carnaval.. the end of the month of water balloons

Recently, life at Casa has been a lot more routine-y, with lots of work painting, painting, and re-painting everything yet again, (we've painted the front entrance door three times now, since no one can decide what color they really want it to be), preparing for the Bishop's visit and the celebration of the orphanage's 25th anniversary. This is will be pretty much a day-long party with a bunch of important priests, benefactors, and generally important people from the States and Lima this Wednesday. I've been teaching an English workshop to the kids three times a week for the past month, which has been SO much fun!! We just had our last class this past Friday, where I taught them how to play kickball while speaking only English--we had such a great time! My favorite part about playing any game outside here is that within minutes, it never fails that kids will start running from all directions to come play too. :)

So this morning, I had a pretty eye-opening experience as Jess and I visited another orphanage near us.. It really made me realize how different Casa Hogar is from the typical orphanage here--we use the Boys Town program, and the kids are all arranged in families, with at least 1 adult ("family teacher") per 8 kids. Although we are constantly in desperate need of money, donations, and supplies, the kids are happy, well-provided for, and are surrounded by loving staff. The orphanage we visited consists of a chapel and a giant, run-down building with peeling paint and stray, flea-covered dogs. It's home to over 120 children, who have about 1 staff member for maybe 30 kids, and no organization or teaching whatsoever. In mass I had to watch one boy pinch and hit the one next to him until he started sobbing. Eventually, I intervened since no one else did, but sadly this was the case with just about all the other kids in the chapel.. It was just hard to see that I've kind of been living in denial about the incredibleness that is Casa Hogar and neglecting to realize the reality that is most orphanages around here--way too many children that are taken off the streets but are still just as neglected, if not worse, in an institution with way too few staff members, too little organization, and so little financial support that they still have clothes full of holes and sores on their legs. Unlike our kids, they still have no idea what it's like to feel love, have someone in their lives that believes in them, or what it's like to be a part of a family. They have never had someone to teach them how to treat others with respect and kindness. It was unbelievably frustrating to feel so helpless, knowing how many children there are in our world who have no one they can depend on or to love them. Yuck. Moral of the story, any chance you ever get to help someone, no matter how trivial, it's worth it. And donate to Casa Hogar!! Kids need you!!

Okay. And on to more positive things, the past month (the last month of summer) has been Carnaval here. All day every Sunday, there's a live band that plays in the central plaza, and everyone goes there to watch & dance--this is one of my favorite things here, especially since any sound anywhere echos off all the cerros and sounds like it's right outside our windows. Carnaval also means that if you're walking anywhere in town outside the grounds of Casa, you're likely (especially on the weekends) to get hit with water balloons from anonymous children running around on rooftops. You're lucky if a)it's just one, and b)it's full of water, not paint. So today was the last day of Carnaval (unfortunately, because it's so hot here for a Minnesotan, and I can't get enough spontaneous water-ballooning from kids I don't know), and I discovered what Last Day of Carnaval means, at least in Lurín. We wandered into town in search of popsicles and butter, and happened upon a parade of soaking wet people covered in multi-colored streaks of paint, carrying buckets, and accompanied by a drum and 3 marching-band tubas. Last Day of Carnaval also means random parades and random explosions starting before 8am. (Random explosions are actually pretty normal here--now there's just a reason for them, and there's a lot more than normal). So it was really exciting, and if you know me, there's nothing I wanted more than to be involved in a wet, mud- and paint-soaked parade, but unfortunately I was too late. So I guess I'll just have to come back. Like next year. ;)