A Life of Hard-Knocks

On the two occasions I've spent my Saturdays volunteering, I couldn't get enough of the kids. They're so friendly, grateful for any attention you can give them, and just so darn cute! So I went to Eliza, the volunteer director at my school, and asked her for a regular Saturday volunteer position. I figured my little weekend jaunts have pretty much dried up, I've been to the Amazon, the Inca Trail, Bolivia, and almost every Inca Ruin around, so I may as well do something super productive with my Saturdays.

The volunteers who are working here for a few months generally don't want to work on the weekends, since they want to travel, so it was no problem to find an orphanage that was excited to have me on Saturday. I arrived in the middle of cleaning day, half disappointed the girls weren't heartily singing "It's a Hard-Knock Life" while performing a choreographed dance routine. I was given a quick tour, then told to do whatever I wanted. There was a group of girls in the back doing the laundry by hand, (and doing a way more thorough job than I ever do). I chatted with them for a few minutes, then went inside to see what was going on. Brenda, who's about 9 years old, gave me a hug as soon as I walked in the door. She was cleaning the floor by skating around on an old sweater. I helped by sweeping for a bit, then had Brenda sit on the sweater and dragged her around. Of course, she loved it, and kept requesting that I pull her "mas rapido!" Soon I had a line of kids wanting a ride on the old sweater. I was working up quite a sweat running around. (And some of the girls were bigger than others. That was rough.)

Then one of the girls I quickly labeled The Bossy One (there was a Bossy One in Annie, right?) demanded that we color. She even told me what colors to use. When I asked where the black colored pencil was, she pulled it out of Brenda's hand in mid-use. When she got tired of coloring, she literally closed the book on our hands and presented us with a puzzle to do.

I see-sawed for the first time since I was 5 years old (and if you're looking for a good way to tone up your legs, go to a playground, get on a see-saw, and do all the work yourself. I'm still sore). I bruised my hips going down a slide built for little girls with no hips. I got kicked in the head (an accident). One girl threw a rock at another. I smoothed things out as well as I could in Spanish. But I also gave and received an awful lot of hugs. Several girls just crawled right in my lap. They read books to me. Several of them pouted when I left. Must be rough growing up in an orphanage, when everyone eventually leaves you. I wondered if I was doing more damage than good, but I did promise them I would be back next week.