As my first week in Santa Elena draws to a close, to say I have mixed feelings about this place would be an understatement. I've also realised that for the next 9 weeks or so this isn't going to be a travel blog (unless you count emotional journeys – I don't) so I'm probably going to post slightly less frequently, especially as my life here takes on a bit more of a routine.
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| my lodgings |
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| A gloomy sunday view from the farm |
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| The foundation gym! (including dumbells made from concrete) |
Sunday the 23rd was a hungover write-off, during which I mulled over the drunken heart to heart I'd had with Richard. He had told me in no uncertain terms that he's hating this job at the moment and he has the power to sell the farm, close the foundation and leave. I know I should have tried to motivate him but I was just speechless. I managed to keep a relatively straight face and drunkenly told him to follow his heart.
On Monday the 2 female volunteers returned and the first thing Gatrey said to Richard was “I'm leaving”. She was due to leave next week anyway but she decided to cut her losses and leave earlier. It was obvious she hadn't been enjoying herself. It also transpired that a meeting had taken place where she'd criticised Richard and the Foundation for over an hour (prompting Richard to write an email to the owner of the Foundation telling him he wanted to quit) 2 days before I arrived, which probably accounts for the slightly tense mood I found myself in during the first couple of days. All the motivation had been sucked out of the place and it was going to be an uphill struggle to bring it back.
While tuesday was an unremarkable day of lessons and play, wednesday was more memorable. Last week, during our arduous meeting, we discussed the mobile school. This is essentially a massive box on wheels with lots of pull-out blackboards and has lots of activities which you can hang up for the kids to do. It turns out that for as long as anyone could remember, the mobile school had just been sitting in the classroom where the volunteers used to teach and was being used in situ. Upon my insistence that a mobile school should indeed be mobile, on wednesday we took the school into the area where the indian community live and spent a couple of hours teaching kids from the neighbourhood. Just as I'd hoped, the combination of the kids' enthusiasm and a new experience for us as volunteers was very galvanizing. I taught some maths and geography as well as tactfully dodging the advances of the 14 year old girls who'd taken my sunglasses. A knackering but satisfying day.
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| "Look mom, I´m a volunteer!" |
On friday morning I went food shopping in the market with Richard. As we bought indian bread, mangoes, papayas and various other essentials, it was great to see several people sitting around already on the booze at 8am. We then had to drive to the Brazilian border town of Pacaraima to buy powdered milk. I thought this was ridiculous until we went to fill up the car with petrol which cost around 40p for a full tank. Venezuela never ceases to amaze me. In the afternoon we threw a halloween party for the kids which, i assume like most kids halloween parties, involved face-painting, too many pancakes, too many sweets, too much cake, kids vomiting, hide and seek and a sack race. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves though so it felt like we'd done a good job.
Child-like naivety? Is he an innocent delicate soul?
ReplyDeleteSounds like you have a chance to make a difference though, Phil. All of that drama and motivation-sucking is nothing you can't help them sort out. Once she leaves there'll be a different vibe and everyone will be less stressed out. Then you can swoop in and just "Really?!" your way into their hearts.
ON THE BOOZE AT 8AM. Sounds like Texas, and my kind of people.
Hope you're having fun. If not, find solace in the fact that the weather here is shit..I was going to say cold but you would've probably envied that.
Cuidate.