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.