El Salvador, Day 4 – CIPI (and a great dinner!)
Posted by KimFeb 11
I was back at CIPI today but in a different area. (CIPI is made up of a cluster of buildings that house different age groups or stage-groups.) The morning started with the infants – and the teen mothers of a bunch of them. For sure, the most surreal part of my day was a conversation I had with an 11 year old girl while she nursed her 2 month old baby!
The babies are housed mainly in one room, with an adjoining room for the moms. I think about half of the babies I saw today were abandoned babies who had been sent their straight from the hospital. The rest belonged to the older girls.
And since I had the point of reference, I couldn’t help but compare these kids’ circumstances to the ones I saw at Vinculo de Amor, yesterday. Yesterday’s kids each had their own crib, and there were no more than four kids in any one room. They were constantly being changed because each staff member was assigned no more than 4 babies. The gal today had at least 12 babies all on her own (not including the ones being toted around by their pre-teen and teen moms), and forget separate cribs:
Twice today I just went in a line around the room and changed diapers because everyone was wet, and the “Tia” was busy prepping bottles, washing the cloth diapers and clothing or whatever else. She was changing them, too, as she got to them, but it’s clear that a lot of them will sit in a wet or messy diaper for longer than my friends at home with infants ever allow.
Also notice where I blocked out the names in the photo above. Two names, three babies. The wall signs are how they keep them straight, but clearly that system doesn’t work out perfectly either because somebody tucked an extra in here!
But actually, the “Tia” really did have things under control for the most part in this room, and a very outgoing 9 year old girl (who assured me that she didn’t have a baby!) kidnapped me to come play. And so I was brought into the world of the 2-7 year olds (plus my eager friend who wasn’t really supposed to be with that group, but the Tia let her stay anyway).
And I learned that being 2-7 years old at CIPI and not being set apart as “special needs” is a whole lot nicer than being “special needs.” They have a big play room, an art room, an outside courtyard with tricycles, scooters and play cars to ride around in, a small playground area, and basically just a day full of playtime. I took far-away shots today, so I could include them without making the kids easily identifiable.
Most of the toys looked hand-me-downs from the U.S., so it’s not like it was really nice stuff or anything. And again – no grass! But when I thought back to the other day in the other wing with the 3 plastic balls and really no other toys to speak of, it baffled my mind a bit. Why don’t the special needs kids get some toys?! I’m hoping to work up the nerve to ask tomorrow, because Kurt and I dropped off 4 bags of toys this morning, and they wouldn’t let me distribute them. I don’t want to give the Tias over in that wing any more clean-up work to do, but some of those boys and girls would love to play with toys, not to mention the benefit to stimulating their brains.
It’s hard to shed the “North American” mindset, being here. What I think is “common sense” or whatever is truly different than the way decisions are made in El Salvador. I get that, but it’s still hard to shift.
But over all, it was a good day. The Tia of the young kids was very, very good with them and friendly to me (I really appreciate that here, because it’s pretty uncomfortable to be dropped off alone in a foreign setting with no other English speakers, I have to say!). The kids themselves were, of course, precious and fun to play with. And since this group is the age-range we’re likely to receive in our adoption it was especially affirming to me that while I could see the signs of institutionalization creeping in, it was still fairly easy for me to see the little people behind the behaviors. A good reminder that aside from love (what they all need foremost), kids from these places who get adopted or even assigned to foster homes need training on how to live in a family. They have no idea that people expect manners, that there could be house rules, that it’s not ok to just take what you want out of the hands of another person, that biting or hitting are not acceptable ways to express frustration when someone slights you. They truly don’t know. That being said, they do play pretty well together and around each other.
Other stand-out memories from the day:
- None of the kids knew the alphabet. The 9 year old read to me out of a book, but she didn’t know the order of the letters for a puzzle we were doing. I ended up doing that puzzle 8 or 9 times through the course of the day with different kids.
- There was a pair of twin girls there who reminded me of what my boys were like at their age. They held hands everywhere they went. The Tia told me their names but that she couldn’t tell them apart, so she just always referred to them as “Gemelas” (Twins) whenever she wanted both of them, or “Gemela” when she was only talking to one.
- One of the bigger boys chattered constantly all day. He talked to the Tia, he talked to me, he talked to the other older kids. When he was playing all by himself, he sang little songs. He was probably the most well-adjusted one of the group, and I think it’s partly because he feels like he’s getting to express himself. So cute.
The other highlight of my day was that the whole Ackermann family and the Snyder family – full time missionaries down here – came over to the house where we’re staying and grilled out. So nice to talk to other U.S. folks! And they’re all quite open about the realities of choosing to serve full-time in a foreign country. It was refreshing to hear real, honest stories about how they have (or haven’t) adjusted to leaving “home” to make a new one here. It was not your typical “church missions week” kind of “success story” stuff, but it was truth, and it was good to get to hear!
Well, this post is long enough. More tomorrow… Thanks for your comments and prayers!
7 comments
Comment by Aimee on February 12, 2010 at 7:10 am
Wow….these are amazing posts. I can’t wait to talk to you at some point when you get back. It must be so hard to see those little sweethearts and have to leave them each day.
Comment by kathryn on February 12, 2010 at 2:11 pm
I am so glad you have gotten to be with the children and not just paint, etc..like you thought. I love hearing the stories and seeing the pics. BTW- It was sunny all day today here. Do you have a tan yet?
Take care!
Comment by Tio Chris on February 12, 2010 at 2:54 pm
It’s so easy to just look at these pictures and assume this is just a school or a public day-care or playground. When you put together the notion that these children will not go home to a “family” at the end of the day where they are loved and enjoyed more individually, it really makes me sad. I keep looking at the picture with the little girl in the beautiful white dress. She’s in a play yard, on a toy, looking like a little princess, but even though you can’t really make out her face (on purpose of course), you just have the sense that her eyes may be a little lost and sad.
I guess this is my own “North American” mentality creeping in here… but, do you know how often these children get any kind of one-on-one attention / affirmation from adults as compared to the “special needs” children? Do non-special-children get less attention?
And yet, praise God that they have a place like this to live at all! I guess I shouldn’t forget that – but it just breaks my heart to know there are little ones out there all over the world being “institutionalized” without even knowing any other way. And even worse, there are others out there who don’t even get a chance to have even this kind of environment. Sigh.
Comment by Tio Chris on February 12, 2010 at 2:56 pm
Ooops, just wanted to clarify my question, I didn’t mean to type “non-special-children” – that should say “non-special-needs-children”. Obviously they are all special children…
Comment by Kim on February 12, 2010 at 4:43 pm
@Kathryn – me? tan? never… I may have a little pinkness when I get back home, but then again, that may fade just during the flying time.
@Chris – that little girl is one of the “Gemelas” and she did periodically just cry for no apparent reason. Today I got to play with them some more and she was all smiles and running around. So I’m sure with her, and with all of them, they have their lonely moments and then they have their good ones.
They DON’T really get one-on-one time ever with an adult. There’s never a time when the “Tia” present doesn’t also have a dozen other kids to watch. She does TALK to them individually during the day, but that’s one of the things that get institutionalized kids institutionalized. They adapt to this environment and learn how to work within the system, but it doesn’t meet their need for parents… although they DO act like siblings quite a bit.
Some of them DO have families “on the outside” who either can’t take care of them or were abusing them. So some of them will be reunited with them. Others won’t. Very, very, very few get adopted because there isn’t an efficient system for it, and El Salvador is very reticent about adoption, as a culture. I think if the folks working in the system saw successful families, they’d be more proactive. But the fact is, most families get their kids and never come back.
Comment by Kim on February 12, 2010 at 4:44 pm
Oh, and @Aimee – call me when I get back – lots to say!
Comment by Lisa Courtney on February 12, 2010 at 7:17 pm
Kim,
I was talking to one of my co-workers, telling her what you were doing in El Salvador. She was really interested. So I gave her your blog address and she logged on. Just glancing though quickly, she was amazed. I’m sure when she had a chance to really sit and read, so would. Just seeing the pictures of the children, just makes you want to reach through the computer and grab the to hold and play with. I’m sure you’re leaving a tiny impression on each of the children you have interacted with. Take care. Can’t wait to hear the stories and see pictures when you get back.