Day 6, I think.

ALLALALALALALLALALALA.
LALALLALALALA
I LOVE BLOGGGINNNGGGG

I really hate when people read over my shoulder, it makes every word I write seem more judged or something. Thus, the beginning of this post. =]

Uh. Yesterday, I went back to Zaragosa, and it was lovely. Everyone in the group went with me, because there is some sort of sickness in Las Delisias, and Miguel had to take one of the local kids to get something done with his heart.
It was interesting to have everyone there--it was like one giant family reunion, as one of the other girls said. It was also saturday, so none of the kids had school, so we had all of the kids, all of the time. Usually we have one group in the morning, but then they go off to school, we get a break, and then there is another group.
We started the day by bailing out all of the water that had collected because of the rain. I helped three or four little boys scoop up the water from what is going to eventually be an office area in the Guardaria. It was touching/memorable/lots of other emotional adjectives  to unite with those boys for one singular cause.

After the water bailing, however, I decided not to deal with hard labor and such, and spent the rest of the day with the kids.

I was working the origami station, and I was helping the kids make little origami houses. We made them and colored them, and then I got bored of sitting still. I then helped out with coloring, and making more God’s eyes, and making yarn bracelets. The little kids also started to make cootie catchers, and were running around telling my future--I was bella y mala y bien  and about 3423423 other things

There were three things/stories that stuck in my head. Its been at leas 24 hours now, and I am sure I have already forgotten things, but here I go.

1. After I went back to the origami table, I started making paper balls (or water bombs, as Kat calls them). The kids were interested, but there was one girl, who was probably 16ish, who was fascinated. Sadly I have already forgotten her name, but I do remember the look of joy when she was able to understand how to make the ball.  I then learned that she knew rudimentary English, and we were able to exchange a few pleasantries.
2.  There was one girl, Sofia, who became attached to me. On other days, I had been slightly jealous of the girls (and boys) who were able make the little kids like them instantly, but Sofia made up for my jealousy. She made me pictures and I made her bracelets, and I helped her play bingo and she helped me remember people names. I saw a lot of my self in her--she was shy, creative, and intelligent, just like six-year-old me. It was really sad to hold her, and think about everything I have, and all the opportunities I have, and just wishing I could give her some of my life. A nice home, and family that love and supports me, and a future free of rape and abuse, and an opportunity to educate and advance myself. I almost started crying.
3. While we were working, Kari’s mother came to me and asked if I was interested in seeing the “shoe lady.” This women works every day, for the majority of her day making shoes for a major american shoe company. She stitches pieces of leather together with a painstaking carefulness--making the bases for moccasins and loafers and clogs. Apparently, she earns 25 cents for every pair of $50 shoes that she makes.  From now on, whenever I hold a pair of shoes, I will think of that women, surrounded in squalor, watching three small children, sewing together perfect pairs of shoes.
4. In the afternoon, we had to leave early again, because it was raining. Surprise, surprise.  We waited for it to calm down, but as soon as we left the protection of a roof, it starting pouring again. As I was walking up the hill to the car, a little boy, Kevin, came up to me put his arm around my waist, and walked me up the hill. We were laughing and joking, and then he turned to me and says, “Como se dice lluve en espanol?”. I told him, “Rain.” He repeated it back to me, and In that moment I realized that these children have 90,000 times more drive and want to be educated than most people at home. It make it even sadder, that most of them are destined for a life of farming, or shoe making or something along those lines.
5. As I was walking up the hill, one of the older boys (like 14ish?) came up behind me, and handed me an umbrella. It was so sweet,and so kind, I can’t really explain how happy it made me.

I am sure other things happened, but all I remember is hanging out in the evening, sharing stories and secrets with the other girls. We sort of have become a family; it is going to be really hard leaving

Sofia