I visited the Serifin house today and visited with Ererik and Oscar. I wanted to give them the puka shell necklaces that I brought back from Puerto Vallarta. Alonso wasn't there, he has a new job working with his father as a caddie on Saturdays and Sunday's at Malaquin, which is the golf club nearest us. I'm sorry to hear he is working again, but glad the other boys are not working. Alonso is 12, so in his culture, working 2 days a week is probably appropriate, sad to say.
Everytime I see the boys I come away thinking about how much I want to adopt them in order to give them some decent opportunities. I hate that these great kids are going to simply repeat the lives of their parents, remaining poverty. I've met with DIF and they say it is possible to adopt them, with the parents permission, but how do you ask for that kind of permission??
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
3 Kings Day 2009
I wasn't able to do anything for 3 Kings Day, but my mother sent gifts for the kids. They arrived today and I took them out to the campo.
The kids have been very upset because DIF, the equivalent of Child and Family Services here, told them they could no longer work at the grocery store. They aren't allowed to work at all anymore. Alonso and Oscar were nearly in tears when they told me. These gifts cheered them up! Here are the photos.
Alejondra got the pin, the two daughters got the rings.
This is the small patch of grass in the front yard.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Christmas 2008
They live right here, on the water. Pretty convenient. This is where they bathe, and wash clothes.
This is Ererik. He is 8 and is one of my special boys. He works every night (and I mean every night--they didn't even take Christmas eve or Christmas day off) at the local grocery store helping people hail taxi's and with groceries--for tips.
This is a "primo" which means cousin.
(L-R) A cousin, and Oscar and Alonso, getting dressed after swimming!
More Cousins...
The worst thing about today was the cousins who asked "what about me?" when I gave out gifts. There simply were not enough toys and pairs of shoes to go around. It was really heartbreaking.
Alonso and his nephew Omar.
Sergio. Probably the most worriesome kid. He has lesions on his face, looks terribly malnurished. I realized today that I know the "rich" members of the family. Sergio comes from the sister with the obvious poorest family. They looked really bad and ate away from the rest of the family. It was pretty sad.
This cousin is washing her socks. She uses body soap and pounds it against a rock. The lake is considered extremely polluted. The "Gringo's" rarely go near it.
My buddy Oscar and his new football.
Ererik in the middle with his cousins.
Grandma (Abuelo).
This is the sister with the poorest family. Breastfeeding another baby.
Sergio
Christmas Dinner.
This is the grandmother and her three daughters. Alejandra is on the left. She is the mother of my friends, Alonso, Oscar and Ererik.
Sister, Alejandro (mother), Serafin (father), Fatima (sister), Teresa (sister in law), Omar (teresa's son), in front is Ererik, Alfonso. Oscar was not in photo, and the other son/brother, Teresa's husband, isn the US working.
Above is Alejandra. The boys mother.
Serafina and his son, Ererik
Ererik
Ererik trying on his new shoes. They fit!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Juan gets new jeans
Juan (says he is 12, but looks no more than 10) works selling chicklets gum in the streets. He is in the same cowboy print shirt whenever I see him. When I met him today, I asked him if he would like a new shirt and jeans. We were a block away from a kids clothing store, so we walked over and we had a look. These children RARELY get to choose anything--not clothes, not meals, really nothing--so choosing was hard. He just sort of stood there, stunned by the choices. He finally picked out black wrangler style jeans and wore them out. He took his old jeans and shirt with him in a bag. When we met his mother in the streets, she looked at me and asked, "Zapatos?"
Shoes.
Shoes.
Tuesday, January 2, 2007
7 for Lunch
I took 7 children to lunch today. I was in the Jardin when it started raining. I was sitting with Maria, 9 (looks 7), and she was holding and petting Pancho. It must be some rule that these kids can't sit down while selling. It is always tough to get them to relax, stop trying to sell, just be happy for a moment. But Maria loves Pancho, so she came over, was persuaded to sit on the bench with us. Hector, her little brother, spotted us and shyly moved toward us. He loves Pancho, too, but isn't good with dogs. He is regularly chased by them (all of the kids think it is funny, and frankly, Hector is an amazing sport. He laughs, even while fleeing for his life through the center of town). We sit for a bit, then I ask someone to help me tell them I would like to buy them a quesadilla. They tell me they aren't allowed to leave the center. I point to the quesadilla place and eventually, they nod in happy skepticism.
We head over and on the way pass their older brother, Jose. He is the hero of the family. Never accepts anythng. Works tirelessly. Always wears the same cowboy-type of shirt. I insist he comes, too, for a quesadillas, but he is standing near his mother and, glancing at her, says no. I look at her and she nods. She convinces him to join us.
That's three. I'm doing the math in my head. I only have 100 pesos for the entire week. I can't afford much. Thank goodness quesadillas are only 7pesos. We are halfway to the taco place when I realize there are an additional 4 children, all around the same age, all street children, all trailing after me. The loco gringa offering food.
I can't do it. I can't tell half the children, no, not you, no food today. The restuaranteur smiles while all of these kiddos scurry around, claiming chairs. I can afford ONE quesedilla each plus a side order of guacamole. I order.
The children laugh and talk and inhale the food before jumping up to go. These aren't lingerers. They have to get back to work.
We head over and on the way pass their older brother, Jose. He is the hero of the family. Never accepts anythng. Works tirelessly. Always wears the same cowboy-type of shirt. I insist he comes, too, for a quesadillas, but he is standing near his mother and, glancing at her, says no. I look at her and she nods. She convinces him to join us.
That's three. I'm doing the math in my head. I only have 100 pesos for the entire week. I can't afford much. Thank goodness quesadillas are only 7pesos. We are halfway to the taco place when I realize there are an additional 4 children, all around the same age, all street children, all trailing after me. The loco gringa offering food.
I can't do it. I can't tell half the children, no, not you, no food today. The restuaranteur smiles while all of these kiddos scurry around, claiming chairs. I can afford ONE quesedilla each plus a side order of guacamole. I order.
The children laugh and talk and inhale the food before jumping up to go. These aren't lingerers. They have to get back to work.
