Below is a reflection written by volunteer teacher, Doug Orofino, on his time teaching the children at NPH Honduras.
Lo que es mi Camino, Lo que Llevo Yo
The Path I Walk:
Each morning I set myself upon the path which winds me down to the sun-bathed Escuela Primaria. Glancing across the deep green rows of the Ranch's Hortaliza (garden) I can smell the pine trees which so laboriously clothe the mountains. Sometimes when the world is the perfect blend of silk white cloud, azure blue sky, and sleepy morning sun, I find myself stumbling for thought, wondering, "What in the world led me here?" There is no easy answer as to what kind of person finds themselves here at NPH Honduras, breathing, and living, and loving is this unique home. And although we all come from different backgrounds, Honduras won't let you stay the same. We all find ourselves being opened up, shifted around, and put back together. I'd like to think its for the better.
I think the biggest thing that has changed for me since Rancho Santa Fe is my perspective on what it is to have "a real life." I once would have told you that people who are living 'real lives' have steady jobs, apartments or homes, heath insurance, are no longer claimed as dependents by their parents during tax season, and enjoy three things they would have hated as kids, i.e. wine tasting, antiquing, hiking for no reason but to walk, etc. Now, I am much less certain. Honduras presents a glimpse of an alternative lifestyle. A life where swimming in drinkable water is an unspeakable sign of wealth. Where making $2.50 a day is not uncommon. This life is perhaps more "real" than a life of new cars every 6 or 7 years, steady jobs, masters degrees, and student debts. More people live a life akin to what I have seen here, than what I know in my personal experience.
The Things I Carry:
So what implications do these thoughts bring into my day to day life? The kids I work with will eventually graduate, hopefully study in the city for a secondary school experience, and move on to the real Honduras. It is so important to equip these children with something to help them succeed when the stakes are so high. How else can we even hope to attempt to break through the oppressive cycle of poverty that has threaded itself into the very nervous system of this glorious, humid country?
It is hard to see the long term affects of our work, but we must have faith that we are helping these children create the necessary opportunity for an empowering, dignified future.
It is an easy thing to get stuck in the mud of, "let's learn our tablas (times tables)" or "why can't they just understand?!" The more demanding expectation is to walk through these struggles, delivering, day by day, the instruction these beautiful, young people so desperately need to create their own futures, where the consequences of lacking basic education are imbued with danger. So we press onward, and when the sun has set, in the darkness lightning dancing through the broken, clouded sky, I think I might just love Honduras enough to do it all again tomorrow.
Friday, April 11, 2014
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Love, Security, Responsibility, Work, and Sharing
All of our International Volunteers make a strong and lasting impression on the children of NPH. At times we are lucky to have a particularly talented volunteer join the NPH family with strengths and skills that create a deep and lasting impact on our organization.
Hunter Johnson joined NPH Honduras as a volunteer Communication Officer, and after completing his volunteer year he was hired to create a new series of videos to showcase the NPH homes. He visited all the NPH homes, capturing beautiful video footage of our kids, staff, NPH leadership, and programs. You can see the video he created to celebrate NPH's recent 60th anniversary as well as his other videos here:
https://www.youtube.com/user/nphinternational, and read about his adventure below.
Thank you, Hunter. We appreciate the work you have done with NPH.
I still can’t quite believe it. Three things that I’ve come to enjoy most in life are creative video making, traveling to unknown territories, and goofing off with adorable little kids. So when NPH International first approached me with the proposal of a project that is essentially the ultimate combination of all three seemingly unrelated elements, it felt like a dream. Then I agreed to do it, and it was no longer this far-fetched fantasy. It became an incredible, worthwhile reality.
So, what is this task, you wonder? It’s rather straightforward when written out clearly: NPH wants new videos that highlight the programs, properties and people of its nine homes across Latin America and the Caribbean. Working as a one-man camera crew, I would spend a week at each of these locations to capture everything. Then I would edit the footage together to produce a collection of videos for the NPH website and to help with general fundraising. This is what I signed up for, but, as you might imagine, I got a whole lot more out of it than what was listed on the job description.
Let’s rewind a second.
I first came to Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos™ as a volunteer in January 2012 to work as the Communication Officer at the home in Honduras. I clearly remember the initial feelings of being overwhelmed and intimidated by the foreign language, demanding work schedule and large quantity of kids that engulfed me from the first day I set foot here. But, I also recall the following months with equal vividness: greatly improving my Spanish language skills; learning to manage my job with competence and efficiency; and finally, abandoning the notion of our children as a giant number and beginning to know them on a more personal and profound level. Now, this place feels like home. I walk around the property with the same comfort I’d walk around my house back in the States. But still, even with all this newfound confidence, I can’t say I was entirely prepared for the epic journey that lay ahead. The fact of the matter was, it took all that time and effort for me to become comfortable at one NPH home, now I was asked to go to eight more.
Nevertheless, I finished my time as a volunteer in Honduras, packed up my clothes and camera equipment for four months of travel to nine countries, and on May 3rd of 2013, I set off on the exciting new adventure.
Well… not quite…
One positive quality this journey reinforced was patience, and I was tested on it right from the very start. You always have to have a plan, but you also have to know that this plan could be delayed, altered, or totally scrapped at any moment. So, two failed attempts to cross the border into El Salvador due to rejected passport stamps and one minor bus crash later, it was actually on May 6th of 2013 that I set off on the exciting new adventure, this time deciding to start the journey in Guatemala instead.
Okay, fast forward again.
This time even further, to where I am currently: in Honduras, sitting in my office, having completed the long tour to all eight other countries and in the midst of what is sure to be a lengthy and detailed editing process. Looking back (literally) at my visits to the NPH homes as I browse the 700-plus gigabytes worth of video footage and photographs, I am now removed enough from the big trip to be able to reflect upon the people I met and moments I experienced that all add up to a larger, more comprehensive understanding of the enormous NPH family.
Since returning to Honduras the question I’ve been asked most often by the children is which home I liked the best. I can’t respond to this question because I simply don’t have an answer. No single home jumps out at me - instead, all the homes are brought to mind. Every home is unique in its size, architectural design, and rhythm of life. The individual children, employees, and volunteers that live and work at each NPH home combine to produce a special environment that distinguishes it from the rest. So, when I’m asked this question, how can I respond? The homes seem so different they’re almost incomparable.
As I dig deeper and deeper into the video archive I’ve begun to notice a pattern not quite so obvious at first-glance. My video footage is organized by country and then further broken down into folders sorted by category: school, nutrition, work, healthcare, free time, religion, etc. Looking through these folders for each country I’ve made a profound observation: The homes are a thousand times more similar than they could ever be different.
Looking beyond the exoskeleton of the superficial characteristics of the homes and seeing right into the heart of the organization is where the real truth lies. What is incredibly uniform across all the countries is the one, omnipresent philosophy that the founder Father William B. Wasson laid out for us. Love, Security, Responsibility, Work, and Sharing: these core principles are smoothly woven in many layers into the video footage I’ve collected. The reality is, while the homes may be in different countries and the children come from various backgrounds, the reoccurring trends in the footage I’ve captured goes to show just how in sync and harmonious these places truly are.
Let me give you an example. When I’m editing a video and I’m looking for a shot of a happy child, the fact that I have literally hundreds of shots to choose from which depict children from all the homes joyously smiling at the camera, playing freely with their friends, or laughing in the arms of a caregiver is a definite sign that NPH does good work. It’s a definite sign of the organization’s consistency. This is the principle of Love, captured in its many forms.
The same can be said of the other NPH pillars. Security is a shot of a young caregiver in Nicaragua tucking in a toddler in at night. Responsibility is a clip of a girl studying in Peru for her exam the following week. Work is a recording of three teenage boys in Mexico harvesting fresh tomatoes to serve for lunch. Sharing is in a video of a child in the Dominican Republic happily splitting her juice amongst five of her closest friends. Of course the contexts in which these principles manifest themselves is always diverse, but if a picture is worth a thousand words, imagine what nearly a terabyte of high definition video footage says about the values of the NPH family.
Apart from the actual video being a testament to the mission of NPH, the many personal memories from the trip deeply engrained in my mind also continue to resonate within me. Visiting this many countries so quickly produces a whirlwind of recollections, and some things, unfortunately, blend together. But others don’t. I met so many good-natured people who come to NPH to dedicate their time to do something far beyond them in scope, but when taken one small step at a time, progress can be seen. Some people stay for six months, others stay for 30 years. Simply being in the presence of these individuals and witnessing their dedication, it’s impossible not to remember them and become inspired by their determination.
Interacting with the children in each country was the most significant part of the journey. In each country I roamed the property freely with my camera, attempting to take video of the kids in their most natural states. Of course, sometimes things weren’t as genuine as I hoped, and kids would put on Oscar-worthy performances for the camera. Like for example in Haiti, when 12 boys “prepared for bed” as they stood in two perfect lines and vigorously brushed their teeth, staring directing into the camera lens and trying their best to smile without drooling toothpaste onto their T-shirts. But much more often than that, the moments were truly authentic, and this honesty is felt when playing back the videos.
Some of my favorite memories are the times I shared with kids without the camera as a barrier between us. Usually there was at least one child who decided to become my best friend/personal assistant in each home, carrying my tripod and camera bag everywhere and laughing uproariously at each one of my really-not-funny jokes. Some children opened up to me and told me their pre-NPH story. Most didn’t, and we just took each other for who we were, in that moment. I had so many identities over the course of the tour. These have included uoontair (Spanish pronunciation of my name), Cazador (the word “hunter” in Spanish), Hamster (because I guess it sounds like Hunter?), and my personal favorite, the original blue Power Ranger, as I convinced (I mean, really convinced) about 20 young boys in Bolivia that this was my previous occupation before coming to NPH.
The travels were a true test for me on many levels. Both physically and mentally, things could be demanding. Mentally, because the sheer amount I was expected to document sometimes seemed enormously overwhelming to do working alone. Physically, in that I may have been sick with some sort of illness for nearly half of my time on the road. But that part is over, and now that my reality is a more static one - very static as I find myself editing video at my desk for close to 8 hours a day – I can undeniably see the value in every moment I experienced during the voyage, as challenging or effortless as it was, and I wouldn’t change a thing even if I could.
When I think back at the four months I spent floating from one NPH home to the next, I feel blessed to have been given the opportunity to better know the breadth of the mission of the NPH family. I feel blessed to have been able to use my personal strengths and skills for a cause in which I truly believe. And finally, more than anything I feel blessed to have met and shared quality time with so many playful, curious, and motivated children who refuse to dwell on the unfortunate realities of their past and are ecstatic to receive a second chance at being a normal kid with an exciting and optimistic future.
Thank you, Hunter. We appreciate the work you have done with NPH.
I still can’t quite believe it. Three things that I’ve come to enjoy most in life are creative video making, traveling to unknown territories, and goofing off with adorable little kids. So when NPH International first approached me with the proposal of a project that is essentially the ultimate combination of all three seemingly unrelated elements, it felt like a dream. Then I agreed to do it, and it was no longer this far-fetched fantasy. It became an incredible, worthwhile reality.
So, what is this task, you wonder? It’s rather straightforward when written out clearly: NPH wants new videos that highlight the programs, properties and people of its nine homes across Latin America and the Caribbean. Working as a one-man camera crew, I would spend a week at each of these locations to capture everything. Then I would edit the footage together to produce a collection of videos for the NPH website and to help with general fundraising. This is what I signed up for, but, as you might imagine, I got a whole lot more out of it than what was listed on the job description.
Let’s rewind a second.
I first came to Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos™ as a volunteer in January 2012 to work as the Communication Officer at the home in Honduras. I clearly remember the initial feelings of being overwhelmed and intimidated by the foreign language, demanding work schedule and large quantity of kids that engulfed me from the first day I set foot here. But, I also recall the following months with equal vividness: greatly improving my Spanish language skills; learning to manage my job with competence and efficiency; and finally, abandoning the notion of our children as a giant number and beginning to know them on a more personal and profound level. Now, this place feels like home. I walk around the property with the same comfort I’d walk around my house back in the States. But still, even with all this newfound confidence, I can’t say I was entirely prepared for the epic journey that lay ahead. The fact of the matter was, it took all that time and effort for me to become comfortable at one NPH home, now I was asked to go to eight more.
Nevertheless, I finished my time as a volunteer in Honduras, packed up my clothes and camera equipment for four months of travel to nine countries, and on May 3rd of 2013, I set off on the exciting new adventure.
Well… not quite…
One positive quality this journey reinforced was patience, and I was tested on it right from the very start. You always have to have a plan, but you also have to know that this plan could be delayed, altered, or totally scrapped at any moment. So, two failed attempts to cross the border into El Salvador due to rejected passport stamps and one minor bus crash later, it was actually on May 6th of 2013 that I set off on the exciting new adventure, this time deciding to start the journey in Guatemala instead.
Okay, fast forward again.
This time even further, to where I am currently: in Honduras, sitting in my office, having completed the long tour to all eight other countries and in the midst of what is sure to be a lengthy and detailed editing process. Looking back (literally) at my visits to the NPH homes as I browse the 700-plus gigabytes worth of video footage and photographs, I am now removed enough from the big trip to be able to reflect upon the people I met and moments I experienced that all add up to a larger, more comprehensive understanding of the enormous NPH family.
Since returning to Honduras the question I’ve been asked most often by the children is which home I liked the best. I can’t respond to this question because I simply don’t have an answer. No single home jumps out at me - instead, all the homes are brought to mind. Every home is unique in its size, architectural design, and rhythm of life. The individual children, employees, and volunteers that live and work at each NPH home combine to produce a special environment that distinguishes it from the rest. So, when I’m asked this question, how can I respond? The homes seem so different they’re almost incomparable.
As I dig deeper and deeper into the video archive I’ve begun to notice a pattern not quite so obvious at first-glance. My video footage is organized by country and then further broken down into folders sorted by category: school, nutrition, work, healthcare, free time, religion, etc. Looking through these folders for each country I’ve made a profound observation: The homes are a thousand times more similar than they could ever be different.
Looking beyond the exoskeleton of the superficial characteristics of the homes and seeing right into the heart of the organization is where the real truth lies. What is incredibly uniform across all the countries is the one, omnipresent philosophy that the founder Father William B. Wasson laid out for us. Love, Security, Responsibility, Work, and Sharing: these core principles are smoothly woven in many layers into the video footage I’ve collected. The reality is, while the homes may be in different countries and the children come from various backgrounds, the reoccurring trends in the footage I’ve captured goes to show just how in sync and harmonious these places truly are.
Let me give you an example. When I’m editing a video and I’m looking for a shot of a happy child, the fact that I have literally hundreds of shots to choose from which depict children from all the homes joyously smiling at the camera, playing freely with their friends, or laughing in the arms of a caregiver is a definite sign that NPH does good work. It’s a definite sign of the organization’s consistency. This is the principle of Love, captured in its many forms.
The same can be said of the other NPH pillars. Security is a shot of a young caregiver in Nicaragua tucking in a toddler in at night. Responsibility is a clip of a girl studying in Peru for her exam the following week. Work is a recording of three teenage boys in Mexico harvesting fresh tomatoes to serve for lunch. Sharing is in a video of a child in the Dominican Republic happily splitting her juice amongst five of her closest friends. Of course the contexts in which these principles manifest themselves is always diverse, but if a picture is worth a thousand words, imagine what nearly a terabyte of high definition video footage says about the values of the NPH family.
Apart from the actual video being a testament to the mission of NPH, the many personal memories from the trip deeply engrained in my mind also continue to resonate within me. Visiting this many countries so quickly produces a whirlwind of recollections, and some things, unfortunately, blend together. But others don’t. I met so many good-natured people who come to NPH to dedicate their time to do something far beyond them in scope, but when taken one small step at a time, progress can be seen. Some people stay for six months, others stay for 30 years. Simply being in the presence of these individuals and witnessing their dedication, it’s impossible not to remember them and become inspired by their determination.
Interacting with the children in each country was the most significant part of the journey. In each country I roamed the property freely with my camera, attempting to take video of the kids in their most natural states. Of course, sometimes things weren’t as genuine as I hoped, and kids would put on Oscar-worthy performances for the camera. Like for example in Haiti, when 12 boys “prepared for bed” as they stood in two perfect lines and vigorously brushed their teeth, staring directing into the camera lens and trying their best to smile without drooling toothpaste onto their T-shirts. But much more often than that, the moments were truly authentic, and this honesty is felt when playing back the videos.
Some of my favorite memories are the times I shared with kids without the camera as a barrier between us. Usually there was at least one child who decided to become my best friend/personal assistant in each home, carrying my tripod and camera bag everywhere and laughing uproariously at each one of my really-not-funny jokes. Some children opened up to me and told me their pre-NPH story. Most didn’t, and we just took each other for who we were, in that moment. I had so many identities over the course of the tour. These have included uoontair (Spanish pronunciation of my name), Cazador (the word “hunter” in Spanish), Hamster (because I guess it sounds like Hunter?), and my personal favorite, the original blue Power Ranger, as I convinced (I mean, really convinced) about 20 young boys in Bolivia that this was my previous occupation before coming to NPH.
The travels were a true test for me on many levels. Both physically and mentally, things could be demanding. Mentally, because the sheer amount I was expected to document sometimes seemed enormously overwhelming to do working alone. Physically, in that I may have been sick with some sort of illness for nearly half of my time on the road. But that part is over, and now that my reality is a more static one - very static as I find myself editing video at my desk for close to 8 hours a day – I can undeniably see the value in every moment I experienced during the voyage, as challenging or effortless as it was, and I wouldn’t change a thing even if I could.
When I think back at the four months I spent floating from one NPH home to the next, I feel blessed to have been given the opportunity to better know the breadth of the mission of the NPH family. I feel blessed to have been able to use my personal strengths and skills for a cause in which I truly believe. And finally, more than anything I feel blessed to have met and shared quality time with so many playful, curious, and motivated children who refuse to dwell on the unfortunate realities of their past and are ecstatic to receive a second chance at being a normal kid with an exciting and optimistic future.
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Never underestimate the impact you are having...
Below is an excerpt from a wonderful reflection blog post by NPFS Haiti volunteer, Bridget Holtz.
Children are the hope of the world. This one is a carry-over from my time in Nicaragua – but if you are ever depressed, discouraged, weighed down by life, go look into the eyes of a child, sit and play with him or her. The energy and determination they possess and the joy in their smiles as they discover and share the excitements of their days will bring life and laughter.
Never underestimate the impact you are having. This is not meant to pressure us, but to keep us aware that we are being watched, our actions being measured as we profess a faith or a philosophy. Live out loud, in words and speech, in actions and in truth.
Laughter is healing. Laughter is hopeful. Laughter is intimacy. I knew I had reached a level of trust with the nurses in the clinic when we could laugh with each other. I was willing to make mistakes and sound ridiculous as I learned Creole and learned about Haitian life. Humor was a way to reach the one nurse who intimidated me the most. I am the best kind of target for teasing – I immediately fall for it and react strongly. So the laughter abounded throughout every day and put us at ease with each other. It also reminded me not to take myself so seriously.
Oh, Haiti, I miss you. I miss the genuine presence of each moment, the sun and the laughter and the sounds and the little hands and feet, the sweat and the tears and the chanting of my name and the full-body hugs of the little ones. The 7Up, the morning coffee, the baby cows mooing like they are full-grown, their mommas checking for cars before letting them cross to the pasture, the rice and the beans and the spice and the chicken, the refreshment of a cold shower at the end of a brutal day, the simplicity of life, the knowledge that one life could make others better. The determination of a people who refuse to give up, no matter what the cost, who fight for each moment and possess faith far beyond mine. Three nurses who showed me every day that if we have faith, hope and love, we have the tools to succeed. The bravery of young children who run after life with abandon, who dance and sing and love and rejoice and embrace each day with all they have. I pray that I can bring these and so many more tidbits into life here in the States, and that the depth of my heart will only serve to dignify, love and be present to those who are now before me.
Children are the hope of the world. This one is a carry-over from my time in Nicaragua – but if you are ever depressed, discouraged, weighed down by life, go look into the eyes of a child, sit and play with him or her. The energy and determination they possess and the joy in their smiles as they discover and share the excitements of their days will bring life and laughter.
Never underestimate the impact you are having. This is not meant to pressure us, but to keep us aware that we are being watched, our actions being measured as we profess a faith or a philosophy. Live out loud, in words and speech, in actions and in truth.
Laughter is healing. Laughter is hopeful. Laughter is intimacy. I knew I had reached a level of trust with the nurses in the clinic when we could laugh with each other. I was willing to make mistakes and sound ridiculous as I learned Creole and learned about Haitian life. Humor was a way to reach the one nurse who intimidated me the most. I am the best kind of target for teasing – I immediately fall for it and react strongly. So the laughter abounded throughout every day and put us at ease with each other. It also reminded me not to take myself so seriously.
Oh, Haiti, I miss you. I miss the genuine presence of each moment, the sun and the laughter and the sounds and the little hands and feet, the sweat and the tears and the chanting of my name and the full-body hugs of the little ones. The 7Up, the morning coffee, the baby cows mooing like they are full-grown, their mommas checking for cars before letting them cross to the pasture, the rice and the beans and the spice and the chicken, the refreshment of a cold shower at the end of a brutal day, the simplicity of life, the knowledge that one life could make others better. The determination of a people who refuse to give up, no matter what the cost, who fight for each moment and possess faith far beyond mine. Three nurses who showed me every day that if we have faith, hope and love, we have the tools to succeed. The bravery of young children who run after life with abandon, who dance and sing and love and rejoice and embrace each day with all they have. I pray that I can bring these and so many more tidbits into life here in the States, and that the depth of my heart will only serve to dignify, love and be present to those who are now before me.
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
I’ve come to learn that relationships and communication are incredibly intricate and so valuable here.
Below is an excerpt from a blog post written by Ashley Siferd, a volunteer from NPH El Salvador. Ashley talks about how much she has learned about the delicate and extremely meaningful relationships built with the children at the NPH homes.
I’ve come to learn that relationships and communication are incredibly intricate and so valuable here. Building trust with some of these kids takes time and effort, especially given some of their backgrounds and personal histories. So each new interaction or deeper conversation with any of the children for me is a victory because that means we are getting closer and leaving superficiality behind.
For example, almost 5 months had passed when one of the older girls finally opened up and started talking with me; at least it became more than just saying hello in passing. Just a few weeks ago, she felt comfortable enough with me to cry on my shoulder. I would never have expected that when I first met her.
I’ve come to learn that relationships and communication are incredibly intricate and so valuable here. Building trust with some of these kids takes time and effort, especially given some of their backgrounds and personal histories. So each new interaction or deeper conversation with any of the children for me is a victory because that means we are getting closer and leaving superficiality behind.
For example, almost 5 months had passed when one of the older girls finally opened up and started talking with me; at least it became more than just saying hello in passing. Just a few weeks ago, she felt comfortable enough with me to cry on my shoulder. I would never have expected that when I first met her.
Monday, April 7, 2014
I'd heard that being a tia was hard work...
Below is an excerpt from a blog post written by NPH Guatemala volunteer, Jessica Heintz. Jessica shares about how rewarding her experience being a "tia" last December was for her!
I was pretty nervous leading up to December. I’d heard that being a tÃa was hard work, and it certainly was. The hours could drag on, the kids wouldn’t listen, etc. At the same time though, it was an experience I really enjoyed. My position as clinic assistant doesn’t provide a lot of direct contact with the kids. Thus, the intense time I spent with so many pequeños in December was great! Also, because I had a new group of boys for the most part, I got to know a lot more kids within the home.
One of my favorite parts of the tÃa experience was doing “vela”, or night duty. I would drag my blankets down from my house to the section, rocking sweat pants and glasses. My partner would leave and I would put on some lovely Latin bachata music until my boys fell asleep. Then, when everything was quiet, I too could snuggle up on the tÃa bed until the morning, when I was in charge of waking everyone up for another day. While I missed my own bed a bit on these nights, it overwhelmingly felt like such a position of honor to be able to have the privilege of keeping watch over the kids while they slept.
I was pretty nervous leading up to December. I’d heard that being a tÃa was hard work, and it certainly was. The hours could drag on, the kids wouldn’t listen, etc. At the same time though, it was an experience I really enjoyed. My position as clinic assistant doesn’t provide a lot of direct contact with the kids. Thus, the intense time I spent with so many pequeños in December was great! Also, because I had a new group of boys for the most part, I got to know a lot more kids within the home.
One of my favorite parts of the tÃa experience was doing “vela”, or night duty. I would drag my blankets down from my house to the section, rocking sweat pants and glasses. My partner would leave and I would put on some lovely Latin bachata music until my boys fell asleep. Then, when everything was quiet, I too could snuggle up on the tÃa bed until the morning, when I was in charge of waking everyone up for another day. While I missed my own bed a bit on these nights, it overwhelmingly felt like such a position of honor to be able to have the privilege of keeping watch over the kids while they slept.
Sunday, April 6, 2014
We are a family here!
Below is an excerpt from a blog post written by volunteer, Kristin Mages, who worked at NPH DR. This week, National Volunteer Appreciation Week, we are celebrating all our volunteers like Kristin, who selflessly dedicate their time to helping positively influence the lives of the children living in the NPH homes!
WE are a family here. That was Padre Wasson’s philosophy when he started NPH in Mexico back in 1954 and that continues to be the case to this day. It’s not uncommon to hear a kid here referring to one of their housemates as their brother or sister; some of them have known and lived with each other since they were babies. Plus lots of our kids have siblings here with them.
On that note, we have a really special project that we do here as volunteers called Proyecto Familiar (I’ve mentioned this before in other blogs). More or less, once a month, each volunteer is assigned a family of siblings and together, we make supper. It’s simple, it’s fun, and it’s about being together. Some siblings here are very close, but there are others that you rarely see together and as you can imagine, when you live within 4 walls with 250+ other people, there’s not often time to be alone as a family and not surrounded by others.
This past Sunday, I did two different Proyecto Familiares. First off, we had Franchesca (one of my girls) and her younger twin sisters, Fernanda and Katery. I knew this one would be a walk in the park, because these siblings are super close and Franchesca is very responsible. Franchesca planned it all and we ended up making ensalada de coditos (pasta salad, Dominican-style) in the way her mom taught her years ago. We had a great time!
WE are a family here. That was Padre Wasson’s philosophy when he started NPH in Mexico back in 1954 and that continues to be the case to this day. It’s not uncommon to hear a kid here referring to one of their housemates as their brother or sister; some of them have known and lived with each other since they were babies. Plus lots of our kids have siblings here with them.
On that note, we have a really special project that we do here as volunteers called Proyecto Familiar (I’ve mentioned this before in other blogs). More or less, once a month, each volunteer is assigned a family of siblings and together, we make supper. It’s simple, it’s fun, and it’s about being together. Some siblings here are very close, but there are others that you rarely see together and as you can imagine, when you live within 4 walls with 250+ other people, there’s not often time to be alone as a family and not surrounded by others.
This past Sunday, I did two different Proyecto Familiares. First off, we had Franchesca (one of my girls) and her younger twin sisters, Fernanda and Katery. I knew this one would be a walk in the park, because these siblings are super close and Franchesca is very responsible. Franchesca planned it all and we ended up making ensalada de coditos (pasta salad, Dominican-style) in the way her mom taught her years ago. We had a great time!
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Little things bring great change...
Below is a blog post written by wonderful supporter, Ursala Houser, about her recent trip to NPH DR. You can also check out Ursala's beautiful photos from her trip on her site here.
On the first day we arrived it felt like time stood still for us. I swear I got more accomplished in that one day than I would have in a week here in the states. We stayed at NPH orphanage in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic. We arrived at night, while everyone was sleeping. The next morning our wonderful Tia (house mom) made us breakfast, porridge and fruit. Now this wasn’t just any porridge. If you ask my husband, it was the “just right” porridge that Goldie Locks talks about in the story of the Three Bears. Twenty-five minutes later I was sitting in my very first Spanish mass. Something about hearing the liturgy in Spanish made it so much more beautiful.
After mass, a quick tour of the orphanage and then lunch. Lunch was a humbling experience because we were allowed to eat with the children. My family got to eat with the baby house, which was the kids who were between the ages of 3-5. When we arrived we were welcomed by some of the most polite children you will ever meet. They took their eating seriously, not one of them played with their food. When they were done eating everyone of them picked up their plates and put them in the sink. AMAZING! Can I sign my kids up? When they were done they did chores and then we all played outside.
On the first day being offered the same meal as the kids I felt guilty. I shouldn’t be taking food from these beautiful people. To see the expression of joy on the kids’ faces as they partook of the exact same meal that they ate every day, beans and rice, was something EVERY American should see. Needless to say my daughter, Ana, and I cried into our beans and rice that day. After lunch and playtime we went to our rooms and debriefed. That afternoon we took some of the kids to the beach and later that night we went to the director’s house for dinner. Seeing how our different cultures mesh together was perfect. We sang songs, and by the end of this very long day I felt like I was home.
The next day posed a different sort of challenge. We had made plans to go into the Batey and work within little village outside of the orphanage to help build a house for a family. A Batey is a sugar workers' village. The men in the village all work in the cane fields, and the women stay at home and raise the children and cook. In these more modern times, that definition was a little looser, but most families stuck to the traditional customs. When we arrived to start building we didn’t know what to expect. My husband is very knowledgeable in the building process, but he soon realized that the American way had no place in the Dominican Republic. The “Dominican Way” was king and cement trucks that mix the concrete for you were a luxury. Here you used the ground to mix the concrete. The supplies were limited, and nothing was wasted, and my husband learned from a boy who was just a bit older than our son, how much water, sand and cement to use. Humbling, yes, but also inspiring.
As Americans we sit in our world thinking that the people in other countries are poor because they are lazy. Not true. The people in the Dominican were very industrious. Besides that, they don’t have the luxury of being lazy. If they don’t cook, they don’t eat. If they don’t build, they don’t have a place to live. The young men were taught young how to build and work with their hands. In the same manner the little girls are quickly taught by mom how to maintain a household. Schooling is reserved for the rich, as there is no public schooling system, and it costs a great deal of money. In the orphanage the children had godparents from the States and Canada who help cover these costs, so their lives were much different than the children in the Batey. So, unless there was outside intervention, if you are born poor, you know that your life is going to be one of hard work and labor.
Depressing? Nope! I must say that the first day in the Batey I experienced a wave of emotions; empathy, compassion, and this last one was strange for me, envy. As I played with the kids all barefoot, I realized something; this is true happiness. This is true freedom.
At one point on that second day one of the men took a little break and came and played with us. My daughter and I were doing bubbles with the little ones as their father (later I learned his name was Sandy) looked on with curiosity. I asked him if he wanted to join in and he said that he didn’t know how. I told him I would teach him, and 5 seconds later I watched him blow his first bubble. So often we feel like we have to do great things to change the world, but at that moment I had the epiphany that little things bring great change. Now, I’m not saying that bubble changed Sandy’s life, but it sure did change mine.
Here is a slideshow of Ursala's photos from her trip.
Here is a slideshow of Ursala's photos from her trip.
Saturday, February 8, 2014
International Student Leadership Program in WA partners with other local org
Read this wonderful update below directly from our NW regional staff about an exciting new partnership in the works!
We are developing a wonderful partnership between the International
Student Leadership Program and a place here in Spokane, WA called the Hutton
Settlement.
The
Hutton Settlement is a children’s foster care home with some great similarities
to NPH. Their mission is to nurture, educate and prepare children who are in need of a safe and healthy
home.
In
October, the students from the International Leadership Program came over to Spokane (we are about 300 miles
from Seattle) to attend our fundraiser and to do a service project at Hutton
Settlement. The service project was to build a sandbox.
The
children from Hutton were also invited to join in. It was a beautiful, crisp fall
afternoon, and after meeting together and learning about each other, our students
and some of the Hutton children began the project, which involved some digging,
leveling and placing the concrete brick border.
What I found really great about
the experience is that there really seemed to be a bond between the Hutton
children and our students. They really didn’t share any language abilities,
but they worked side by side in this joint effort to create something of lasting benefit for the children.
Learn more about our International Student Leadership Program here and check back for updates soon!
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
You have been with us every step of the way...
Gena Heraty, Director of the Special Needs Programs at NPFS Haiti, gives us an update on some of the children and what she describes as "a big family" at Kay Christine.
Thomas just appeared upstairs, and we are having a discussion about
his love life!! He is forever changing "girlfriends"!! But he always
finds another guy for the girl he is dumping!! So just now I asked him if it’s
true he has left "Zouzou". She is for another he says!! All of us
agree that if Thomas was able to walk we would never be able to keep him home
as he has a real eye for the ladies!!! Today he went horse riding and he loves
that! He is such a wonderful boy - always full of love and life and
always down for a laugh. He has many many friends and kids of all ages, boys and
girls, are always coming to chat with him or to wheel him around. His speech is
clearer now and so it's easier to understand him. He would make a good
journalist because he is always telling me when someone misbehaves. Last week one
of his sitters got married, and he was so so excited to go to the wedding. How
proud he was and how wonderful it was to see he and his Mom and three sisters there.
They love him so much and his mother was proudly showing him off to all her
friends and neighbors. I felt so many emotions during the wedding. So happy for
this family, so happy for Thomas. So happy to see his joy. And I missed so
much his twin brother- "my little prince"! Almost thirteen
years have gone since he died, and yet he is never far from my heart. Somehow I
like to think that he too was celebrating with his family that evening.
Robenslee has a new "karate type" routine! He is so funny! Doing his
routine every day. Don't ask me where it came from - he just started doing it, and we all remarked that it was like a martial arts routine! One day I was sitting outside in front of the house and I was
on the telephone. He was walking around and the next thing he just backed up
and sat on my knee for a few minutes! Then he went off again! So cute! I have
been deliberately giving him more attention these past months because it would
be easy to go a day and just see him as he is so independent! And I remember
how affectionate he was as a child. I have noticed that sometimes he will come
close just for the contact, he will stay a while while I rub his back or head
and then off he goes again! Other times he is too busy!!
Alsone has had a good year! He is so handsome! And so special! There he is in
his chair - unable to do a thing by himself and yet always quick with a smile. Never
impatient. Never grumpy! So gentle in so many ways. You know some people will
look at him and never see beyond his body! Never notice his beautiful bright
eyes, shining with love. Never notice his gentle presence, his kind smile, his
twinkling smile - in the world of today so many people will always be blind to
so many things.
Cepha is watching me from her bed! She is always watching silently, and when
you let her know you notice you will get a big smile or a laugh! During Mass
she sometimes gets jealous if she cannot sit next to me. The tears will come and we move her over to me
and then she is fine! Other times when I am with the smaller ones she will be
watching! So I make sure to give her extra attention! She is a happy girl and
loves a bit of fun! Still loves the chocolate too! Sometimes her hips give her a
lot of pain but more often she is fine. She loves her
school and the special ed classes are going really well.
Yoldi is now one year without seizures!
Wonderful, right?! What happened? Well he told all of us he asked God to cure him
and he did! Medically speaking we have no reason to explain the seizures
stopping because the medicines are the same and even with the medicines he was
having seizures regularly! He no longer wears the helmet! He wanted to stop
taking the meds but we said no for now. Maybe if he goes longer without them we can
try! After him begging us for months to let him return to school (to the
program we have for older kids that includes life skills, and trade school) we relented! So he is a happy student and doing great!
Thanks to all of you for
your wonderful support. I know you have been with us every step
of the way. I will never meet most of you, but know that I consider you all to
be part of our family here in Kay Christine. You will be happy to know that we
continue to work hard to bring services to children with disabilities living
with their parents. Our Special Ed school is going very well, as are our therapy
programs. Not only that but we are trying to help other people in the rural
areas of Haiti so we can reach out to the children that no one ever helps. Our
dream is to to be a part of providing services throughout Haiti – one parish at
a time!! With the help of God and good people like you, we will get there!
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
A look back at 2013 for the International Volunteer Program
2013 was a great year for our International Volunteer
Program. Seven new volunteers joined the
NPH community in January 2013. In July,
another 32 committed to serving for a year at NPH, and three served for the summer
in the Dominican Republic. A total of 68
volunteers served at some point during the year. That includes those who finished service in
early 2013, and those who have extended their service from previous years.
Our volunteers work long hard hours each day at NPH and
show tremendous dedication to and love for the NPH family. In appreciation of their hard work, we
support them as best we can.
For the first time, we hosted two “Re-Entry” retreats for
volunteers who have completed their service. It’s a safe space for volunteers to reflect on the experience, share
stories from their time at NPH, and process the difficult aspects of
service. We hosted and facilitated weekend
long retreats in Minnesota and Washington for 16 former volunteers. Kara King and Joe
Cotton, both former volunteers themselves, helped plan and facilitate. We
plan to host two retreats each year going forward as they were very well received!
We have dedicated funds to assist in the cost of
international medical insurance starting in 2014. This should help all our volunteers purchase
high quality medical insurance in case they are injured or ill while serving at
NPH.
Our International Volunteer Coordinator again visited two
homes to see our volunteers in action, spoil them with some homemade food and
treats, and learn more about the volunteer program in each home. This helps us choose the right home for the
right volunteer, as well as building important connections to our volunteers.
We again welcomed two Hightower Kloos Legacy Fund recipients
in 2013 - Avriel Burlot and
Amber Moore. These volunteers also received some additional support for their time in
Haiti. They help us keep the memory of
Ryan Kloos and Molly Hightower alive, as well as the legacy of Erin Kloos in
action. We will forever mourn the loss
of Molly and Ryan as we celebrate the contributions of our current Haiti
volunteers.
To learn more about our International Volunteer Program, click here! You can also meet our current volunteers here!
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