Backyard University: Dispatches from Dreamland: Part III: I'm Hooked and I Can't Stop Caring

¿Cuál es tu sueño?
Por favor, oprima el número uno para inglés..
What is your dream?

Answering that question is how each child who comes to the Fundación Niños de los Andes begins their experience with this organization. For the last week and a half, I have had the distinct honor of volunteering one of the Fundación's sites, here in Manizales, Colombia.

I came for the classroom Spanish practice, I stayed because well, I said I would. But I like staying because every smile, every hug, every kind word, and curious question adds a new crack to my heart.

Time for a sad story: If you've known me for any length of time, you probably know that this isn't my first visit to South America. I traveled to Ecuador when I was in college, many years ago. Even though I stayed in a pretty tame little tourist trap of a town, the reality of life in this part of the world was ever present: children, with no place to live, and nobody caring for them. I saw them scrambling on garbage heaps to eat fruit peels, fighting with stray dogs for old bread, hobbling across the street because they had podiatric issues that were untended, begging for money, but still happy when they got a warm sweater instead. I guess I should have been deeply saddened by all of this, but the factors behind their unprotected childhoods were so immense, and so unsolvable; being a pouty gringa seemed profoundly useless.

And now, if you can take it, another sad story. Meet Jaime Jaramillo.

Known in these parts as "Papá Jaime," he was motivated to help children living in the streets, sewers, and dumps of Bogotá, Colombia, when he saw such a child, a young girl, crushed by a truck. She had rushed into the street to pick up what she thought was a box containing a doll. The box was empty. Jaime couldn't continue with life as he had lived it before after witnessing that. He founded Fundación Niños de los Andes in 1988, and little by little, he built an organization that, for the children it has helped, has made all the difference in the world.

How does one approach this problem, much less solve it? I have had a little time to get to know the Fundación Niños de los Andes, and their approach focuses on the child. After receiving a child who has been removed from the dangerous environment in which he or she lives, they set about the gargatuan task of improving their lives, a little bit at a time. Once medical needs have been met, the child is asked "What is your dream?" Gone is the superstition that uttering your inner hopes will prevent them from coming true. The good people working for the Fundación know that you can't make something happen if you never allow yourself to say it out loud. Once the children can articulate a real goal for their lives, they are asked to paint a picture of their dreams, so they can start to realize them.

Through community partenerships, these kids get to do the things they drew: become athletes, fly in an airplane, learn English, achieve career goals, gain an education.

When I arrived for my first day at the Fundación Niños de los Andes, I was greeted by friendly directors who explained to me their mission, introduced me to the staff, and gave me a tour of the grounds. I admired how clean and efficient the facilities are, providing for every need imaginable. Their goal is to address the mental, physical, and spiritual needs of everyone they help. Some kids might have been sleeping in sewers, boxes, steps, or not at all, due to drug addiction. Here, they each have a fully made bed, complete with a stuffed animal. Instead of hunger, they are fed well-balanced meals. Abuse and neglect are replaced with loving staff, who are teachers and mentors who hug them and wipe away their tears when the details of their personal lives hurt too much.

My tour wasn't limited to the buildings. I also discovered a very special project known as the Sendero Mágico. "The Magical Path," is an immense symbolic outdoor project that I would call a garden, if that were sufficient enough. For now, it is outlined, with some of the vision realized.

A little more than a painting of a dream, drawn in the dirt, the idea is for this strip of nature is for the public at large to have an opportunity to access the kind of self-improvement offered to the children there. The basic premise of the Fundación Niños de los Andes is to attend the body, mind, and spirit of its children, and this is manifested in the outline and plan of the Sendero Mágico. Due to a tragic accident, Papa Jaime is now quadriplegic. For this reason, the entry to the garden will be filled with plants that he, and people like him, can sense: full of color, aroma, and taste. On to the zen garden, where there will be an area suitable for yoga classes, and next to it, the place where the mind is tended by the forces of nature. Earth and air, which are present anywhere you go outside.

Fire

in the form of a fire pit. Water

in the form of a reflecting pool.

These areas are dedicated to bringing harmony to the mind. At the path's end, there is a large paved spot. This is where visitors will be asked to paint a picture of their dream; invited to take all that they have gained from the magic garden and push it into some kind of real change in their lives.

It's also a great place for hand-stands.

After touring the Sendero Mágico, I was moved. Everyone I've met here in Colombia is a very devout Catholic, yet this garden is full of Eastern philosophy. I admire how they embrace other ways of reaching the same goal. Is it inner peace? Self discipline? Impetus to change themselves? I can't quite put my finger on it, but I can't deny it's good.

After ambling peacefully through the magical path, I was thrown into the girls' house, to hang out with them a bit, and have lunch, after which, I would be "rescued." Um...okay. What was I in for?

I don't know if anything could have prepared me for what was next. In five short minutes, I found myself of a bench, surrounded by about twenty girls, one of whom gave me a glare that rivals pre-film career Ice Cube. I was devastated and enamored all at the same time, especially when she sat next to me without saying a word and put her head on my shoulder. They all wanted to sit next to me, and the ones sitting next to me, wrapped their arms around my waist, put their hands on my knees, and occasionally touched my hair. It was a little intense, but I wasn't put off by any of it. These were girls living without mothers, and even though some of them were quite grown young ladies, it was obvious that inside them was a child, reaching out for something: diversion, affection, attention, a chance to prove how cool and funny they are. And they are.

They asked me questions. I tried to understand and answer them. They asked me to sing something in English. How to explain the them that the songs I can most easily sing are in Spanish? Lame. As I looked at all of the expectant faces, I shouted at myself in my head, "THINK OF SOMETHING!" For some reason, all my brain coughed up in response was Baby Got Back. They absolutely loved it, and asked me to sing it again and again. Eventually, I asked them to clap for me, to lay down the beat. As I rapped one of the tackiest songs in existence, within minutes of meeting all of them, I tried not to dwell too much on how surreal it all was. I didn't want to forget a lyric or mess up my ritmo.

They moaned with delightful yearning when I said I was married. The ultimate in grown-upness! And have four children? And a zooful of pets?! Big eyes all around and more questions. They asked me how to say their names in English, told me on what days to expect the best meals, and then cranked up the music and started dancing the rhumba in pairs. One of them grabbed me and started commanding me on how to move my feet. Being a total Latin music geek, I've basically been practicing for this very moment most of my adult life. I picked it up quickly, and they exclaimed how fast I learned. Then, the reggaeton, which for those who don't know, is straight up booty-shaking music. Being pretty sweaty and completely without boundaries at this point, I responded to their demands to dance with a quick how-low-can-you-go grind-off with one of the other girls. Complete abandon, what did I have to lose? Hooting and applause ensued. I was in and loving every minute of it.

Before anyone out there thinks I returned to South America to have a teen dance party, I should say, the rest of my time at the Fundación has been seriously spent, teaching English to some of those girls, and whole lot of other students. My heart flips out a little when I walk into a big whitewashed classroom, full of kids shouting, "GOOD MORNING TEACHAIR!" I smile from ear to ear and shout, "GOOD MORNING, STUDENTS!" and when one of the bright-eyed boys I teach asked me, "¿Cuál es tu sueño?" I said, "To come to Colombia and meet you."