Finale: Day 16

My readers might be wondering, “Why skip ‘Day 16’? Why disrupt the chronological flow of the posts?” I have made the following decision, to publish “Day 17” before “Day 16,” because I felt the contents of the latter post would bring more of a finale to my blog. For me, my last Friday at Centro “2 de abril” truly brought an end to my internship. Friday was the last day I spent with the students I have been helping, attending, and grew fond of during the past three weeks. Therefore, here we go for my last post on my internship experience at Centro “2 de abril.”

Friday, June 6^th, 2014

Before dropping in the school, I passed by the nearby kiosco, one minute away, to buy little presents for the students and teachers. Predicting the stocks for merienda were low, I bought cookies from the students’ favorite brand, four packs of different flavors each. Aware the teachers barely had time to eat properly in between their trips from one workplace to another or to university, I bought an alfajor for them to munch upon. I knew it wasn’t much, but I still wanted to show them a tangible sign of my appreciation, in honor of the time I spent among them wonderful people.

I arrived just in time to say my last goodbye to April, who was heading from a therapy at Centro “2 de abril” for a home-service session with the now-healed Bo (thank goodness!). She loved the alfajor, and gave me a huge hug. “Te voy a extrañar pila! Gracias por toda tu ayuda, en serio,” she told me earnestly. All the therapists have been assuring something similar. I’m happy I wasn’t a burden, but on the contrary am esteemed as a valuable help.

Mu arrived forty minutes late, but Ana and I didn’t really see the time pass. We were quite busily and gladly taking advantage of his tardy, sharing future plans and personal stories. Mu seems to have recovered somewhat from his cold. He did not sneeze anymore, but his cough sounded as a result of something caught in his throat. One thing I realized with a pang is that Mu does not know how to blow his nose. It seems so obvious, to blow a runny nose in a tissue, yet Mu did not know how. And I doubt the other boys know either. When Ana or I saw Mu with a runny nose, or perceived mucus accumulating visibly, we fetched a tissue and cleaned the area; then, in the attempt to squeeze as much mucus out, we would repeatedly press the upper part of Mu’s nose. This was the best we could do. And it really is not much, for Mu began to sniffle a couple minutes afterwards.

Ana was less forgiving than April, and she demanded much more work done from the sick Mu. She did not spare him for breakfast either, and for the first time I saw her practice pictograms with him. I was surprised, as Ana used pictograms differently from April. I had naively deduced there would be a universal way to use pictograms with autistic children, and I was rapidly struck back to reality. Just as the therapists had varying teaching methods and interactions with the students, they employed the pictograms differently.

As a reminder of April’s method: She prepares two cups and two bowls, with one of the two filled with food or drink. She keeps the filled cup and bowl, and gives the empty bowl and cup to Mu as well as the pictogram board. He has to give one pictogram according to what he wants, either milk/juice or toast/cookie. Depending on his facial expression, April and I can see whether he has acquired what he wanted or not.

Now, how does Ana use pictograms? Her method extended breakfast much longer. She did not open her mouth once, leaving Mu to his own pace. April forced Mu to sit while eating, ending his breakfast if he trespassed three warnings. Ana, on the other hand, allowed Mu to walk around the kitchen-dining room; she and I were only guarding the exits such that he would not escape to another area. Throughout the entire breakfast-pictogram exercise, Mu walked up and down, this way and that, asking for a sip of juice or mouthful of cookie when he pleased. Ana later explained that she avoided verbal communication during the exercise because she wanted Mu to understand the situation alone. She wanted him to realize he was having breakfast, and he alone had the “power” to receive his food. Mu must have been surprised to work for his breakfast as well; indeed, with Ana, he usually has the easier way out (until he has to mop the table and sweep the floor), given the filled bowl and plate immediately.

           After the breakfast exercise was over, Mu was taken for an entire hour of work. Even though Ta arrived, Ana did not relinquish against Mu’s sluggishness. I felt sorry for Mu, and encouraged him with smiles and affectionate pats on the back, though I did not give in to chasing behind him when he managed to run away. That boy is too strong, and it is with brains rather than physical strength that I have to bar his way out. When working with Mu, a fortress of chairs, tables and other furniture has to be built to defend the exits. Afterwards, with Ta, she delayed lunch for half an hour as a punishment for Ta’s whiny and uncooperative disposal to work. He cried and screamed, turned his head from left to right and up and down, stared at Ana and turned to my more accessible smiling face when she looked back at him hard. Ta barely finished a quantity equivalent to a third of Martin’s, and hey! I’m proud that I was the one who led through the completion of one! Still, I must say, Ana can be stubbornly unyielding. Although I persevered through Ta’s caprices, there were various occasions during which I faltered and almost crumbled under his strident shouts.

           I ate lunch in the living room today, to look over the students who were streaming in one by one (remember, I was half an hour behind the normal schedule). Thank goodness I was there! An accident could be prevented between Jo and Si. Jo always tries to assert his superiority to others, and really wants to act grown-up. He was trying to brandish the protesting Si in the air, in spite of my pleas for him to put him down, and Si almost tumbled over to the floor. I was there just beside to catch him in my arms. But my heart skipped a beat or two. It’s the second time Si almost fell headfirst to the ground, though this time, it was hardly his fault. Si is experiencing a regression; his behavior has been on an exponential decay during my internship. Today, he pulled To’s hair with both hands, laughing quite diabolically, and he also enjoyed scratching Jo and tearing at Josefina’s hands. I didn’t witness any of this craziness, but I did see the consequent injuries and wounds. Si only touched me once, and not as aggressively, and it’s therefore queer for me to think him so. But yet, I do not doubt his capability of his doing it. Behind his adorable appearance, and his gentleness when he leads me to the therapeutic ball or to help him put his shoes on again (which he purposely takes off to hoard my full attention on him), Si hides a lot of “primitiveness” I have glimpsed from books he tore apart and tantrums he threw. After all, I never am the one who forces him to work or complete his assessment.

           How stubborn these students can be is astonishing! Do you know how long Br insisted to not say the date? Thirty minutes. Ana, in turn, did not satisfy his thirst for water for the same amount of time. She even “tortured” him by drinking the cup of water she had brought for him originally right in front of him. But he did give up easily. I tried to persuade him to say the answer, but no, no, no.

Br: “Quiero agua o algo asi.”
Se Jeong: “Y yo quiero que me digas la fecha. Que dia es hoy? Hoy es el... vvv...”
Br: “Viernes!”
Se Jeong: “Muy bien! Viernes cuanto? Viernes.... sss....”
Br: “Viernes sabado!”
Se Jeong: “No Br. Tu ya sabes. Lo habias dicho antes. Hoy es viernes… seee…”
Br: “Siete! Se ensucio! Tadam!”

And so on. This is just one of the examples. I swear, I felt as if I was caught in a catch-22. Br has talent to drive someone crazy. And I don’t know how he managed to hold on so much. At the same time, I now know his asking for water is a way to attract attention, or run away from a room. I now know to not give in to him easily. The therapists congratulated me for learning so much on the children, and understanding them so well. They say I have the ability to make people feel comfortable and become a ray of sunlight for those around me; they say the students felt it as well. They also say that, despite my smiling and comforting presence, the boys realized they will not have the easy way out with me, and they do not try to take advantage me as much anymore (though occasionally). Anyways, after thirty minutes, Br did give up to Ana’s expectations, and he answered the date for a cup of water he drained in one shot.

           Fr was much more obedient than Br, although anyone would be considered tame compared to Br today. And I understood the reason behind Fr’s unstoppable laughs. He laughs at the content of “Barney.” Today as well, he couldn’t stop chuckling while he watched the movie with his classmates. But he suddenly became serious and was absorbed in “Monsters Inc.”, when I changed the DVD after the promised half an hour. Al, however, never minds whichever movie is put on. He always watches silently and with a docile smile. Oh and Al was as sweet as ever. I’m glad I never saw one of his protests. Josefina told me he can have quite shocking ways to voice his displeasure… But aww! You know what his mother told me? Al is very eager to come to the school nowadays, and is always ready before time. I didn’t know, because he is quite anxious to go home after five twenty, as his pickup time nears and he feels his mother will ring the doorbell soon. I really hope my absence won’t affect anybody negatively. I really don’t want to hurt anyone.

           To, To, To. You know, I think being around To for too long is unhealthy. Anytime I hear something crash or similar to a dropped object, I immediately think, “Oh no! To!” before realizing To has already gone home, or I am not at Centro “2 de abril.” I’m going to miss the sudden jerking movements, the constant pull of reflexes. I’m going to miss his cheeky smile as he runs back to me to point at the upside-down pot of flower or pencil holder. I’m going to miss his leaning on me, with his cheek for me to kiss. To, I hope you go to the zoo someday, even though I won’t be there. Promise me you will behave even better, that you will improve even more from the progress you have already made during my stay. Promise, promise.

          The morning was a long study period, but the afternoon was looser. We spent forty five minutes playing outside. I really felt as if I was a little girl again, playing the children’s games while helping the boys (hm, I sound so old, talking about “when I was a child!) Of course, my carefreeness was momentarily spoiled by a sudden chasing behind a boy to prevent a naked show in the backyard or to preserve a jar or whatever reason else. But the adrenaline rush is part of the fun. Afterwards, we went inside for an hour of movies (“Barney” and “Monsters Inc.”, to satisfy both ranges of age). Then, we had an hour of “trabajo en grupo,” during which the boys go over the date, days of the week and months of the year, and “discuss” the weather. When the boys' concentration and attention could not be retained, Ana and Josefina announced we would all dance for a bit. It was fun, twirling and skipping around the room, hand in hand with the ones who dared to prance and dance! They even asked me to put on a Korean song, and I did. I chose two I knew the choreography of and had easy, repetitive moves. They all seemed to enjoy the mini-show, though they did not try to learn the dance as they were too amused to watch me. Finally, we had merienda. We waited for the parents while waiting outside, raking leaves and running around. The afternoon was organized a flexible schedule because there were only two adults (I don’t consider myself an adult quite yet) for the eight boys. It made me relax more and enjoy myself better. I could also spend more time in making silent goodbyes and wishing quiet “good luck”s to them all.

           My only regret is that I could not say see Fe for a last time. But he has already said his goodbye to me, when he was so tender to me last week. Jo and Fr know I won’t be coming anymore. But I don’t know if the younger children comprehended I won’t be there from now on. I am taking so many good memories at their sides, so many fun times alongside the therapists. I do not know how to express my gratitude completely and adequately to express my feelings. I also want to thank you, my readers, who have faithfully followed my posts and shared my internship experiences. I hope you have enjoyed yourselves, and are warmed by my stories. Thank you for spending your time with me, finding out and building relationships. 

Day 17, the last

Can you believe it? Today was my last day of internship! And it was a gift of a day. Cs and Jm were both well-behaved, and did not give me a hard time at all. Being with Jm was like an easy babysitting job. He played alone while I watched over him. Cs was in a bad mood, and her temper flared now and then. But her bursts were ephemeral, and from the training I received with the nine boys, I was prepared to handle her. I also bid farewell to Barney (oh, I am never watching Barney the purple dinosaur ever again!). I was surprised and amused when Cs began to sing alone, though this consisted of the repetition of a single line of the entire song over and over again. I was a little shocked when I realized I knew almost all the lyrics of each song. Really, I promise myself I won’t watch Barney ever again.

What a nice and peaceful way to close my internship, don’t you think?

Day 15

           April was surprised when she and I waited over an hour for Mu to arrive. Remembering Mu’s pitiful state yesterday, I attributed his absence to a worsened condition. I didn’t expect, in the least, to see him and his mother ringing the doorbell. Poor, poor Mu! He came at Centro “2 de abril” sniffing with his red nose, sneezing continually, and hot from fever. But, his mother explained, he does not have much alternatives; the mother has to go to work, the house is under reparations, and he has nowhere to go except for the school. On the other hand, although I am concerned about Mu’s recovery, I am also worried he will transmit his illness to the other people at the school. I hope the germs won’t spread anywhere. April and I did not push him too hard on his exercises, did not raise our expectations too high. We did not, however, grant him the satisfaction of behaving capriciously, of being chased after and cajoled back to the classroom. To prevent reinforcing his behavior by giving him the desired reward, April even insisted she and I ignore him completely, only barring the exits by standing in front, without acknowledging him when he tried to escape. Her plan worked, because after a couple attempts Mu stopped running around and away, instead remaining seated. Evidently, it bored and tired him to prance around for no rewards. Mu balanced from one extreme to the other; he was all restless and hyper upon arrival, and ended up dead and limp by the end of his 1:1 session. When he was done with work, Mu resumed lying back on the mini sofa, even burying his head in his arms. Poor, poor Mu! How tired he must have felt! Get better soon, dear Mu.

           Ta was a whole other story. He was whining and shouting and crying nonstop, all because we did not turn on the television. I’m getting used to the fits and sudden outbursts, because I’ve been hearing a lot of the sort lately. But it still uses up my nerves to repress waves of impatience and the surges to snap, “Please be quiet!” at the loud protests. Ta never wants to work, and he always manages to distract himself! It sometimes frustrates me tremendously, because I just cannot tell whether he has heard me and is openly ignoring me, or whether he has not understood what I said. But I have to be forgiving and patient and understanding. And I hope I am successful, in Centro “2 de abril” and elsewhere as well.

           My half day was pretty relaxed. I had an hour to talk with April, and we bid ourselves “goodbye” and “good luck,” for it was the last time I saw her. Since Tuesday, I have been saying goodbye to one person per day. . It relieves the charge emotionally, but it still touches me a bit. Saying goodbye… So many goodbyes to say this month! Tomorrow, I’ll be seeing the last of the students attending group classes at Centro “2 de abril.” Josefina told me the students will feel my absence and miss me. I hope I haven’t and won’t disrupt anything in their lives. I hope there won’t be any emerging attachment issues. I’ll head to sleep now. I wanted to be as ready and fresh as possible for tomorrow’s last meeting.

Day 14

           Today was my last normal day at Centro “2 de abril.” Lori will be gone on Friday for personal reasons. Therefore, Friday will not be a regular schedule day; rather, it will be an equivalent to a “Fun Free Friday” during which the students will be given more leisure time and flexibility in the choices of their activities. After all, with only Josefina and Ana as therapists and I as the assistant, we won’t be able to make much progress, if not any at all, with significant validity to record on the students’ files. Boohoo! I can’t believe I’m already nearing to the end of my internship. Really, it sped by so fast! I feel like I have been repeating the same thing over and over throughout my posts these past few days, but it is because it truly strikes me. Time flew by. And I have grown fond of the people I met, students and teachers, and I don’t think I am completely wrong when I say my feelings are reciprocated.

           The morning 1:1 sessions were essentially tranquil. Ta fell in love with Ana all over again, and could not stop from staring at her for even one second. Always standing up to look at her right in the eyes, and caress her face, and who knows what else. When we were both exasperated by the stalled progress, and had trouble suppressing my nervous-frustrated laughs, Ana decided to leave the room. I cannot forget Ta’s glance of despair, watching his beloved abandon him. He whined loudly and cried for a minute before I (finally) managed to convince him to concentrate on finishing his exercises. What a relief to see him pull through the ten beads through the thick thread! I felt the greatest moment of satisfaction and accomplishment. Even Ta must have felt my ecstasy, though he was overly absorbed in contemplating Ana, who had returned to congratulate the lovesick boy.

Mu arrived twenty minutes late, a considerable improvement compared to the forty-minute late arrivals from the past two weeks. That boys is too strong for his own sake. He might have arrived earlier, but his refusal to work and brute strength prevented much progress. Indeed, I almost fell on the floor with the computer screen I clutched in a desperate attempt to regain balance, while Ana almost tumbled out of her chair when she attempted to bar his escapade to the refrigerator. If Ta strung my nerves with his distraction, Mu tested my patience with his denial in identifying a spoon. For the past two weeks, Mu has been doing the identification exercise for spoon (he has to choose a spoon amid other “distractor” objects), but he is not showing any improvement whatsoever. I am pretty sure it is his inattention and carelessness, but attitude does not excuse dearth of learning. Or does it? However, I forgive Mu for his sluggish and uncooperative mood, because goodness, Mu is sick, so sick! It’s not fair to send a child to school when he is at such a pitiful state, especially when he cannot voice his discomforts properly and understandably. He was sneezing at ten-minute intervals in the morning, and the air he ejected was particularly attracted to Ana’s and my faces. Oh dear, my immune system must have invigorated thanks to all the exposure to different microbes. In the afternoon, he came back from the daycare center at a worse state. Poor Mu had a red nose like Rudolf the Reindeer, and he could barely stop to sneeze or cough or sniffle. Nonetheless, his illness did not assuage his appetite. On the contrary, he devoured, and stole from others’ plates, anything that appeared edible.

           Talking about devouring. Br must have entered a black-hole-hungry depression stage, because he emptied the refrigerator. This was before snack time, but he had eaten all the lunch he had brought, a sufficient quantity to satisfy hunger for hours. And say, I was worried his depression might bring starvation. Lori, Ana and I were too astonished by the vacuumed refrigerator shelves where had been stored a piece of cake, cut apples, a banana, and milk. He foraged everything and anything in five minutes of our inattention, when the three of us were taking pictures (as it was Lori’s last day with me). Oh well. Do you ever reach a point in which you have repeated something so much you end up messing up what you say? Br pushed me to the brink. As an example, he characteristically twisted my hand and insisted, “Maria (his mother), vamos a la camioneta!” One of my automatic answers, “Br, yo no soy Maria”; instead, I slipped, “Br, no me llamo camioneta.” And I confess this was not the only occasion of my mistakes. For this reason, I apologize in advance if I ever call myself “truck,” or mix up words or names, in the middle of a conversation with you.

           The teenagers were generally in a blissful mood. Al again invited me to play puzzles with him. And this time Jo popped in. Jo had his mood shifts and anger explosions, but those are so characteristic of him I have learned to let them pass as the therapists advised. Sometimes, I forget Al has a different thinking process from mine, and I am reminded of the reality quite strongly when playing puzzles with him. What seems evident to me is challenging for him. It pinches my heart, but what can I do? I guess that’s why he is there to learn, and I am there to help. One thing about Al stuns me though: his endurance in cold. I mean, he was sweating in spite of wearing a short-sleeve shirt, when my teeth are clattering from the chill! And Fr? I’m not sure what was so funny, but he was cracking up all the time. It’s good to see him in a good mood. I hope it keeps on.

           If yesterday was a day to strip off clothes, today was a day to mark territory. Si and To are a fatal combination to keep in the same room. Today, they opted to leave plentiful puddles here and there around the carpet floor. The thing is, the therapists instructed me to ignore the children who intentionally behave badly, including pee on the floor. Anyway, I do not really have much alternatives, because it is not as if the boys wave me a sign to warn, “Hey! I’m going to pee now!” Whether with pants on or down, the boys do their business comfortably standing, out of nowhere, whenever they please. What usually happens is me looking at them horrified, turning my head in pretended nonchalance while biting my lip, waiting a two minutes, taking the still-pants-less/wet-pants boy to the bathroom (in the hope he will eject all liquid, though he manages to store some for later), and filling the bucket with cleaning product and water to spare the room from smelling like a zoo the next day. Lori and I were wiping off pee and thoroughly washing our hands much too often for my taste. Our last bonding moment was quite memorable, I assure you. Besides, though Si remained an angel except for his toilet accidents, To had other brilliant ideas in mind, such as dropping materials he was holding in his hand into the puddle. I am not a germ freak, but oh please! Despite all the havoc he causes, why does To have to be so cute and affectionate? Not only does he make me laugh with his obsessive distaste for broken boxes (his toy boxes all have cracks someplace), he also always comes to ask me for a kiss, pulls my face to his cheek, hugs me, gives me his wide cheeky smile. And by this time, I learned how to act sneakier, and I don’t get caught by Si anymore, meaning I do not become victim of Si’s jealousy attacks. (Lori did today though, and Si ended up pulling her hair, much harder and longer than he had to me that one time.) For an hour and half, I stumbled from Si, who led me around by the hand or stroke my face, to To, who demanded kisses all the time. I’m being spoiled myself by all the love, going from one student to the other.

           Charged last regular day. I’m on a countdown. It’s a peculiar feeling that I experience. I know I will miss the people at Centro “2 de abril,” and the therapists say they will miss me as well. But what about the children? I see them so affectionate and loving when they are around me, but how will they be when they realize I’m not there? I won’t find out, because I won’t be there anymore. And I think that only kindles my curiosity more. 

Day 13

           I made a resolution: I won’t say I’ve had a nice and “quiet” day ever again. It is almost as if a comment on the calm and peacefulness of one day brings an impending disorder the next day. But the truth is, though I may sound as if I am complaining, I am happier of the turn of today. After all, more disorder does imply more adventures.

           Bo was sick, and I therefore headed directly to Centro “2 de abril.” The poor sweetheart! He has contracted pneumonia! I hope he will heal soon, quickly, and completely. Mm, it’s sad that I could not say goodbye to him, or see him one last time. But he probably has already forgotten me. Oh, all the goodbyes with the children are mostly for me, let’s just admit, Se Jeong. When I arrived, Pati was with Mu and Ta and finishing to read Orejitas el conejo. (Did I mention how cute children’s books are, especially with all the illustrations accompanying the storyline?) I kissed a sleepy and low-energy Mu and a crumpled-under-frustration Ta. In spite of Ta’s obvious grumpiness and angriness, he falls under the category of people who sit around sulking rather than, well, rant and break everything on his path. From this introductory scene, my expectations prospected another serene day.

At 12, not one minute more nor one minute less, Pati announced lunchtime. I had the leisure to digest while I ate. No relays from front door to table to microwave. No jerked reflex movements to salvage whatever needed to be saved, except for that one time when Mu tried to steal my lunch container right out of my hand and I had to spin around on my stool away from the gourmand (who had already gulped down his share). No interruptions. I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed the lunch privilege; all the therapists had the luck, the rare luck. After lunch, the director decided the children could spend much of the afternoon playing outside. It was a beautiful day, sunny, with a breeze neither chilly nor heated. Days with such a wonderful day always make me happy, and it seemed to cheer the therapists and students alike as well. Thus I spent most of the afternoon outside with the children, and sharing my goodbyes with Pati whom I won't see anymore.
So far, my readers must be wondering, “I don’t understand Se Jeong’s initial comment. Everything seems to be flowing smoothly.” How about this: the children were gearing up. They were following rules of fair play to allow the therapists and me to fuel ourselves, to have at least a meager chance to catch up with them, after they had engaged their game. Furthermore, I believe people may sometimes be contaminated with external influences, such as the attitude of a friend or peer. The effect is apparently valid for the students at school. One after the other, they filed in, the next wilder than the prior. The wildness spread like wildfire, and soon all were affected. Br was in his down mood again! I thought he had recovered, but I guess I thought wrong. He did eat all his lunch, alone, without any spoon-feeding; I am noting this as a good sign, because the most extreme stages of Br’s depression are marked by a dearth of all motivation and suppression of hunger, hinting at suicidal thoughts. Jo was in a fighter’s mood, anything provoked his spitting (literally) wrath. Al was, as always, relatively calm and happy, smiling at the air and giggling nervously every so often (“around you!” they tell me). Fr challenged Pati’s authority a bit too numerous times, but he completed all his assignments in the end. Thank goodness he did not regress to his violence! I really, really do not want him to be kicked out for a turbulence of anger and violence. Ta was thankfully in a lighter mood by this time (he was probably delighted by Ana's arrival). Fe did not come, for the second day in a row. Upon my questions, Josefina told me she had not heard anything from his mother concerning his absences. I just hope he is not awfully sick. To? He improved in his abstinence in throwing things at the school (at home is another story entirely. I am not included in family therapy though; mostly Josefina alone talks with the parents, along with another psychologist I do not know all that well.). But no, apart from his terrible compulsion, To was charging indoors and outdoors at a invisible red cloth. I swear, watching him reminds me of a bull. He even puts his fingers on either sides of his head, pointing them forward like the bull's horn, and slightly bending over to run around.

If I had been stunned by the boys’ ease at walking pants-less in the house, I was not in the least prepared to watch Si strip off his clothes and run around naked. As soon as he arrived, his shoes flew off his feet, and soon his socks trailed on the floor. Fifteen minutes later, as if in a rage, Si quite neatly pulled his pants, underwear, sweater, and shirt down and off. His peers did not really seem to mind; the few who noticed seemed amused, either laughing or pointing their finger at the dancing elf. I, on the other hand, did not know how to react. Not so much because I was uncomfortable. Dear god, no, I was pretty much used to seeing naked people in Centro “2 de abril” by now and grew quite immune to it. My source of discomfort stemmed more so from my uncertainty on how to react. After a brief thought process, I settled on ignoring and pretending nothing had happened (which turned out to be the good choice, Lori, Ana and Pati later assured). But in mind, I was trying hard to repress my instinct to immediately pick up the clothes and force Si to put them back on, a process delayed for around ten minutes. Apart from repeating the clothing removal show thrice (including once outside, in the backyard, where a couple of passersby threw us a “que te pasa, loco?!?!” glance before scurrying away), Si also ended up with a bloody nose and a self-inflicted scratch on his chin, and sipped disinfectant. I was the first to notice the injuries, and also the one who snatched the medicine bottle from Si’s hand. You cannot imagine my worry when I saw blood dripping from the little boy’s face, and my even greater horror when I realized the content of Si’s drink. Simultaneously, when I screamed a horrified “Si!” and (unintentionally quite aggressively) seized the disinfectant, Si pushed the bottle into my hand as he began spitting, disliking the taste of the medicine. Thank goodness for the automatic spitting, I suspect Si did not swallow any of the liquid. I’m not sure whether disinfectant is toxic or not, but I don’t want to risk anything potentially dangerous.

I think Si gave me the most shock of the day, maybe of the entire internship. I’ve seen other drastic accidents happen as well, but I was never at the core. But, to relieve the mood, let me expound briefly about To’s amusing behavior, his intentional wrongdoings for me. Each time he would drop or throw something to the floor, he would dash to me and call my attention. He tugged at my right arm, looked up at me with a cheeky smile, gestured widely towards the upside-down flower pot or bowl, kept tugging more. When I convincingly ignored him, he would even pull my face down towards him, holding the back of my neck and attempting to force me to pay attention to him, until Lori or Pati strode to free me. The therapists laughed watching his little routine. “Look at me! Look at what I did! Am I not so bad? Hello! Aren’t you going to scold me?” Lori, Ana and Pati had a fun time in inserting words for To’s enthusiastic hollow calling. Oh To, when will you learn to stop throwing things to the floor? *sigh* I feel as if, at this rate, I won’t accompany his first trip to the zoo with the people of Centro “2 de abril.”

In all truth, I’m all used to everything happening in Centro “2 de abril” now. No day comes as a complete novelty, because though marked and altered by new features daily, I have grown used to the freshness of every single day. I gladly await (and somewhat hope) for each new day. I am also pleasantly surprised at finding each day bringing more confidence and less doubt on my part, on my actions. Decide for yourself: how would you rate today? I say it was more chaotic than yesterday, but much less disorderly than other days. Would you agree?

Day 12

            I can hardly believe it. I am embarking on my last week of internship. Already. Time flew by, quite literally, and so fast! I feel like I have been gone from school forever, but yet, two weeks? I am really wrecking all my senses of time lately. I sometimes even found myself forgetting which day of the week it was. Especially Wednesdays… I don’t know why each and every Wednesday felt like a Thursday. I just don’t understand why, because there is no specific reason that justifies my troubled sense of time.

           Anyhow, back to the internship experiences. Calm days and less eventful days have been a rarity in my life these past few days (or could I extend to months, or even years?). But today, I would say, quite fits the description of a calm and less eventful day. As I am writing this post, I keep thinking, “Wait, what can I write?” For once, dearest readers, you will be blessed with a shorter post from Se Jeong’s Internship blog. Yay for your time-saving!

           I believe I spent a good forty minutes chattering with April. For, yes, Mu arrived around forty minutes late today. Despite the limited amount of time, Mu managed to complete almost all the exercises on his file. He should have felt very accomplished when he left on his school bus at 10h30. Usually, it takes a tremendous amount of persuasion and running behind his “catch-me-if-you-can”s to go through the same quantity of exercises. Mu is a bright pupil, really, and if he keeps as focused as he was today, his progress would be considerable.

           If Mu was concentrated, Ta was the complete opposite. Ta was as distracted as could be, even though Ana was not there. Everything and anything could catch his attention, digress him away from April’s and my instructions. I could feel my cheek muscle twitching; I was forcing myself to keep smiling brightly that hard. My patience boiled to the limit, threatening to spill over, but I somehow managed to keep my tolerance level slightly (oh so slightly) above. April was in a similar tense state. She would occasionally (and increasingly frequently) glance at me, rolling her eyes to signify her irritation. I would bite my lip and let out my breath before going back to the task of engaging Ta to finish the ten-piece puzzle he had begun six minutes earlier. Working with the distracted Ta exhausted me. I knew I had to maintain my composure and a pleasant demeanor. I knew and I knew. However, knowing does not guarantee an easy task in doing. Phew, at least I can now feel happy I managed to go through the trial successfully.

           Except for Ta, everything went smoothly. Even Br recovered fully from his depression! I was happy to see energetic and loud, merry Br again. Of course, his constant and consistent lines ring in my head for the rest of the day (and evening). But I prefer seeing and hearing him so than watching him struggle through his down mood. He still comes to twist my fingers though, and he’ll keep on until I’m not there anymore.

           Until I’m not there anymore… I wonder if the children will notice my absence. The teenagers will; they are aware and in touch with their surroundings. But the children, I am not sure. Some might, others I am doubtful. Of one thing only I am certain of: I know I will miss them.

Day 11

Friday, May 30^th, 2014

           What a wonderfully chaotic day! Yes, note the paradox. Today, more than on previous days, I was rocked through a series of action-reaction-emotion that left me breathless yet feeling accomplished. “Hm,” you must wonder, “what might have happened that caused Se Jeong such waves of tumult?” Mu’s birthday party.

Mu’s actual birthday was last Saturday, but it was celebrated at Centro “2 de abril” today. It was originally set on this week’s Tuesday, but the therapists and I decided to push back the date. After all, what is better than ending the week with a nice birthday? Besides, it worked better for Mu’s mother as well.

You can imagine the impatience, anticipation, clouding the atmosphere of the center from morning to afternoon. In all truth, the feelings were emanating mostly from the therapists and me. The students appeared to sense something in the air, something that triggered an extra adrenaline push in the teachers, yet they seemed oblivious to the core of excitement (and stress). Well, all the students except one, Fr. Fr understands verbal language, and therefore knew we would celebrate Mu’s birthday. Thank goodness he is not a gourmand, because he is quick and strong, and would be impossible to bar from the stored food. The rest would blink at me as I briskly passed by them, heaving under the weight of enormous Disco bags cracking with alfajores, pasta frolas of dulce de leche or dulce de membrillo and pizza. The curious, hungry ones would try to sneak into the kitchen and steal a treat. Result: a constant eye with superhuman reflexes had to guard the kitchen.

Mu was calmer, much calmer, than he was yesterday. But calmer does not mean more hard-working. He exasperated Ana, once again, during his breakfast (exercise). After devouring cookies and juice (his favourite part), he refused to clean after himself (i.e. wiping the table and sweeping the floor). Even pushing and tugging is ineffective with Mu; he ends up running away at the speed of lightning, and once he sits down… it’s difficult to make him bulge. The therapists cannot suppress their laughter when they find me attempting, in vain, to lift Mu from the ground, losing my balance when he pulls me down beside him (which is his manner of telling me, “Stop bothering me and chill, Missie!). Mu reminds me of a grizzly bear, all cuddly and cute one second, grumpy and grunting the next. You know which exercise makes me chuckle of mixed amusement and exasperation with Mu? The repetition of vowel sounds, such as “aaa” and “eee.” Mu knows how to make those sounds (he always uses it to voice his irritation/boredom against us!), but he never wants to repeat after the teachers’ instructions. Instead, he starts to glare at the teacher who leads this particular exercise, to breathe heavily like an angry bull. After a couple days of observation, I came to a personal theory for his stubborn refusal. I feel Mu thinks we are making fun of him when we make the sounds. I feel Mu is smarter than the teachers judge him, and that he understands verbal language much better than they deem. That’s why I carefully choose my words around Mu (among a few other students). I do not want to make a mistake that earns his distrust.

The three hours of morning 1:1 sessions flew by. After forcing Mu through a couple of exercises for his registro until 10h30, Ana decided to leave Mu to himself. His constant escapades were his way of asking for attention, as he loves to be chased and dragged back to his stool. Though he has to work, it’s not good to reinforce his behavior all the time. Furthermore, Ta and Fe arrived at that time, turning our focus to them. Poor Fe! The moment he walked in I knew he was sick (I was confirmed by an SMS from his mother). He was even more affectionate and cuddly. I was helping him take his coat off, softly whispering words of comfort, and he leaned against me, motioning my hand to comb his hair. His bloodshot eyes and cough gave me a pang, because the sweetheart’s slumber must have been disrupted by the move. With Fe in such a state, and Mu so uncooperative, Ana read a short children’s book on a birthday party, “to initiate the mood.” Meanwhile, I concentrated my efforts on cutting/drawing Mu’s birthday card and decorating the dining room (as if prom’s had not been enough!). As I’m terrible at blowing balloons, it took me double, or more, the time someone else might take.

Lunch was a gift time for once! The students did not come one after the other (with enough time interval to make me rally from kitchen to gate every five minutes), belated because they were buying a gift for Mu with their mother or older brother. Br recovered from his depression, though he still yearns for attention all around. He came to sing and twist my fingers a couple of times. I tried to care more for Fe, who looked terrible. However, Si kept poking around the corners to gently lead me into his curtain corner. The biggest major conflict of lunchtime was fueled by the television. When, at one, I announced the television could now be turned on, Fr rushed towards me with “Monsters inc.” in his hand. Obviously, he was as sick and tired of Barney as the teachers were. But Br and Ta wanted “Barney.” In the end, we settled for thirty minutes of each, although we ended up putting the prior during the entire period.

After lunchtime, we had another story time, to hint at the birthday party that was coming two hours and half later. It was the first time the entire group was put together in the same room, and I understand now why it is not done more often. The students were uncontainable! And Al decided to have his hyper day today! The giant was giggling unstoppably; anything was the most hilarious thing that could happen! Well, at least I’m thankful he did not begin prancing around the room, and that he listens well to the direction, “Quietito. Quedate tranquilo.”

After story time, it was class time for an hour and a half. Oh yes, it can take up to an hour to read a thirteen-page picture book with these children and teenagers. The time it takes to make them sit– and stay seated –, settle down, read, catch and retain their attention… It’s a feat, a whole adventure entirely! I end up memorizing the book, because the pages are read and reread to each student, in the attempt to engage them. Me? I was with To. I feel all warm inside, because To is almost my own student. Since he began attending the center almost at the same time as I began coming, the therapists trust me to guard him. And having spent the most time with him compared to other teachers, I know his quirks and habitudes, and he grew to like me. He even comes to kiss me when he arrives! And one thing I realized: To is an angel until four (and I mean 16h00 sharp). After four, he turns into an unmanageable, restless beast who throws and shatters anything on his path. Luckily (for me), my time with him usually ends around that time, and I am put in charge of another group of students. But I find myself dashing behind him and catching him far too several times from 16h00 onwards.

A little after four, the therapists and I began preparing for the party. Ana and Lori guarded the children away from the kitchen while Josefina and I set the table for the party, heating up the pizza and pouring soda into cups. And wow, from that point on, everything is a rush in my mind! I remember running back and forth from kitchen counter to students, relaying cups and plates from table to sink. I remember washing dishes hurriedly, stopping momentarily to dry my hands and run to (try to) prevent a spilling accident, wiping the face and hands of a child. I remember shrieking when my hand on a stool and felt the unpleasant surprise of a puddle against my palm. I also remember my surprise at Ta suddenly vomiting from nerves and gulping down three slices of pizza and an alfajor. And I remember finally coaxing Mu out of the bathroom, which he visited more than ten times. (He was frustrated almost the entire day, because his stomach was upset but he didn’t manage to… well, you see what I mean. Thank goodness he could in the end. If not, his mood would have been clouded on this joyful day.) I remember glimpses of many moments from the next hour and fifty minutes (until 17h58), and none of them are of peace.

But yet, amidst the chaos and indoor workout, I feel happy. Because all the students (even Ta, I hope) had a good time. Though they did not really understand, they felt they were celebrating something important for Mu. (Only Jo was temporarily unhappy, because he was jealous and wanted it to be his birthday.) We sang “Happy birthday,” and Mu blew his candle. In reality, we lighted the candles four times. Once because Jo blew them; the others, because we could not get a good picture of Mu blowing his candle. Mu was blissful! Not so much because of the nine presents he received, but more so because of all the food he could eat at his leisure. Oh, he was contented, and his stomach was satisfied.

I had met all the parents at least once previously, but I properly had a conversation with them for the first time today. And I think they appreciate my coming to the center. Maybe it is because I spent time with their children. Maybe it is because I care for them, and love them. Maybe it is because they are grateful I grew affectionate of their child, and their children, in turn, like me as well. Whatever the reason, they were all very kind. And extremely talkative. I was caught by one after the other. All the things I heard! All so proud and defensive of their children. It really warmed my heart, their love for their sons really did.

And, at the end, just when I was leaving, I received a surprise gift as well. I had told the therapists my birthday was two weeks ago, on May 15^th, because I always got my age wrong. (It’s as if my birthday was too recent for me to remember I was eighteen when I first came to the center, less than a week after my birthday.) I was hugging Mu goodbye when the lights suddenly turned off and Josefina, Lori and Ana walked in chanting “Happy birthday” to me, holding a plate with an alfajorcito and a little wrapped present. I was so touched! Really, truly. Though small, I could feel their genuine attention and affection, and it really made me feel all warm inside.

Day 10

           Decidedly, I won’t stop stumbling from surprise to surprise. I cannot complain about having had my hair pulled by Fe or Si. What I witnessed today make those assaults seem quite petty. Mu scratched April’s neck. Suddenly. Almost out of nowhere. Mm, actually, that is not the complete truth. I have my belief on the cause of Mu’s outburst.

           Mu arrived thirty eight minutes late this morning. April and I both ran out to open the gate and greet Mu and his mother. While I led Mu inside the house (which I did happily, as I escaped the unmerciful current of wind), April remained a few minutes longer, caught in a conversation. Immediately, I noticed Mu’s restlessness and anxiety, reflected in his even worse than usual constant fidgeting and repeated frustrated grunts of “aaa”s and “eee”s. I was helping Mu through his routine (take off the coat, store lunch in the refrigerator, hang coat and bag in the closet, etc…) when April stormed back in. She stumped into the kitchen, took out Mu’s lunch, and asked me angrily to smell his food and tell her whether I thought it edible. Without expecting an answer, she ranted about Mu’s mother’s criticism that the center was causing Mu to gain weight, a criticism rendered hypocritical considering the size and unhealthy quality of Mu’s packed lunch. My eyes widened when April made a fatal mistake, telling me she thought Mu was too fat and should be put on a diet. Why my nervous astonishment? Mu was standing in the corner, hearing everything. I am not sure whether Mu understood the angered April’s words or not. But I do remember an advice, and personally believe, nothing bad should ever be said about the children in front of them. It is impossible to not whether they are following the contents of the conversation, and there are no reasons to take any risks.

           My impressions were Mu’s behavior worsened following April’s comments on his weight, especially towards her. He would look at me, and smile at me, when I addressed him or gave him instructions. He was more disposed (though still highly uncooperative) to listen to my directions, returning to his seat or standing up when I asked him. But to April, he would seethe like an enraged beast and glare at her every word. April apprehended violence, and confided she remembered Mu’s behavior the same as the time when he had hit her in the past. Her prediction turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy. Ten minutes after work began, Mu scratched April’s neck, leaving burning red marks of his fingernails.

           It was the first time I saw, directly in person, a teacher at Centro “2 de abril” scold a student. (I had heard the director shout at Fr for becoming violent and openly challenging her authority, and kick him out of the room when he threw and broke all the class materials and toys. But I had only heard the sounds coming from a distance.) And April’s anger was not made out. On the contrary, she was genuinely infuriated and hurt, and she did not investigate much effort in hiding her feelings. I was too shocked to react, and had trouble in facing Mu afterwards. But I would not have made much of a difference. April’s hardness and harshness lashed at Mu, for she was determined to make him repent. After all, we cannot afford to reinforce his behavior, and he must comprehend clearly his behavior today was unacceptable. I secretly fear I will be victim of a similar outburst before the end of my internship, because the students are all acquainted to me now and throw their fits now and then, for one reason or another.

           Fe ran into transportation difficulties today as well, and did not come (gratefully for me and April). Instead, we received a hyped-up Ta. Maybe the bad weather, the tempest winds, fueled the children’s agitation and edginess. I found them unusually assertive and disobedient, and I remember I had noted a similar trend on other chaotic-weather days. Ta refused to work. He always distracted himself somehow, stood up for the most minor details, did not follow directions at all and began to whine for the slightest inconvenience. Even rewards, such as pretzels and his favourite toy Igor, did not do the trick in convincing him to follow directions. My goodness! If it were not for my resolve to keep my calm and composure to guard April’s ticked mood, I would maybe have lost my temper as well.

           Oh my goodness! Three hours only, but so many accidents! As if he wanted to further anger April, Mu even had two toilet accidents. The first was a sign of protest when April sent him out in the backyard for a while, to take some fresh air and de-energize himself at least a little. Mu hates going outside, especially when ordered to play with a ball. He decided to demonstrate his distaste by offering a generous puddle in the grass. The second accident was more catastrophic. April and I were working with Ta. Mu had been misbehaving to catch our attention already, standing up and stampeding around the room. April and I must have been successful in ignoring him for him to push the limits. Mu had run off in the backyard (oh why did he learn to unlock the inside clasp of the front door) when April screamed of disgust and indignation. I dashed to see the cause of her reaction and gaped at the sight of an overflowing puddle on the sofa, dripping on the carpet floor. Though I felt sorry for abandoning April, I was greatly thankful my workday ended at noon. There are crazy days sometimes, but I would rather never have such a day again. I was more than happy and relieved to come home!

Day 9

           Every day announces a new adventure. I am amazed by the variety of feats I find myself accomplishing. And the acknowledgements, praise, I receive further empower me in becoming better and gaining confidence in my performance at work. Indeed, all the therapists encouraged me, assuring that they see me more poised around the child, and commented on my quick grasp on the activities and the children’s individual quirks and characters.

           Decidedly, Mu will continue having the worst attendance during the term of my internship. Not only he comes in late in the morning (forty minutes today), he also misses his afternoon sessions. Well, no, I’m making him sound worse than he actually is. It is not his fault his mother has a busier schedule lately, and can have trouble in bringing him in. Nonetheless, whatever the cause, his absences affect his progress. I suspect Mu is not sleeping well these nights, because he comes to the center with zero motivation. He barely cooperates or follows directions, preferring to roll on the floor and tense to make it more difficult to lift him up. How many times did I almost fall on my face while attempting to make him stand up and return to his seat? Innumerably many times. Even when I put my most severe voice, Mu does not really bother to listen to me; at the same time, he realized I cannot win him in brute strength. I find consolation when I manage to keep him seated and prevent him from sliding off the chair or running off to an errand to the refrigerator. I tried in vain, and I cannot do better than that. Ana and I did manage to fill in some of Mu’s exercises for his register, as Fe did not come today. (By the by, Pati defined Fe’s disorder to me yesterday: Fe lacks a corpus callosum, the portion of the brain that connects the left and right hemispheres of the brain. Therefore, Fe has a lot of trouble in coordinating movements, and his therapy is more physical than anything. Fe even has trouble in focusing his eyesight, his eyes wandering independently from left and right.) You might be wandering what I mean by register. Each student has an individualized registro in which are indicated several, specific exercises, depending on his level and weaknesses. All the students basically share similar exercises that vary depending on the advancement level. The exercises are, in general, repeated ten times, following the idea that multiple trials eliminate erroneous responses. The therapists record the child’s progress by notating whether the student: (+) did the exercise alone; (AP – ayuda parcial) did the exercise with some help, in the form of a verbal instruction; (AM – ayuda masiva) required the teacher to hold and guide his hand, showing him how the exercise is to be done; or (-) could not do the exercise, did not know what to do. Mu may take time to fulfill the requirements, but his performance is affected not from ignorance but from inattention and lack of motivation. I mean, please, he does not even bother to look at the objects or us teachers, yet to open his eyes.

           After struggling with Mu, who left on his schoolbus, Ana and I had a brief five minutes of freedom until Ta arrived. From a couple of days of observation, I came to the conclusion Ta should definitely not work with Ana: He is too busy staring at her and asking for kisses. Ana agreed with me, especially after she saw the considerably more work Ta did when she left the room and under my guidance. Example? Ta did not slide one bead through the thread for seven minutes with Ana, while he finished placing in all ten by himself in eight minutes with me. It’s cute to watch Ta around Ana, although it would have been saccharine if Ta were twenty-five years older. But enough is enough, and Ta reached the limit of acceptability. Time to work is not time to be excessively sweet. I manage to push him away better (when he approaches me, the substitute, after being rejected too much), but then again he is more persistent with Ana.

           Ana and I felt very hungry by noon. Nonetheless, lunchtime was delayed by an unexpectedly arrival: Si. How hyper Si was today! Ana did dismiss me though, forcedly sending me to eat; she hates to “starve” me. I hurriedly heated my food, and began my lunch errands, marching back and forth, digesting as well as possible. In a blink, my food containers were emptied, and I focused on the children. Jo and Br had arrived as well, and they added to the weight. Br’s singing is still ringing in my head, and my fingers still feel the pressure of his grip. Jo? I think he transmitted me many antibodies, thanks to the coughs and sneezes he directed to me (almost worse than Sang, I say). And meanwhile, Si decided to become Spiderman today, and to climb atop the shelves. He came down alone when I asked him; he listens to me so well since yesterday! But disaster almost struck, and oh my goodness I am so grateful I followed my intuition! After I came back from the kitchen, I found Si gripped to the shelf. For some reason, my impulse was to grab him by the waist. If I had not done so, Si would have fallen backwards to the floor. My butt and right leg hurt, but potential severe injuries were avoided. Also, Si must have felt shocked as well, because he did not climb on top of the shelves again, after landing protected in my arms. Lori and the director congratulated me for overcoming Si’s caprices, particularly when they saw him gathering the caja de formas he dropped on the floor upon my instruction. Si is one of the wildest, and his obedience to me reflects his affection for me. Today again, he led me by the hand gently, making me sit with him in his favourite corner, where he secluded us from others by enwrapping us in the curtain. His only slip was when I left his side to help Lori with To, our little troublemaker who relishes in throwing objects on the floor… and pulling his pants down to garner attention.

           To just loves to receive the look of surprise and exclamations of protest. He purposely drops objects on the floor to look at me with a big wide smile, wondering with high expectations what my reaction will be. It is as if he is challenging me, “And now? What are you going to do now?”. Una cara de cumpleaños, that's what he turns to me. I confess, it is difficult for me to hold back my impulses, to abstain from cleaning up the mess he makes, or to not turn away from his naked lowerbody. But I am becoming considerably (scarily) better at ignoring him, not giving him satisfaction. In fact, I am growing immune to a number of things, I am not absolutely certain whether it is good or bad. Oh well. I need my defense and survival mechanism at the center. Apart from those “minor” details, To was adorable. The therapists “aww”ed when To presented his cheek for a kiss, when he looked at me with his big brown puppy eyes as he was playing properly with the toys I gave him. (Josefina and I chose a selection of toys, specially designed for To. He has three boxes in his disposition: one with pencils, one with wooden pieces, one with alphabet-letters magnets. To is to play with one box at a time, the one he chooses when the teacher gives him the option. And he is to order all the pieces back in the box before he can ask for another box.) To improved a considerable lot, and abstains himself much better from throwing things to the ground. But endurance is not his area of strength, and after two hours of work, he became increasingly restless and fidgety and rebellious. He left his mark half an hour before he left, spilling over a drawer and Jo’s cup filled with juice.

           By 16h00, I was drained by To. To is the best trainer for sharpening my reflexes, and my energy was absorbed by constant attention and standing-up-and-sitting-down routines. Josefina asked me and Lori (she was in charge of To for today) to try to prevent any of To’s accident from happening, to reward his good behavior with a trip to the zoo. Despite my best efforts, he could not go to his always-asked-for zoo (I should have held To’s other hand when Lori was struggling with him and Si on either side).

           Drama happens everywhere, I swear. I am not spared of drama by escaping from high school, and this was made clearer. Ana, Lori and I were leading a group session with Si, Ta, Jo and Al. Of course, Ta was entranced by Ana, and he did not stop rising from his chair to twirl one of her curls or touch her face. Lori and I could not suppress our laughter; it is very comic to see Ta so lovey-dovey with Ana. We ended up turning away or hiding our faces in our arms to not laugh out loud while Ana was trying to sound as severe and firm as she possibly could. Ana wasn’t the only one in the middle of such a situation though. I was enthusiastically praising each student for their good work, but when I congratulated Al and high-fived him (he always asks me to high-five him since yesterday’s puzzle) Jo glared and began to misbehave. He began shouting, and booing, and even gave the middle finger to everyone. Ana told him to leave the classroom, but he stayed inside, beating the floor with fists and feet. His fit passed, but it also changed my perspective of him a lot. Jo always tried to help me with anything he did, and he was always disposed to give a hand to any teacher. But that slip just ruined the image of the helpful and nice student.

I thought teases and jokes about love ended with teenage. The therapists at Centro “2 de abril” prove my hypothesis wrong. They do not say it openly, but they imply of a “love triangle” I am stuck in with Al and Jo at its corner. They don’t try to make it awkward for me, but they are evidently amused by the new dynamic among the elder students due to my temporary stay. I have the feeling I am disrupting their daily lives in a different way from the others, mostly because of their age. Whereas the others run the risk of becoming spoiled under my affection, these two run the risk of an emotional rollercoaster. Al is a giant teddy bear, and as innocent as a lamb. He constantly giggles when he is around me, and the teachers were amused by his obvious shyness and embarrassment around me. On the other hand, Jo is more violent and irritable, and he is very annoyed when I am with someone else, especially Al.
Something else that I am realizing, and hate to admit, is that I am beginning to have my own preferences among the children and teenagers. I have more fun with one, or a more pleasant time with another. I repress a slight reluctance at watching one, or hold back from recoiling while cleaning another. I sense the other teachers have their personal preferences as well. But the signs that reveal their tastes are subtle, and catch my eye only subliminally. I hope I do not show any obvious signs. In truth, I hope my personal taste stops to grow and spread once and for all. However, I know the latter wish is unrealistic, since I am a human who has emotions and expressions. And the best I can do is compose myself and do not let myself slip.

From running after To, catching Si from falling, balancing between two teenage boys, among all other things, my spelling and grammar mistakes are worsening (thank goodness I have the “backspace” key). Good night, and yay for another day!

Day 8

           I was happily munching on my lunch as I waited for Josefina, relaxing under the warm rays of the sun, when suddenly an anxiously hurried Josefina appeared in front of me. “Hola Se Jeong. Cancele la sesion de terapia con Bosito hoy. Vamos directamente al centro.” Those were her exact words, and I scurried behind her, my heart increasing thumping from the urge in her voice, the queerness of the situation. What had happened that made her so nervous, caused her to cancel a session with the little sweetheart Bo?

           What a way to begin a workday! As Josefina drove in a forcedly calm manner, she explained the cause of the tumult. Half an hour ago, when she finally excused herself from the kindergartners’ needs to answer the chain of calls Pati was making, Josefina was shocked to hear that Pati was locked outside the house, with Mu left all alone inside. This morning, when Ta arrived, Pati had run out to open the gate. Mu must have mischievously locked the door from inside. Thus, though Pati had taken her keys, she could not enter the house. And Mu, who is one of the students who knows how the indoor lock works, could not manage to open the door for Pati, though he tried. His sudden loss of capability must have most likely been due to a state of nervousness. The teachers and I deduced Mu wanted to open the door, let Pati and Ta in the house, because he cooperated when Pati gave directions such as, “Mu, try to slide the lock open, my love,” and he also “desperately” reached out to Pati when she extended her hand to Mu from the window. I did my best to soothe the director, reassuring her worst worries and affirming the best outcomes in the scenario. By the time the director and I reached the center, Mu had been locked in for forty-five minutes. Thankfully, Pati had locked the door opening to the back of the house; this meant Mu did not escape from Pati’s constant attention and watch. If anything happened to him, Pati would see it, and help could be called for immediately (although the help would not reach Mu until the door was forced open). It took ten additional minutes for the man to break the key lock and allow us to comfort a much shaken and scared Mu. The poor child was so dazed he hardly touched his lunch. Believe me, for Mu to reject his food, he was extremely upset and shocked.

           All the therapists agreed I have seen all the possible worst scenarios, situations even they had never experienced before. It was as if good fortune had turned away from the center, they say, and that I was the only luck time had brought to them this month. They claim they are genuinely thankful and glad that my internship fell at this time, because they really needed another pair of hands, legs, head, and eyes. As for me… As I noted last time, I feel as if I am receiving training and learning so much in so many different aspects. I already do chores in my home such as washing dishes and taking out the trash. But I had never raked leaves, and it has been a while since I last swept the floor with a broom (I use the vacuum cleaner at home). I had also never personally cleaned pee, and I feel that my turn to change diapers might arrive soon.

           Br’s depression was even worse than yesterday. He lost all his appetite, does not feel joy in purposely running around and out of the house, and sings melancholic songs with lyrics such as “No me dejes solo ahi.” He only accepted to eat to his pasta when I spoonfed him. But I am taking a lot of care to not spoil him, to not overdose him with abundant attentive affection. The point really struck me when I was feeding him today. I always check, asking him whether he wants more food or does not feel hungry anymore. Nonetheless, he would keep accepting to eat when I presented the fork stuffed with pasta, even as I noted the slowed pace of his chewing. I stopped giving him food when the demotivated chewing persisted. People eat that way only when they do not feel like eating, when they feel as if the food they are swallowing is choking them. I suspected Br continued eating unprotestingly because he enjoyed hogging the care I was giving him. I understand he needs the love and care, and all the signs of affection and support he can receive. However, I also think he should not abuse of other people’s kindness. Br does not need me to stay within every single second of his time at the center, especially when there are seven other children who may need my help more urgently.

           You know what I realized? It has been a tremendously long time ago since I last completed a puzzle. I had escaped from Br’s grip (with the director’s help) when Al popped up in front of me. I was confused when I first saw him hand me a Winnie the Pooh puzzle, but then I understood he wanted me to play with him. Forty pieces are not that difficult to figure out. But to guide someone to put the pieces of a puzzle together is not the easiest task ever. I didn’t really know how to help without ending up placing all the puzzle pieces by myself. Despite my best intentions, I confess I probably finished the puzzle, though I have to credit myself for having successfully aided Al in placing a fifth of the pieces alone. So ha! I didn’t fail quite completely. As I high-fived Al and applauded him enthusiastically for ordering the puzzle back in place, I realized how much the students appreciate tactile signs of affection. They really like the teachers to congratulate them with hugs and kisses and high-fives. They also love auditory stimuli, such as songs and cheers. Auditory… Oh! That reminds me. Did I tell you how bright Si is with songs? He has a great sense of rhythm, and manages to hum the tunes he hears almost at first hear. It sort of impresses me, because he has a good sense of pitch as well. Hm, who knows, maybe he has a Savant syndrome, with a talent and extraordinary ability for music.

           Today, for P.E. time, the teachers and I set up a circuito de gimnasia for the children. It consisted of a slightly serpentine path (to train balancing), a cave-like tunnel (to bend down on four feet to pass through), and a mini trampoline. I did not participate in the course; only the students performed the sequence of obstacles. Nevertheless, I think I can safely state that I have had an ample share of sports and workout this last week and past few days. Running around the house, training my reflexes, helping/forcing children to stand up by lifting them up, sweeping the floor, and all the rest and anything new that may arise… No, I promise, I have had a good share and catching up of any sport I may have lost.

           Oh! Oh! Guess what? I tamed the ones who were violent to me! (Except for Mu, who thrashes me to the side as a hammerthrow player does unintentionally, because he is not aware of his strength.) Fe did not pull my hair once, nor did he throw a fit at me because he wanted to watch “Barney” (I am beginning to seriously loathe that program). He asks me silently and in a civilized manner, by pointing at the television or bringing me the pictogram “Quiero mirar TV.” Even Si put aside his wildness for a while at the end of the day. Si became excessively jealous during our time in the backyard, because I was mostly either with Br, who twisted my fingers as he gripped my hand, or with Mu, whom I was continually hauling off the floor where he lay posing as a model. He came towards me, held my hand, and led me away in a remote corner. There, he plopped down and simply played with my hands, clasping them with his tiny fingers, humming and occasionally looking at me straight in the eyes. I was surprised, very surprised, and later pleased. Si used to be very capricious with me, and maybe he will return to his usual violent mode tomorrow. But at least once, today, he was an angel and asked me for my care and affection in an appropriate and proper manner. Instead of beating and kicking (he had done it earlier today, during lunch), he took my hand and engaged in a peaceful pastime. I was touched, really, to have seen this side of Si at least once. He even kissed me (or I think it was a kiss, because he put his lips against my cheek), a tenderness he does not show often. One thing did bother me though. When his mother arrived, he refused to listen to her, neither giving her a kiss nor a look nor anything acknowledging her; instead, he rummaged through the plastic bag she was holding, scavenging for food (or so she claims).

           It amazes me how the children resume their spoiled and bad behavior when they are around their parents. The parents unintentionally fuel the undesired behavior. As parents, they have trouble saying “no,” seeing their children upset, and they give in to the children’s desires by paying for the consequences. It hurts me to see this happen. But I know it applies not only to children with autism, but with people in general. As people, we tend to abuse of the things that we take for granted, or that are given to us when we ask for them. I don’t mean to sound negative. But I am putting a realistic perspective on life. An overly quantity of anything is unhealthy, not for the best, and the principle accounts from strictness to kindness.

Day 7

And in for my second week! Yay!

Where to begin? Even though there were less children than there were supposed to come, the classes were as difficult to handle, if not harder. Why? Let's say there are some complications at home for nearly all the children, and those who have no problems at home are affected by their peers' restlessness.
As yet, I have never seen Mu arrive early to his morning 1:1 class. He came twenty-seven minutes late, which was an improvement from Thursday's forty minutes. Mu is definitely not a morning person, and he is an even stronger hater of Monday mornings. The only time he was enthusiastic was during his breakfast time. Although he was given to eat, he became grumpier and grumpier, because we had run low of supplies of cookies, giving him toast with butter instead, and offered him only a half-cup of milk, because we ran out of milk as well. Oh! That reminds me. Did I ever describe how Mu asks for his breakfast? I believe I had already explained the use of pictographs; this is exactly the means of communication Mu has to employ to ask for his breakfast. The teacher presents him a board on which are placed the pictographs for food (in today's case: toast) and for milk. Mu is expected to hand the teacher the pictograph indicating what he wants to receive next, whether a gulp of milk or a morsel of food. How can the teacher tell whether the communication was successful or not? From the student's expression and reaction to what he is given. I have seen the pictographs in play with Mu, and Si, and To, and a couple of other children. And it makes me proud to see how effectively the children are able to communicate, at least when they are asking for food. Hm, after all, maybe food is the strongest motivation device.
After his breakfast, Mu was grumpier from his disappointment from his dissatisfaction. He would not open his eyes, and refuse to look at April or me when we gave him instructions. At any given opportunity, at any time April or I reached out for another work material, or did not look at him, Mu would slide off his stool and roll on the floor. April was very frustrated, because Mu was to leave at 10h30 for school. With his belated arrival and sluggishness, hardly any advancements could be made. Furthermore, Fe always came early lately.
Fe's caprices have worsened during the past days. The problem with Fe is the chaos at home. His mother and stepfather is currently moving, and Fe is therefore making constant back-and-forths from his mother's house and his biological father's house. The instability disrupts Fe very much, especially his sleep, and the child is not a happy camper, not in the least. Today as well, Fe had his TV mania attack, and he ended up beating and kicking the floor, and squeaking endlessly. Thank goodness Ta came! Fe loves to watch Ta, always following him with his eyes. Once Ta came in, Fe was calmed and lulled into a sleepy trance reflecting his sleepless night.
Ta can be so sweet, even though he is not cooperative at all when he works. He gets distracted and frustrated very easily, and is upset after a maximum of four trials to complete the given task. The problem with Ta is that his irritation always makes him seek comfort and caresses. And when Ana is not here, I am the substitute. While I struggle to keep Fe awake and doing his work, I have a constant tug at my head and arm as Ta asks for a kiss or hug, or gives me cheek a silent kiss. Ah! What am I supposed to do?
The morning flew by, and soon, it was time for lunch. Lunch time is one of the most chaotic periods of the day. I would almost rather be leading a lunch meeting. The therapists always send me to eat my lunch at 12 sharp, during which I can have five minutes at most of peaceful eating time. I used to gulp down my lunch, but the gulping down didn't help and was rather worse. I decided to eat slowly, chewing and taking my time. Because no matter at what speed I eat, I end up running here and there to help this child hold his fork/spoon properly, or opening the door, or greeting a parent and the son, or heating up a newcomer's lunch, or running to the living room to check on the children watching television, or jumping up at a sudden shriek or scream, or sparing the teachers from a toilet accident by rushing a suspicious child to the bathroom. Yes, as you may consider yourself, lunch is not the most relaxing period of my day. But it is one of the eventful (fun?) somehow.
Br was in a worryingly depressed state today. He had experienced two or three days of a euphoria, manic stage, which left him in a severe depressed mood. He seemed so unstable, so internally shaken! He would not let go of my hand, and kept calling me and all the teachers his mother's name and asking to go home. He held my hand, gripping and twisting my fingers in a nervous manner. I kept trying to appease him, kissing him and cuddling him and comforting him, reassuring him he will be back home shortly. But Br is not an idiot, he knew how to read the time indicated by the clock. He did allow me to soothe him, however, and left the other teachers free to look after the other students rather than hogging all the attention for himself.
Si is exhibiting dangerously frequent episodes of self-harm. He is extremely unstable and has even more drastic bipolar mood shifts. He eats nothing, refuses all food including cookies and chips he enjoyed. I'm scared I am spoiling him, though unintentionally. He yearns for my attention, confirmed all the teachers. And he throws fit when I stay with someone else for "too long." He actually comes to look for me, leading me away and into a corner with only him by grabbing my hand. Today as well, he ended up lying on my stomach to keep me all alone, for himself. Lori had to come lift him off in order to save me from his hold.
Guess what we did today? Mondays are baking days, and today we bakes scones! Well, Ana's recipe for scones reminded me more of pao de queijo, but they were still delicious! Lori and I were sneaking into the kitchen to steal some, hidden from the children's eyes. Ana was pleased, and she chuckled constantly - her chuckling did make Fe really angry in the end, who wrongly thought she was laughing at him. You know, Fe always laughs at his peers who angrily protest and whine when forced to do activities they do not want. It seemed ironic to me, therefore, that he was so upset when he thought Ana laughed at him when he was protesting and whining at the end of television time.
To improved a lot lately! But he still relapses into his throwing things on the ground sometimes, especially when he wants to be at the spotlight of attention. I am growing immune to his compulsion, however, because paying attention is a reward that reinforces To's behaviour. It's challenging for me to be with To, because we are in the "breaking-the-rebellion" phase and have to act extra firm with him. It's challenging for me to be tougher and colder. To's talent in tearing up only increases the difficulty level. That little boy is training me in my impulses as well. I am the quickest teacher, and therefore am always the one who is running after him to prevent him reaching rooms with tons of things at hand's reach he can throw to the floor. My reflexes are ameliorating, so much, I might end up being able to catch a fly with a flick of my hand.
Oh, I'm worried about Fr. He has entered puberty, and became the most aggressive and rebellious troublemaker. As a growing teenager, he is also becoming increasingly strong. He is impossible to control. The director shared her concerns she fears that she might have to expel him from Centro "2 de abril". I hope this won't happen. Fr does love the center a lot, I can feel it. And he has a high intellectual level for an autistic child. As long as he does not have another violent outburst, he won't be dismissed. Please, do calm down, Fr. Please calm down.
I think that is pretty much it. I think I'm starting to acquire a cold, and should probably be in bed by this time. But if I don't record the day's events daily, I will lose track and will have too much catching up to do. I kept my promise to myself, and I am off to sleep now.

Day 6

Saturday, May 24th, 2014

I can hardly believe it. It's been one week since I began my internship! So many things happened, and I feel as if my last day at UAS was ages ago. But the calendar does not lie, and I know that it has only been one week since the many fresh memories have taken place. 

Mhm, I do work on Saturdays as well, from 9h30 to 12. But my Saturday jobs are easy. I only have to take care of one child at a time, first with Jm and then with Cs. While the director works on "academics" with one, I work on social learning with the other sibling. It is not difficult, especially if the children remain as well-behaved as they were today. There really isn't much to write, for the two hours and a half I spent on Saturday were not very active nor eventful. But I feel that I should still record something, for the sake of keeping daily entries of my internship.

During the first half hour, I talked with Josefina. Our conversation was mostly based on my thoughts, emotions and concerns, anything that may have arisen during the first week. Then, she would also tell me different anecdotes, to cheer me up or distract me when she deemed it necessary. I think I should consider writing a book on "How to Take Care of Children," because I learn many advice on the subject. For example, I know how to clean the mess on a carpet when a child could not hold it to the bathroom. First, pour baking soda over the puddle, because baking soda absorbs the pee and prevents the carpet from acquiring a stain. Second, spray liquid or vinegar, because the acidic content of these liquids minimize the odor that might emanate the next morning from any persistent pee. Of course, the most important part when there is a peeing accident is to clean it immediately. The longer it is left on the carpet, the more difficult it is to expect a nice smell in the room the next day, most naturally. Oh, believe me, all the things I learn from my internship are much more varied and from a broader range of topics than at school.
Jm and Cs came pretty much on time. I was surprised I could see a striking difference between the siblings and the other children I met earlier this week, differences I had not noticed upon my first encounter with the siblings a week earlier. Jm and Cs are much more connected with the world, though their obliviousness to their surrounding is much more evident when such is the case. Jm and Cs are able to engage in verbal communication. Cs is capable of answering my questions, or to hold a short conversation before she wanders off as her eye catches a detail that captivates her attention. I played dress-up with her, and I clearly remember her answering me clearly, "El celeste," when I asked her which lipstick she wanted me to apply on her. Jm is not as coherent or intelligible, because half of his language is composed of babbling or repeats of my directions. Nonetheless, I can sense he understands and hears me. Why? When I asked him to stop manipulating the DVD player recklessly and carelessly (FW and RW every two minutes), he repeated, "No lo toques asi," and stared at me, and did not resume the FW-RW reaction chain for ten minutes or so. By the way, the therapists were really happy when they saw the children staring or looking at me, because these signs demonstrated my ability to catch their attention, though fleetingly. It also showed that I could trespass the thresholds of the children's worlds, and was able to establish a connection with them.
Although it was rewarding to listen to them respond to me, it also gave me equal frustration when they did not answer me. I knew (or hoped) they were not doing it of bad intentions. But imagine having someone not answer you back, especially when you are the only two participants in the dialogue? Well, it's okay. I am getting used to being ignored, though I am not entirely sure whether this is a good habit for me in the future. But one thing is sure: By the end of the three weeks of my internship, I will have grown a tolerance and patience for people that is even greater than the levels I had previously. Mm yes, that is indeed possible.

Day 5

Note: This post is relating the happenings of yesterday. I took the freedom of delaying the uploading of this post, because I wanted to take time to review it. I confess having written it in a state of slight-lightheadedness, and I did not want this to impede anything I wrote.

Friday, May 23rd, 2014

Possibly, people have been expecting a post similar to mine today from me at some point in time. If such were the case, then you would be satisfied to hear about me relate the occurrences of today. I have gone through the wildest and most uncontrollable day yet so far today. I think I have been assaulted by each and all of the students, who displayed different and new whims. Maybe it was the weather, the terrible stormy weather, that stormed their impulses and aggressiveness. Maybe it was the windy night yesterday, which might have bothered their sleep and turned them more anxious, grumpier and less willing to work. Whatever the reason, it caused me much trouble and nervousness as well. It is not as if I am badly injured. Some hurt more than others, but none are Superman. No, what I was the most worried about and scared of was my own reaction. At any potential danger or attack, my first and immediate impulse is to push the source of discomfort or fear away. I feared my reflexive reaction might hurt the children, though unintentionally, or, even worse, destroy any bit of trust I might have fostered in them in my regard.

It began with Fe. As soon as he arrived at the institution, he went to the television and began rocking back and forth on his feet, expecting somebody to turn on “Barney” for him. Ana and I were working with Mu, and we therefore ignored Fe’s demand, asking him to take a seat on the mini sofa and wait patiently for his turn. Fe did not listen to us and persevered in his stand in front of the sofa, as he often does. When he started growing more restless and louder, Ana and I agreed by a mute glance at each other that I would quiet him down and accompany him to the sofa, where we would play with a toy. I walked towards Fe, and extended my hand to him. “Veni, Fe. Nos sentamos y jugamos. Te parece?” As he usually does, Fe objected; he walked with me towards the sofa, thinking I was asking him to sit down to watch the television (we try to teach the children to sit down to watch the television – the polite and “proper” way), and when he realized such was not my motive he would walk back to the television or snatch a random pictogram to communicate his yearn for television time. I should have foretold from Fe’s unusual perseverance that something was coming, but I didn’t. Five minutes later, after numerous backs-and-forths, Fe lost his control and grabbed at two strands of my hair, and pulled with all his might and strength. I was so taken by surprise! I don’t know how I managed to not push him back immediately, grabbed at the hands that were attacking me! Maybe it was indeed the surprise that stopped any action or word to cross my mind. What did I do, then? I stood up, and my height forced Fe to let go of his grip. Was it me, or did a look of surprise momentarily pass Fe’s face? Anyway, it took me a second to recover and saying firmly, “Fe, no. No se hace eso a la gente. Vuelva a tu asiento, inmediatamente. Ya.” Fe returned to his seat effectively, and stayed quiet. But the peace was too short. A few minutes later, he picked up from where he left off, and even began going to Ana, who is the softest of the teachers (apart from me, possibly). He began hitting Ana, who was busy with keeping Mu sitting (he was continuing to slide off the stool) and working. In the attempt to help her from Fe’s increasing hits, I left Mu’s side and kneeled down in front of Fe. Fe stared at the space behind me before he turned his TV-wrath on me. I tried to ignore him, I really did, because any action that transpierces me might reinforce his behavior, act as a sign of his triumph, might impede and blur my future relationship with him. Ana tried to stop him as well, but a foot of Mu’s stool landed on hers and caused a pain that did not release her even as I left the center at the end of the day. In the end, after much twisting away and ignoring, Fe backed down and resumed sitting on the sofa with a blank stare outside the sliding window. As I calmed myself and recovered my slowed pulse and breath, I tried to control my emotions, to not lose my temper on Mu, who was even less attentive to directions than usual. I don’t know how I managed to pass through the morning with my tolerance at such a tense state.

I would like to say the afternoon passed by without a similar episode, but that would be a lie. Many other students acted in a violent and whiny way. Most notable was Si. Si slid even more drastically from manic to calm state. He would be happily holding my hand happily while bouncing on the therapeutic ball one moment; then, suddenly, a shadow would submerge his face and he would enter a stormy mood in which he would shout and roll and kick. Whereas his blows landed on the floor most of the time, some today reached my arms, chest and face; my nose still hurts from the headbutt I received, and my left cheek is sensible even to a light touch. Si, who can turn into an adorable angel, became a devil in his moments of wildness. My only comfort is that I did not have to deal with Fr. Josefina and the other therapists take extreme care in not exposing me to Fr when he enters his bursts of uncontrollable temper and aggressive rebellion; I did have a glimpse, however, when he shoved me aside against the wall to storm outside in the garden.

Oh, I cannot end my post on such a negative note, because I did have a pleasant time as well. I would not let my struggles to defend myself overshadow my laughs with the children. Besides, I already forgave all of them. Most repent, and most have their moments of caprices because of one reason or another, whether overdose or lack of medication, or even a sleepless evening. Nevertheless, I’d like to spend some time expanding on nice moments as well, moments that make me chuckle and hopefully bring back a smile on you readers’ lips.

My morning was alleviated somewhat, and aggravated my stress on the other, when Ta arrived. As you might recall, Ta’s arrival worsens Mu’s sluggishness, as he becomes jealous of further sharing the teachers’ attention and care with one more student. But Ta is a sweetheart, especially once he overcomes his shy embarrassment and strangers’ fear. It makes me feel all warm inside when Ta comes to me as well to receive kisses and hugs, because Ta is one of the most reserved and distant of the children. That he includes me as a source of comfort truly warms my heart (no one will ever rival Ana, who is his favourite, but I am the only person he appreciates apart from her and his family). Basically, my struggle with Ta was to ask him to follow directions, because he was too busy walking back and forth from Ana to me, wandering and collecting hugs and kisses under the unhappy eyes of Mu who would roll on the floor discontentedly. What a paradoxical situation, really! Fighting Ta to stop him from asking for love.

           My afternoon was frozen, literally. I’m surprised I did not end up an ice cube. I spent two hours and a half outside. How? The highlight activity of the day was visiting the zoo. Before we went to the zoo, though, students and teachers gathered the leaves fallen from the autumn trees in the terrace. I don’t think I’ve amassed that many leaves in a while! Swipe, stoop down, collect, throw away. And start again! For forty-five minutes. I just had time to escape into the house, rubbing my heads against one another as I leaned close to the electric heater, when I heard Br’s excited “Tadam! Vamos al zoologico!” I cringed as I blamed myself for not bringing a coat; I had the brilliant idea of contending myself with a cotton knit and the sweater the teachers gave me as a welcome present with the logo “2 de abril” (their kind attention touched me so much!). Although the director gave me the option to choose between staying behind and accompanying the expedition, I unhesitatingly chose the latter, knowing the teachers would need all the help they can to control the bunch of children. Thus the director stayed behind with To and Fr while Br, Jo, Si and Mu took a stroll at the zoo.

           It was heartrending to leave To behind, even though it was for a good cause. Why do I say this? The expedition to the zoo was planned for To. Initially a reward, it became a punishment later when he misbehaved. The director had asked my opinion (I know, I feel so special!) on whether I thought the zoo might work as a good reinforcement to encourage To to behave properly, and I had replied “yes.” The original plan was to reward To for his following directions and not throwing anything on the floor. But following his leaks and swiping the pen holder and his work materials on the floor, we had to abstain him from going to his strongly desired zoo. When I saw the tears mounting in his eyes as he watched us leave without him, I had to quickly turn my head away to avoid weakening. Oh! I do hope that next week, To will earn his trip to the zoo! I do hope that he understands he is capable of earning trust and his rewards when he puts in the effort. I have to say his progress gives me hope. Hope that I will be present when he has his first trip to the zoo with the crew of Centro “2 de abril.”

           I’m surprised Ana, Lori and I were not arrested while we were at the zoo. The children were so loud and wild! Well, at the same time, the zookeepers and guards all know we are from the institution, as the children and teachers are among the most frequent and periodic visitors. And we were the only crazy people to venture out of the coziness and warmth of the house to saunter in the zoo. Therefore, there was no one who could file a complaint against us. But here, let me give you a glimpse: Jo stampeded around, flapping his arms and quacking to scare the animals enclosed behind the gates; Si dashed from one cage to another, dancing and screaming at 70 decibels, pouting and fidgeting his lips with his fingers; Mu climbed on top of random benches, lying down in a model pose, deciding to take a nap with his pants falling halfway down his butt; and Br was a walking fanfare, with his theme line “Tadam! Quiero hacer pipi o algo asi,” causing shocked or anxious glances from passersby who hurriedly scurried away from us (who, I admit, were desperately trying to suppress laughing to tears). How would you have felt if you had perceived us in the zoo or street? I won’t judge your reaction, whatever it might have been.

           As you might assess, my day was not all storms and hits. I had a pleasant time, and it made me think even more about the nature of communication and human behavior. It made me ponder even more on my own attitude and actions. I’m still scared, and I do hope I reacted appropriately: not too tough to scare the children and stop them from approaching me again, yet not too soft to breed the space for more and worse episodes of caprices. Well, I did do my best. I cannot be good at everything from the beginning. I just have to work to make myself better, and think on the areas I have to make improvements.