One word that I would use to describe this weekend: Exhausting. Brooks and I had made the decision that every Friday night we would like to stay over at the orphanage, reading them books before they go to bed, helping them get ready, and just being there if the kids needed anything. We headed over around 4pm that afternoon, planning to not leave until early the next morning. I was worried the afternoon would drag on, but luckily it went by quickly and joyfully. I spent a couple of hours in retreat in the baby room, changing diapers, feeding kids, and feeling the calm that comes from holding a baby. Brooks and I had dinner with the kids, and after another hour of play, it was time to get ready for bed. I went over to the Kinders’ room and had them all crowd on a blanket on the floor with me, where I read them the “Hungry Caterpillar” in Spanish. They were so attentive and sweet, making “ooooh” noises every time I turned the page because of the bright colors. After saying good night to the Kinders, I went to the older girls room, where girls ages 8-12 slept. When I walked in, they were all clustered by their clothes, picking out dresses for church the next morning. After they all found the perfect dress and set them aside, I gathered them over to the bed I was staying in and read a couple of books. After reading time, the girls all started to putter around, getting ready for bed, and I was reminded so much of how it felt to be a summer camp councilor. As I’ve stated before, it’s incredible how much the orphanage feels like summer camp, but a summer camp that sadly never ends. After saying good night and turning off the lights, I was ready for a good night of sleep. Unfortunately, I was so wrong in hoping I would sleep well that night. At scattered hours of the night, different girls would quietly crawl into my bed to sleep, probably to feel for the first time what is was like to cuddle to sleep with another person. I thought it was endearing when the first girl crawled in, but by the time 3am rolled around, I had gotten no sleep, and there were three girls and myself in my bed, I was starting to miss the calm of sleeping comfortably in a bed alone. By 5am it was lights on, and the girls started to slowly get ready for their day. Brooks and I left around 6am, and I found out on our walk home the little boys were also excited by the idea of having a warm body to share their bed. The little boys were asking Brooks where he was going to sleep that night, and after jokingly saying, “in Elmer’s bed”, Elmer’s eyes light up with excitement. After that a couple of other boys asked if he would sleep in their bed another night. Brooks had to gently remind the kids that if they tried to share a bed with him they probably would end up squished, but he was touched by the fact that boys, who pride themselves on being tough, still craved that parental affection. Upon returning home, we discovered that the gate to my house was locked, and I ended up sleeping on a small couch in Brooks’ hosts mom’s house until breakfast. Was staying the night worth the lack of sleep? Absolutely. Will I be thinking on better ways to actually get some sleep for next Friday – eye masks and ear plugs in the running? Absolutely. The rest of Saturday was used up with time at the gym, and relaxation to recuperate from my exhaustion.
Sunday morning, Brooks and I woke up at 5:30am and met up with Yessi’s cousin, Jorge, to experience a grand Huehue event – a half marathon race up to the view pointnear Huehue. Both Sheny’s brother and another of Yessi’s cousins, Jorge’s brother, were running in the race, and Brooks and I didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to share in this event with them. Originally we were going to try to navigate getting there by ourselves, but luckily we found out at the last minute that Jorge was planning to go and was willing to take us with him. And man, was that a blessing. We ended up catching first a bus and then a micro up the viewpoint, and honestly if Brooks and I had tried to figure out the transportation by ourselves, we would have been back in bed by 7am, having completely failed at the adventure. The drive up to El Mirador was quick, and when we hopped out of the micro to walk a little further, we could not believe what sight we were greeted with. TIG. When there’s a race in town, the festivities are for everyone. They had a long gauntlet of food stalls set up, with indigenous pueblo families selling fried chicken, French fries, beans and tortillas. And up at the very top, the spot of the actual viewpoint, the local cell phone company had set up a giant stage where they were playing music and games with people on stage. We enjoyed the festivities by walking around, checking out the view, and getting some hot chocolate. By 9:45am, only an hour and fifteen minutes after the race had begun in the city center, the first finisher crossed the line, barely looking exhausted. Let me just lay out for you what this race consisted of, in case you were not impressed enough by me stating it was a half marathon to a viewpoint. About 1000 people participated in this race, and they ran around 6km through town, and then 14km straight up a mountain. These runners were beasts. And the thing that impresses me the most is that without specialized running diets or running gear, or even proper running shoes (Sheny’s brother, Rene, was running in Sketchers), these men and women were supreme athletes. I was amazed. Jorge’s brother ended up finishing 9th overall, and after his race he drank a hot cup of coffee, put on his sweats, and walked around like nothing had happened. When we asked him if he was tired, he said “Naw”. And, “Are you going to rest this afternoon?” “Naw”. Rene, in his fifties, finished the race in about two hours. After Rene finished, we walked around a bit more to see the festivities, and then TIGed our way down to town. We ended up catching a ride with one of Jorge’s friends, meaning we were 10 people standing in the back of his pick-up truck, half of which were in their 40s or 50s and had just run a half marathon straight up a mountain. We swerved and switch-backed our way down the mountain, and I couldn’t help but smile, realizing nothing like this would ever happen in the States. When we were almost to the bottom, the truck ended up over heated, and we walked the rest of the way down into Chiantla, a town neighboring Huehue, where we caught a bus home. And after eating lunch with our host family, and asking the two runners again if they were tired and planning to rest that afternoon and again hearing “no”, I shamefully and happily took a 2 ½ hour nap, recuperating all the sleep I had lost this weekend.
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