Precious Moments

“Profe, sit next to me,” Nicole said in Spanish as she presented me with a small plastic chair. She wanted to practice English while eating her lunch. We got through, “What is your name?” and “How old are you?” before the conversation turned back to Spanish.

“And what about your mother?” was one of her questions. I explained that she had passed away years ago and Nicole immediately responded with, “It’s okay. She’s happy because she’s in a good place. And even though you are in Colombia, she is right here with you.”

Another day, while chatting with Jimmy, I commented on the handmade bracelet he was wearing. Later that afternoon, while working with another student, I felt something on my arm. Jimmy was quietly tying his bracelet to my wrist.

Each morning I’m greeted with hugs followed by another round when the students leave.

On Wednesday, another volunteer from France organized a cupcake decorating contest. Cupcakes are not common here and these kids had no idea what they were. The class of about 30 students, ranging in age from 5-15, listened intently as the teacher explained what a cupcake was and that they were going to be able to decorate their own.

The room erupted in cheers and hugs, worthy of a winning goal at the World Cup, just over the prospect of decorating a cupcake. No one ate their cupcake before the final judging was done, no one complained, and every student thanked the volunteers without any prompting. Some left with their cupcake intact, ready to share with their family at home.

On Thursday, David (admittedly a favorite of many of the adults) greeted me with a warm hug, his ever-present smile, and a quick, “Thank God you’re here, I need help on my homework.” Jessica, the teacher, later told me that she had offered him help but he had declined as he was waiting for me. We spent the next hour struggling through body systems in Spanish and I enjoyed every moment of getting to know this hardworking fifth grader.

I tried to help an eighth grader with psychology homework that seemed more like college level work. It turns out I wasn’t much help and it gave me a headache, but Yostin was ever so appreciative nonetheless. I had more success with a fifth grader doing algebra homework. And on my first day volunteering I worked on subtraction with Tomás, 7, and he continues to thank me every day with a hug of course.

Also this week, the students held discussions about women’s issues in honor of International Women’s Day. Students from first grade through high school discussed sexual abuse, prostitution, consent, women’s roles in society, and more, all without a snicker or any sign of discomfort. There was plenty of roaring laughter, however, when groups of four presented skits about related topics.

On Thursday, I sat in a circle with the kids as one of the teachers led us in a meditation exercise before lunch. Eyes closed, everyone silent, and everyone thanking the teacher after twenty minutes of meditation.

During my short break before having lunch with the staff, I walk around the neighborhood. It’s beautiful, with narrow paths weaving up the steep hill and houses seemingly piled on top of one another. The murals are so colorful, but from a distance they hide the poverty that exists there. Brisas del Jardín is a neighborhood of struggle. I learned that the students are surrounded by domestic violence, drug abuse, sexual abuse, and other forms of violence. Some have parents who are coping, while others seem to be fending for themselves.

Still in Medellín, but a world away from Brisas del Jardín, I wake early to the rhythmic sounds of sweeping. The soldiers from the base across the street clean the sidewalk outside my balcony every morning, starting at 5:30. It’s much better than an alarm clock.

“Just think of it as an adventure,” was the advice given to me by one of my AirBnB hosts when I described my hour-plus commute and the many times I’ve gotten lost going to and from school. I’ve tried several combinations of Medellín metros and buses to reach Brisas del Jardín. Each time has truly been an adventure.

Arriving home, my Colombian hosts want to know all of the details of my day and express such joy while patiently listening to the stories I tell them.

I have yet to see a child cry. Fundación Poder Joven has implemented many programs to help students regulate their emotions.

This is not a school. The students attend neighborhood schools either in the morning or afternoon and voluntarily come to the center when they are not in school. Attendance is consistent.

Poder Joven is a real lifesaver for many of these children. The kids that bring me these precious moments every day have every reason to be angry, depressed, and hopeless. But somehow they are full of positive energy, kindness, gratitude, and a strong work ethic.

These are just some first impressions after four days of volunteering. I’ll have a lot more to say as I get to know the students and the work being done at Poder Joven in the coming weeks.