"Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap, but by the seeds you plant."

Every day in Nicaragua, we had amazing "harvests". Each hug, each smile, each laugh, each correctly pronounced word, was an amazing victory. While these may be looked at as things we had harvested, these moments are also seeds. Seeds to know that there are people in the world that care about and love them. Seeds to aspire to know more, to learn more. Seeds to continue going to school every day with a smile. The things we did, and the things we saw will not only result in something great for the kids, but for us. After this experience, my want to do service work has increased even more than I thought possible.

I can honestly say that I am proud of what we did, the people I worked with (both students and volunteers), and I am proud to be a part of Children's Global Alliance. Not only have I grown as a person, but I have grown closer to the people I worked with. In only a week, we created unbreakable bonds with strangers, and with each other.

The minute I stepped off the plane, the culture shock began to set in. Driving miles and miles without seeing any dilapidated shacks, the lack of heat and humidity, and not waking up at 6:30am shook me. All the little things that I grew used to in Nicaragua, became little necessities here. When I got home I took my watch off (we were required to wear our watches every day on the trip), and within five minutes I had put it back on because I wasn't used to having to look for a clock rather than just lookig at my wrist. Before going to bed, I was frustrated because I couldn't find my bug spray, then remembered that I didn't need to put it on before bed anymore.

I want to thank everyone for supporting my trip, with money or with a simple "good luck", every thing helped tremendously. And I hope that everyone follows CGA through all of their journeys, because every encouragement, and every person to cheer you on, helps.

"Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap, but by the seeds you plant." -Robert Louis Stevenson 

"To change one's life, start immediately, do it flamboyantly, no exceptions."

(This is Wednesday's blog, for some reason it did not post, so I am doing it now. Sorry.)

Morgan shook me awake this morning, saying it was 6:40 (our alarm is set for 6:30). I jumped out of bed, threw my stuff on, and inhaled my breakfast. We reached the school before the kids, and were able to give good morning hugs. Zulema held my hand as she walked to class, calling me "mama." I had no specific class today, so I was to help contain the kids who were wandering and help anywhere I was needed.

I walked around the school with a little boy named Jose Daniel. He clung to my hand and guided me to a bench near the back of the school. I tried to talk to him, but he would not respond. Every now and then, he would look at me for a while, then smile and laughed. He continued to do this until he decided to smack me in the throat. I told him not to do that and, angry with me for telling him what to do, stormed off. I caught up to him in a minute, in which time he must have forgiven me, because he grabbed my hand once more. We walked together through the school's field of banana trees until we reached a fence. On the other side was another school, where children would occasionally come up to me and try and tell me something (I had no idea what they were saying). After about fifteen minutes of walking up and down the fence, Jose Daniel asked me to pick him up and bring him back to the school. Shortly after out little endeavor, I went to Yahoska's classroom, where I worked with Zulema until lunch.

During lunch, I sat with a student named Diana, and two deaf students named Tania and Rosa. We talked and signed with each other until the bell rang and I followed Diana to Auxilladory's arts and crafts class room. While her friends took countless pictures with my camera, Diana told me that she was going to learn English. So I taught her a few words like "house," "apple," and "cat." Though simple, Diana was extremely excited to learn these new English words. With only about thirty minutes left of school, I went to Norah's classroom next door to work with Darwin, who has cerebral palsy. We started by putting little plastic bears in cups, but when he did this flawlessly, we moved on to math. All too soon the bell rang and I wheeled Darwin out to the bus.

Education is one of the number one things I take for granted. While I pray for at least one snow day, these kids come to school smiling, ready to take in as much knowledge as they can. I'll never forget Diana's expression when I offered to teach her English. Our time with the students may almost be over, but it's never too late to change someone's life.

"To change one's life, start immediately, do it flamboyantly, no exceptions." - William James

"Don't worry about the future, the present is all thou hast, the future will soon be present, and the present will soon be past."

Once again, I don't know where to begin. We woke up at 5:30am, so we could pack the bus full of all the bags for the kids and the families. It took a while, and we ended up getting to the school after the kids, but we managed to pack every bag in decent time. When we got to the school, we moved all the bags to the physical therapy room, and all the food to the kitchen. Today I was supposed to go on home visits with Harry and Ansley, but considering that all the families would already be at the school, we stayed.

Our day started off with the best game of kick ball I have ever played. We played with all the students from the deaf classrooms (AJ and Ansley were the captains,) and played until we would have to go inside. At first I was playing pretty badly, but after a while, I managed to play at a more moderate level. While I was waiting in line to kick, Zulema ran up to me, tears streaming down her face. Apparently Astrid had pulled her hair. I wrapped Zulema in my arms and she stood there crying into my dress for about five minutes, but her tears soon dried. Eventually everyone was called in, and because I was not on the home visits or in an assigned classroom, I floated from classroom to classroom. I would walk by one of the deaf classrooms, and one of the students woud make a noise to get my attention. In Auxilladory's class, the girls were tying balloons together as decorations for the party. I helped stuff them all into four garbage bags, and then began to stick them to the walls in the cafeteria. We hung balloons, streamers, and signs, completely transforming the cafeteria. The food was almost done, and everyone was going from room to room, bringing out desks and chairs for people to sit on in the courtyard. I signed with some of the girls from the deaf classrooms as the food was prepared, and helped serve everybody was it was ready. Every person got at least one plate full of food, and a cup full of soda. Once everybody finished, we walked around, and offerend seconds and refills. As I walked by Jose Daniel, I noticed that he hadn't even touched his food. I told him to eat, but when I came back, his plate was still full. I sat down next to him and began feeding him the food myself. We made a system that if he didn't like the food I was trying to give him, he would just turn his head, and if he wanted something else, he would point to it. Soon most of his food was gone, and just in time for a giant horse pinata to be carried out. Students took turns swinging at it with a bat, but no one could break it open. But then Yohanna from the younger deaf classroom came, and with one swing the pinata fell on the ground.

All the kids ran around, their pockets full of candy, when we started handing out the bags. Parents thanked us, kids hugged us, and everybody was smiling.
Until we checked our watches.
It was 12:03 when I first started crying. I had initially thought that I might be able to keep my eyes dry, but when Diana came running towards me, tears streaming down her face... I couldn't help but begin to cry as well. Zulema found me and jumped into my arms. I danced with her and kept calling her, "Mi amor." I went over to Mariano's classroom, where I signed goodbye as they walked away, one by one. One of the older boys, Ezequial, pulled me into a long hug, which brought even more tears to my eyes. The bus came back (it had dropped off and picked up all the families that weren't officially enrolled at Escuela Especial) and I began crying again. Even Darwin, who never frowns, looked to be on the verge of tears as they carried him onto the bus. I gave everyone one last hug, until there was no one else. I went to the back of the bus and reached threw the window to hold Diana's hand. The doors slid shut, and the wheels started to move, but I kept my hand on the bus. Only seconds later I had to let go- and for the last time, I saw them roll down the dirt trail...

"Don't worry about the future, the present is all thou hast, the future will soon be the present, and the present will soon be past." - William R. Evans III & Andrew Frothingham

"Remeber the past, live in the present, and look forward to the future."

I woke up, and the first thing I saw, was one of the weirdest things I have ever seen. What I saw was from a circus we had gone too last night- the image stuck in my head. I will not, however, elaborate on what we actually saw unless asked face to face, because only in person can that experience be shared (but I had to put it on my blog because such and experience cannot be ignored.)

On another note- I woke up on time this morning and we made it to the school a few minutes before the students. I worked with Morgan in Ana Maria's second grade class, where I had never been before. Class started outside on the concrete basketball court behind the school. At first it was just Tatiana, Royner, Anthony, Levi, and Jose Daniel with us, but then Michael came. Michael has ADHD, and is just about the cutest thing I have ever seen. She shows her love in a more physical way, but will stop squirming if you pick her up. Our outside class time consisted of drawing with chalk, playing with a ball, and chasing Tatiana and Michael down. One of the times I chased Michael, I caught her and swooped her up to bring her back to the group. As I was carrying her, I told her that she was very beautiful (and I cannot explain how true that is), and she buried her face in her hands, giggling and blushing. Soon we went back inside (Levi disappeared for a while), and began doing little lessons. About half way into one of the lessons, Michael got up and tried to run away. Ana Maria pulled her back, and Michael then began throwing pens around. This continued for a while until Ana Maria locked Michael in her arms so she couldn't move. Even as Michael sobbed, screamed, and kicked, Ana Maria continued with the lesson. Michael was soon released (once she stopped crying), and she immediately climbed onto my lap. I kept trying to work with Jose Daniel as Tatina squealed and flailed about, Michael continued to cry, and Royner threw yoga balls at my head. After a while, Ana Maria and Morgan took Tatiana and Michael for cool down walks, while I stayed with the others. Shortly after they got back about fifteen minutes later, the bell rang and the kids ran out for lunch.

After lunch, I returned to Ana Maria's classroom to work with Levi. Levi, being from Oregon, understands English, but won't talk. I brought him out to the swings (because they're the only thing that really interests him) and tried to get him to talk. I tried to get him to tell me if he wanted me to swing him higher, but he just hummed. So after about half an hour, I told him that we needed to go back inside. But he remained on his swing. Whenever I held the chains to try and stop him, he would reach out and pinch me or tear at my hand. It took a good thirty minutes to finally get him to the classroom door, only for him to run back to the swings. For the last part of class, I played with Royner, who was laughing uncontrollably  All was fun and games until Royner threw his bottle of orange soda at me. He ended up having to clean it all up and I ended up with a soaking wet skirt and shirt. Sooner than I had hoped, the bell rang and the kids drove away. That was the last time we would ever get to say, "Hasta manana."

Because tomorrow is out good-bye party, we went to the store and bought tons of food. Rice, beans, milk, melons, cabbage, beets, chicken, soda, garlic, tomatoes and so much more (a lot is for individual bags we will be giving to families).

It feels like this trip has flown by- yet when I look back to when I first boarded that plane, it seems like a lifetime ago. I wish we could stay longer, but I'm glad that we at least had time to get to know all these amazing people.

"Remember the past, live in the present, and look forward to the future," -Unknown

"He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much."

This morning was the first time, in a very long time, that I have actually needed the alarm to wake me up. We made it to Escuela Especial (still a little later than intended) and got right to work. Harry and I started off in one of the deaf classrooms, the two teachers are Mirna and Marino (but Marino was not there yet). Immediately, I was amazed at how fast these kids could sign to each other, understand what their friend said, and then respond. Unlike my class yesterday, in which I had to use my lesson plan, the teacher was fully prepared with a lesson that would not only challenge the kids, but would teach them. The class started off with a little written quiz, and then began to review new signs for opposite words like "bonita" and "feo", and "abrir" and "salir". The kids all caught on quickly (and I managed to remember a few words myself) when the second teacher, Edgar Marino, came in. Marino, just like the kids, is deaf. He has an amazing personality, and was willing to sit down with me later to teach me some new signs. After quickly reviewing the newly learned signs with the class, Marino asked Harry and I what our names were, then asked the class to come up with signs for our names (once you spell out your name, you can come up with a sign that represents you). So after a little bit of debating, the kids decided that my sign would be an "a" in sign language, then a "v" which you slide under your eye. After they finished their sign lesson, the kids moved onto math, where I was surprised at the level of multiplication. As the kids finished their last math problem, the bell rang. I will admit I sat there a little awkwardly, not knowing if I should walk out, or wait for the children and the teacher to realize it was lunch. But we all walked out sooner or later.

During the students' lunch, we made plans as to which children we would each specifically work with afterwards, and interacted with the students. I was assigned a little preschooler named Josuan, who is blind, and who the teachers say cannot walk. Considering that he was only in preschool, and that he wouldn't be able to see what I was doing, I didn't do any lesson plans, but rather sat with him and held his hand (if his hands weren't already in his mouth). It was astonishing to see the amount of educational activity in the preschool class compared to the deaf classroom. All the students were sitting on the floor, squeezing plato, rolling around, or not doing anything while the teachers sat and talked to each other. I tried to engage all the kids in some activity or another, but my efforts fell flat. I focused mainly on Josuan (I kept asking the teachers to let me try and walk with him because they had tied him to a chair) until the teachers put him in a wheelchair and rolled him out of the classroom.  After that, I worked with a little boy named Jose Andres on a shapes game. Soon, Jose Andres left too, and the only two students left were a boy named Francisco, and a boy named Ever. I tried to ask Ever what he wanted to play with, but he just gave me a weird look and rolled away on his yoga ball. Francisco, however, sat at the door, looking for the bus to come and pick him up. I asked if he wanted to play with anything. No response. I asked him if we wanted to sit down. No response. I handed him some plato, and he picked it up and threw it at the ground. There were only ten minutes of class left, so I rubbed his back as he laid on the ground, and he soon fell asleep. The bell rung once more, and Ever finally opened up to me and held my hand as he danced out to the bus. All the kids piled onto the bus and began waving good-bye, a younger deaf girl came around with a piece of paper and had us all write our names on it, and soon the bus was rolling down the street.

We did the same thing as yesterday, we had our lunch and then went off in separate groups (today, Nathaniel, Gena, and I were going on home visits with Sarah, one of our translators, Zach, and a social worker named Magali). As we waited for our taxi to arrive, my group sat with Marino as Sarah signed to him. Our first trip was to Veta Cruz, thirty kilometers away from Escuela Especial. The "house" that we visited, was really an old bar, that was only visited by people rarely on Saturdays. Of the five children in the house, two (nine year old Kenny and seven year old Alysia) were disabled. Alysia has back problems, and she is cross-eyed because of mishandling during birth (she was barely a pound when born, so the doctors kept her for three months, and returned her cross-eyed). The kids lived with their grandparents, as both their parents had left. The grandmother, Maria, told us that the father stopped by every so often to drop off clothes and shoes, but the mother was supposedly "crazy" and hasn't been heard from. Maria and her husband, Jose, tried to take Alysia for an examination to get her eyes fixed- but she would not let anyone near her. Kenny, is just about the opposite of his sister. He is very out-going and wanted to talk and to hug, but had no diagnosis. The grandparents told us that he would immediately forget everything you told him, but they had not brought him to a hospital to see what was wrong. Both the kids go to a normal school. The second house visit we went on was to a house with a three year old girl named Rosa with cerebral palsy. Rosa is on two medications, one of which costs her family $20 a week. Rosa couldn't lift her head, but her grandmother (her mom was at the market) told us that she did physical therapy two times a week.

Seeing the kind of homes some of the kids comes from, makes it even more amazing that they can come to school everyday with a huge smile on their face. While people in America become sad over lost Iphones or lost soccer games, these kids can come from almost nothing, and give everything.   

"He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much." Bessie Stanley

"Change your attitude, and your perception of the problem will change."

Nothing will wake you up better, make you work harder, and get you more excited than the idea that you'll fall in love today. I unintentionally woke up an hour early (at around 5:30am) and rolled around in my bed until I finally decided to get ready- half and hour before our alarm would go off. After breakfast, we grabbed our lunches and headed off. We reached Escuela Especial a little later than intended, so the kids were already there. Immediately after stepping out of the van, kids were coming up to us saying, "Hola, hola!" and giving us hugs. We set off to our classrooms (except for Max and Sammie who were going on home-visits in the morning). I looked into my assigned classroom, and five curious faces looked back. Zulema, and eleven year old sweet heart, immediately grabbed my hand and pulled me into a hug. Both Zulema and Maria Jose (another student in my class) didn't talk, but either made noises or gestured. Zulema would communicate with me by gesturing to or patting something that she wanted me to do something or other with. Wilber (a nine year old child with Downs) was reluctant at first, but soon warmed up to me. Christopher remained in his wheelchair, but was always engaged in our lesson. And finally Julio, who would communicate by drawing in my notebook.

The teachers started off the day by bringing all the kids in our class to their school garden (the school grows the food that they use in lunches) and had them exercise their hands by pulling grass. When we returned to the classroom only minutes later, I was a little surprised that the teachers didn't immediately dive into a lesson with the kids. The teachers were talking in Spanish to each other, so I waited about five minutes to see if they were planning some kind of activity. But after a while, I figured that I would have to present them with an idea. I asked the translator with me, Yojanna, to please tell the teachers that I had a lesson plan ready with me, and that I was more than willing to show them how to use it. The teachers excitedly agreed, so I got out my lesson plan. This plan includes a picture book, filled with pictures of animals you would generally see on a farm and the sounds they make, and cards that have pictures of the animals, and cards that have pictures of the sounds. I had intended for me to get out my book, ready to an attentive crowd of students, instruct them to match each animal card with its counterpart sound, and I expected them to do so in a calm, maybe a little disorderly manner. What I did not expect, however, was for five children to battle for the book, send cards flying across the room, begin yelling the sounds that they animals made (the favorite was most definitely "Muu"), and try to yank me in all directions- not even bothering to listen to the story. So I had to adapt. I managed to get the kids together in about a minute or two, and returned to the lesson. But considering that I had to do something differently, I began improvising. Instead of reading each word straight out of the book. I simply pointed to the picture of the animal, and waited for the class to repeat. This method worked much better, and the kids actually stayed in their seats. After the kids repeated all the animals a few times (except for Zulema and Maria Jose, who only managed similar sounds) I would move onto the animals, saying things like, "La vaca dice, 'Muu'" and the kids would repeat. Then I got out the cards and would show them separate pictures of the animals. The teachers willingly partook in this activity, and we managed to keep the kids interested. Lisa Marie and Sarah came in to check up on the class, and Sarah brought her iPad with her, where she happened to have the single song "Stereo Love". Once the music got going, Zulema, Julio, and Jesus (and blind boy who had joined us) got up and started dancing, and Wilber became the star dancer. He spun around on the floor, kicked his feet, and put on an amazing dance party. This party lasted a while, but once we stopped replaying the song, we got back to the lesson until lunch (the kids have lunch at 10:30) During lunch, I talked (or signed) with some of the deaf girls at the school. It reminded me that I could use a refresher or two. We talked, signed, and watched the kids petal on weird little bikes madly across the school until the bell rung and we went back to class.

The second part of our school day was a little less organized. Clay was balled up on the table, then thrown over the wall and into the office next door. The kids began to draw and not listen, and they would run over to a cabinet in the room and pull down toys to play with. This wasn't necessarily a problem, for the kids did indeed need to blow off some steam. Neither of the teachers were too engaged in the entire classroom process, until Wilber grabbed a folder from the cabinet and brought it to everyone. The folder was filled with pictures that we would show the kids, and then have them tell us what it was (with an exception to Zulema and Maria Jose). After literally about fifteen minutes of repeating the word, "agua" to Zulema, and only hearing her say, "aha" back, I decided I had to change my approach again. I went through each word with Zulema, and found the ones that she had an easier time saying than the others. I made a pile of those cards and found the one that she could say the best, "boca" (though she kept saying 'bohaaa') I continued to work with her, going through each letter sound slowly until finally, she shouted, "Boca!" This breakthrough moment, was the perfect thing to end my day. The bell rang again and the kids all rushed out to jump into the van. Whether I knew them or not, kids would wave to me and I would wave back. One boy began signing to me, and although I hadn't and inkling of what he was saying, I smiled and tried to sign back. The kids left, and shortly after, we split into three groups and left (Max, Nathaniel, and I went grocery shopping with Lisa Marie).

Today was a crazy rush. I had woken up, a perfect picture set in my head of what the day would be like, and then I got to the school and everything was totally different. I had to improvise and change the way I had planned on doing everything to get anything done. Not only did I have to talk in Spanish, but I began thinking in Spanish too. I made amazing connections with the kids in only four hours, but that's not what really shocked me. What struck me the most, was the teachers. I'm not sure what I was really expecting, but it surprised me when it took a nine year old boy to take the initiative and grab a lesson from the shelf. I've heard about the lack of supplies, but now I've seen it first hand. Seeing what I've seen, makes me wish I had ten more lesson plans in my bag, because these kids are so much more capable then what they are perceived to be. I asked the teacher what her usual lessons were, and all she showed me was one of the kid's notebooks, were there were a few traced letters and some glued in pictures. I'm going to a different classroom tomorrow, but whichever it is, I'm going to give it my all.

"Change your attitude, and your perception of the problem will change." -Unknown

"The road to success is always under construction."

Where do I begin? Only about twenty-four hours ago I boarded a plane that would take me to a place I had never been before, a place I only could fantasize about until now. We landed in Managua, Nicaragua, a short hour and a half drive away from our final destination. As soon as I stepped off the plane, precipitation fell heavily on my skin. On our van ride to Hotel Hamacas (where we're staying) our drivers played music, and the song "Barbie Girl" came on. Considering the fact that that song just happened to be the theme song of my fourth and fifth grade experience, everyone willingly sang along. We talked about weird dreams and moments, we laughed, we slept, until about 12:00pm when we reached Hotel Hamacas- our home away from home. Needless to say I couldn't sleep- the anticipation for tomorrow was keeping me up.
I woke to birds calling and a delicious breakfast. We all climbed back into the van by 7:00am and were off to clean the classrooms at Escuela Especial Sor Maria Romero. On our drive to the school, I saw a very big, very old church. The paint on its colassel walls was chipping, only two people sat in the foyer, it was as if this amazing building was stained by time. But just across the street sat a brand new, colorfully painted, crowded playground. Once we got to the school, we were introduced to the principle, Juana, and the staff and translators. We were each assigned something to clean; Nathaniel and I were assigned the preschool classroom. For the next four hours (until lunch) we scrubbed mats with sponges, completely ridding them of grime and dirt. While we worked, music blasted from the school's radio, making it that much easier to smile. We finished lunch, and assembled the mats back in the preschool classroom, our work finally done. When we returned to the hotel, we were told to grab a trash bag, water, and a notebook- we were going on a walk. When we reached the beach, an amazing sight greeted us. Wind gently pushed white-crested waves to the shore, land stretched around the enormous lake, and across the water- two giant volcanoes. The volcanoes loomed eerily in the haze, a beautiful scene. Thinking we were to pick up trash, we readied our trash bags, but were told they were to be used to sit on as we planned our blogs.
When we had first come to the school, it was pretty dirty. But when I looked at all we had done in six hours... it still amazes me how much work we got done. I can relate our cleaning to the church and the park. The school was in need of cleaning, just as the church was. But when we finished, it was as clean and presentable as the park. The same place- two indentities. It's an amazing feeling to know that you're a part of the decision of which identity the school follows. It's amazing to experience an entirely different culture. To see things that are so alienated to us- but are the things that people wake up to in the morning. After working today, I'll be honest, I am exhausted. My back hurts. It's hot. I have sunburn on my shoulders. I'm tired. My hands ache. But I really don't mind, the opposite actually. I love working so hard that you know it'll be easy to sleep tonight. Working so hard that you hurt all over- but know you'll sleep it off. Tomorrow, Max and I will be working in Yahoska's classroom, and I am willing to go through all the ache it takes to change these kids' lives for the better.

"The road to success is always under construction." -Unknown