Another Smiling Face

Surprise, surprise- another good day in Guatemala!

I awoke this morning to Ray crawling back into bed after throwing up around 6:00am. It seems the incredible barbecue dinner we had a few nights ago, of which he observed that the chicken appeared a bit undercooked, did not sit too well with him. Miraculously, so far, I haven't showed any symptoms of what he's got. Anyone familiar with my apparent penchance for getting terribly ill and needing to go to the emergency room for a stomach virus about once a year will be relieved to know that I'm pretty sure I've dodged the bullet.

I showered, dressed, hopped in a tuk-tuk, and headed to the Nuestros Ahijados campus for the 8:00am morning meeting. As usual, my understanding of the meeting itself was incredibly limited. Most of the meeting attendees are Guatemalan, or long-term volunteers who speak extremely decent Spanish, so words are quick and jokes are thrown, and I catch about every forth word and feel damn proud of it! After the meeting, I met the other Casa Jackson volunteers at the entrance, where we wait each morning for an escort to the site, which is in an area that is not considered safe for a score of gringas to walk to independently.

I donned the compulsory mask and scrub top, Purell'ed my hands, and headed up to the third floor, where the babies are all housed. After a half hour sorting socks and laundry for the staff, I spoke with Rafa, the lovely volunteer from Spain with a strong interest in special needs, and decided I would start my day working with Sandra, whose history I am unaware of. Another little girl with cerebral palsy, Sandra is an absolute delight to be around. She's one of those children that is significantly impaired, but seems entirely unaware of her limitations and the concerns held for her. In the days I've been at Casa Jackson, I've never once heard her cry, moan, or complain.

Sandra greeted me with the easiest smile imaginable, and held it for almost the next three hours- and I really worked her hard! Like almost every child at the center, Sandra spends much of her day on her back. Volunteers take her out and hold her, but as she has poor head control, most keep her reclined even when she is out of her crib. Seeing how quick her little head was to drop to her chest, I anticipated at least a slight protest with some of my demands, but she kept that sweet little smile the entire time.

I laid her on my stomach, face down, and helped to prop her elbows beneath her chest. I sang the Spanish ABC's (seems to be a favorite with the little ones!) to her over and over and over, and she worked so hard to lift her head up from my chest and hold it there for a few second at a time before dropping it back down with a gentle thump right over my heart. We sat together, her "criss-cross applesauce" between my legs with her back against me for support and a pillow beneath her forearms to push up on, and again, she worked hard to keep that tiny little head up while I shook every noisy and musical toy I could find for her. I used my body as a make-shift stander, supporting her so that she could take some weight through her legs- her smile didn't break. I put her on her stomach in her crib and held her arms under her chest and her elbows in by her sides to make for a challenging tummy-time session- still smiles.

The most wonderful, exciting part was when I put a cloth over her face for peekaboo. Sandra does not yet use her hands functionally in any way; she suffers from significant tightness throughout her body and her upper arms are no exception. After a few rounds of peekaboo, I began bringing her hand up to the cloth on her face, helping her to grasp it, and waiting. At first, I wasn't sure if her hand moving down was a happy coincidence or her attempt to really participate in the game, but after a few tries, it was clear- she waited until I said "one, two, THREE!" each time, and then slowly, so slowly, pulled her arm down to remove the cloth from her face. Each time, as soon as one eye wa visible, she erupted into giggles. She looked so pleased with herself. After her mid-morning bottle, I laid her on her side and put a wet wipe in her hands. I brought it up to wipe her nose, and said, "Ahh, ahh, ahh, CHOO!" and pulled her hands down from her face. After a few minutes of this, I began to wait for her to initiate another round. Sure enough, those little hands moved, millimeter by millimeter, up to her nose; she mostly hit her mouth, but again, the gleeful grin and deep giggle left no doubt that she was doing it. She was playing. It was so heartwarming.

While I've got so much more to say about Sandra, the internet cafe is closing and it's time for me to return to Jocotengango and nurse Ray back to health with flat ginger ale. I took some photos and videos of Sandra and will have them up as soon as I'm able. In the meantime, content yourselves with the background photo of my blog, which is an older picture of Sandra from when she had recently arrived at Casa Jackson.

Again, thank you so much to those of you following along and interested in these sweet little kids I've got the privilege of snuggling :)