Yesterday was possibly, the most productive day of my life. Maybe not my whole life, but certainly my Chile life. That's a lie, too. It was just a very very productive day, and I tend to exaggerate.
The new people are coming. In fact, some of them have arrived. We picked up our first at the airport in the morning, and installed him happily in the hostel. He had a book of spanish phrases he thought he might use, and I appreciated his effort (as did our Peruvian friend and driver). He was so excited. It was contagious.
New people means lots of communication. It seems like everyone needs to know which volunteer is going where (and why). And yet, even though Liz lead a great meeting on Thursday, only six institutions were represented. Sometimes the lack of effort is very discouraging.
Yet Liz and I decided that we should meet, personally, with as many institutions as humanly possible before the newbies arrived for their first day of work, timid and frightened and silent. The key to everything about intensive volunteer work is making expectations clear from the start. And talking.
We started in La Florida. I never appreciated the comuna when I lived there, how clean and suburban it is, its greenery. The neighborhood around the hogar we visited is particularly lovely, close to the mountains and full of talking babies. The fact that is was a perfect spring day only compounded my overwhelming feeling of joy and being around the kids.
After baby-time, we went to my institution. As it was after class time, and the atmosphere was a bit different. With no kids, and the sun going down, I felt like a kid in trouble sitting in the directora's office, and even though I explained that she will be getting 2 new full time and one part time volunteer, she didn't seem thrilled to see me. We needed a baby to come waddling in to lighten the mood; I maybe should have brought one with me from LaFlorida.
Leaving the school, still in LaFlorida, we walked towards Los Navíos, one of the toughest neighborhoods in Santiago. We should not have been walking, and with each passing block my happy world of La Florida, where I worked every day for months, became less familiar and more ominous. When I'm walking alone, I always assume I draw attention for being American and ignore it. With Liz by my side, I am reminded that my hair doubles and triples the stares and catcalls, as tells me that she can walk around alone without much hassle.
Thankfully, a taxi.
The lovely trees disappeared as we cruised down Bahia Catalina. The streets became more beaten down, with more potholes and roaming dogs. We arrived at the community center as it turned dark, the taxi driver concerned that he was leaving us in a place like this. "Are you sure you want to get out here?" he asks. "Yes," we reply, for what seems like the millionth time in the past year. "This is where we work."
The new people are coming. In fact, some of them have arrived. We picked up our first at the airport in the morning, and installed him happily in the hostel. He had a book of spanish phrases he thought he might use, and I appreciated his effort (as did our Peruvian friend and driver). He was so excited. It was contagious.
New people means lots of communication. It seems like everyone needs to know which volunteer is going where (and why). And yet, even though Liz lead a great meeting on Thursday, only six institutions were represented. Sometimes the lack of effort is very discouraging.
Yet Liz and I decided that we should meet, personally, with as many institutions as humanly possible before the newbies arrived for their first day of work, timid and frightened and silent. The key to everything about intensive volunteer work is making expectations clear from the start. And talking.
We started in La Florida. I never appreciated the comuna when I lived there, how clean and suburban it is, its greenery. The neighborhood around the hogar we visited is particularly lovely, close to the mountains and full of talking babies. The fact that is was a perfect spring day only compounded my overwhelming feeling of joy and being around the kids.
After baby-time, we went to my institution. As it was after class time, and the atmosphere was a bit different. With no kids, and the sun going down, I felt like a kid in trouble sitting in the directora's office, and even though I explained that she will be getting 2 new full time and one part time volunteer, she didn't seem thrilled to see me. We needed a baby to come waddling in to lighten the mood; I maybe should have brought one with me from LaFlorida.
Leaving the school, still in LaFlorida, we walked towards Los Navíos, one of the toughest neighborhoods in Santiago. We should not have been walking, and with each passing block my happy world of La Florida, where I worked every day for months, became less familiar and more ominous. When I'm walking alone, I always assume I draw attention for being American and ignore it. With Liz by my side, I am reminded that my hair doubles and triples the stares and catcalls, as tells me that she can walk around alone without much hassle.
Thankfully, a taxi.
The lovely trees disappeared as we cruised down Bahia Catalina. The streets became more beaten down, with more potholes and roaming dogs. We arrived at the community center as it turned dark, the taxi driver concerned that he was leaving us in a place like this. "Are you sure you want to get out here?" he asks. "Yes," we reply, for what seems like the millionth time in the past year. "This is where we work."
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Hi greetings to Chile from County Kerry in Ireland I recently posted a Chilean themed item on my blog
http://unrepentantcommunist.blogspot.com/
I hope that some of you will drop by and say hello.
Greetings to all Chilean friends from Ireland
Gabriel.
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