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| Fiorela and I (and Ariana peeking in the corner!) |
One of the bazillion things I am grateful for this year is working with kids - and by 'work' I mean playing games, painting pictures and eating snacks. My role in the comedor Compartiendo Un Sueño in City Bell has been different throughout the year - from observer to participant to helper - and I can confidently say that I shared my presence and immersed myself into the dynamic life of this institution that is almost a family. In the beginning I was a especially strange stranger and now I am a part the community.
Working with kids has reunited me with many characteristics of my childhood self - although, perhaps that is a bit of an overstatement as I don't believe ever truly parted with many attitudes of my girlhood. I still eat cookies and milk, buying the Okebon brand which includes Adventure Time stickers, watch cartoons and I recently read A Wrinkle in Time. Yet it is not just preferences that indicate a connection to childhood but also a childlike enthusiasm and appreciation of the world.
It is true that I am a person who tries to actively notice the daily beauties of the world. I find myself collecting autumn leaves and watching ants, feeling like a child (yet when I showed Ariana the ants, she didn't look with curiosity but began stomping on them). Maybe these things are a signifier of youth or perhaps they are what an adult is conditioned to see as childlike.
Interesting that we equate simplistic and ordinary to childlike. As though things that are part of daily life are not full of complexities and wonder. Our systems and societies are complicated, mature concepts while things of childhood are simple; as easy as riding a bike. Yet the wind in your hair, the steady rhythm of the wheels and your legs burning as you peddle faster and faster can provoke multilayered feelings of exhilaration, freedom and nostalgia not easily defined or understood.
Childhood curiosity is more than just noticing the world; it is actively engaging, trying to absorb and experience all that surrounds you. It is to my advantage that I am from another culture; it increases my fascination and wonder in everything around me and little is mundane. Knowing that my time here is limited, I have had increased motivation to explore and engage. I have been on many solo adventures, especially in recent months, both in La Plata and Buenos Aires. I am always safe in my physical surroundings but going places alone feels daring socially. Some days it is merely walking to a different supermarket farther away from my house yet as I walk I actively admire the buildings, nature and people I pass.
This year has also reconnected me to some characteristics of childhood that are uncomfortable and challenging; a sense of vulnerability and a lack of control.
I suppose all foreigners feel a bit like children when they try to create a life in new place. Struggling to express ourselves through words and understanding very little of daily life does take us back to when we were children, seeking to understand a world built by adults. In comparison to the people around me - especially in the beginning - I know very little, like a confused child (although they usually know more). We are dependent on others around us, frequently needing to ask for help and vulnerable in our lack of knowledge and capability. This is something United States culture is firmly against and I had to recognize this cultural belief within myself. It is still essential to remind myself that to be dependent is not weakness and vulnerability is a strength, not a problem or a flaw. It is not a bad thing to ask for help.
Yet the unpleasant feelings are sharp and vivid as well. When someone cancels plans or an event is rained-out it creates a dour mood that can last for days. While I can understand the reasons why with adult logic, it does not stop my emotional reactions which are often times more dramatic than I expect.
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| Missing the origami swan this sign hangs in CUS |
During my first weeks of attending the comedor, one specific decoration that grabbed my attention was a paper crane hanging from the ceiling with a sign above that said to express what we feel. At first it made me think of the pure honesty of children. Same as in English, there are countless ways to ask people how they are doing in Argentina and the standard, unthinking response is 'bien'. Only young children are open and willing to say that they are feeling terrible and the reasons why their day was bad.
Yet the more I learned of the families of the comedor and the poverty they live in, the more I understood that the children truly struggle with expressing and understanding their emotions. Many times when the young kids are being corrected and told not to do something, they will laugh; not because they find it funny but out of embarrassment. Pushing and shoving each other is much more likely than crying although both are reactions to hurt. Last week a teenage boy was heartbroken over his girlfriend breaking up with him; yet the only acceptable emotion is anger - never tears or sadness. I wonder how many of their defensive reactions are behaviors learned from others and if they truly understand what they are feeling.
And how much more is below the surface that I can not see or come anywhere close to comprehending? Even if I spoke perfectly I could never know how it feels to live a life lacking in the security of warm clothes or healthy meals. Furthermore, poverty typically involves many other problems such as substance abuse, violence in the home and mental health problems. People of all ages and backgrounds can struggle in understanding their emotions and expressing them in honest and healthy ways yet marginalized communities have further difficulties.
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| Pedro leading the drumming workshop. This group is made up primarily of the boys of the neighborhood which is wonderful as they typically do not attend the other workshops such as art or dance. In this safe, consistent space they do not cause problems in the street but instead express themselves through drumming. |
Without a doubt emotions are strange and mysterious. Sometimes I go to the park feel radiant with gratitude for the sunshine, the birds singing and the kids playing; other times I can feel wistful for my own childhood and once in a while I can feel a fierce longing for my friends and my family or something else seemingly unrelated. The situation can be the same yet the emotions invoked comes not from my mind but from my spirit, The Spirit, within me which I can not predict nor compel into behaving as I would like.
Fortunately, humans have always recognized art as essential to the spirit. Compartiendo Un Sueño has weekly painting, percussion, dance, cooking, and ceramics workshops to give the children spaces to express. The building itself has been painted by true artists such as Caro's colorful tree and owls and Raul's corn and mandala. The people who volunteer at the comedor are consistent, forming good relationships where conversations of all kinds are always encouraged. Yet it is also recognized that words are not the only way to express complex emotions.
Personally, I have rediscovered my love of creating art and music. I learned a little guitar in the beginning of the year (I had an excellent teacher but was a bad student), created over a dozen different ceramics and I am currently painting pictures for people before I end my program year. With others I am welcomed into participating in all forms of art, allowing me to communicate without words. From drawing pictures for the kids to color to singing during worship at church, I am given the space and tools to explore my emotions. Sometimes I do not exactly understand what I am feeling or why I feel a certain way, relating to the children I see daily. Yet, I do believe that my spirit is given the freedom to explore and express itself through the different mediums of art. The ability to create is a gift from God to connect to the emotions within ourselves and to connect to the hearts of others.
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| I enjoyed decorating and creating art for my bedroom |
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| Caro, Ale and Isa at the painting workshop |
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| Fiorela looking at the freshly painted CUS |
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| Lautaro and Luxor painting the mural |
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| Santi in ceramics |
