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.