he's just really white. So Kenny and Jason have been eating in our house when they feel like it and using a Shop Vac to rid the ceilings of certain houses of bat guano. Such a glorious job.

On my way home from the pool on Sunday, Gabby, the daughter of House 3's house parents, told me that their family was leaving on Wednesday (that would be today). Apparently, her father is going to go live with relatives in the United States and work hard to send money back to his family, and in time he hopes to earn enough so that they can own their own land here in El Salvador. Who knows how long that will take, and meanwhile, he'll be leaving behind his three children (a girl and two boys, ranging in age from 3-11) as well as a house full of boys of all ages. I really hate to see them go. In my opinion, they were one of the best, if not the best set of house parents we had. Plus, Derek, their little three-year-old had just started talking to me and calling me by name. He's such a sweetie! However, on Monday most of House 3 came down with some sickness, possibly related to food they had eaten the night before. The house father was one of the ones to get it, and now he can't go anywhere since he's sick. I think it'll clear up in a day or two, and then he can continue on with his plan, but for now they're still here.

My morning job helping Maestra Sandra has proved to be a little bit more involved than I had first anticipated. Instead of having half of the morning off, during which I "watch the books" in the library, I work with the kids all morning. I help prepare homework and crafts for the kids as well as help them with the challenges of gluing pieces of paper inside of a circle or other such Kindergarten tasks.

We have just become an independant church group. We now meet in our own multi-uso building (like a gym) instead of the one in the ECAS elementary school. We have hired our own chaplain and we will now have worship during the week on Sunday and Wednesday nights instead of Tuesday and Thursday nights.

I have found a certain comfort in climbing trees. I never climbed that many trees when I was young, probably because of the shortage of good climbing trees in my area, so I am now making up for it. Whenever I feel like some time by myself, I just find a tree and climb it. The trees we have here are great--easy to get into with lots of room to sit in the branches without anybody seeing that you're there. I love it. If the kids see me start to climb, they call me a "caballon," meaning "big horse." Basically, I'm still a child at heart, and they just can't understand why I would want to be that way.

...but some things still remain the same:

When my turn comes around to accompany the kids on their Sabbath afternoon outreach project, I cringe. Our goal is to deliver food and cheer to the same five poor families that we helped at Christmas time, but each time we go, my group ends up in somebody else's house, and I'm not sure that they appreciate it all that much. No matter how hard I try to be prepared and have things to do for the kids in the house, we always end up with lots of blank silence, the mother appearing bored and I feeling guilty for my wealth. I feel almost as though our presence is saying, "Look at us! We're so good we brought you food. Now be thankful!" and I just hate it. I wish we could either just visit some shut-ins to give them company or give our food to the poor as anonymously as possible.

I still love Anne of Green Gables. I watched it for the first time in ages last night with a bunch of other SMs. It was good, and it reminded me of the time Breezy and I dressed up as Diana Berry and Anne Shirley for a Skate Night at school, but nobody could tell who we were supposed to be.