Mi casa es su Casa Guatemala

Please accept my apologies for the delay. This Guatemala visit was from April 29^th to May 16^th.

It was during the morning break when I got off the boat, and before I could step off the pier, kids had recognized me and were running to greet me with a hug. Any apprehension I previously felt, thinking they resented me for abandoning them in their time of need, evaporated immediately. My legs were swarmed with smiling children and my heart burst with joy and love as I shouted out their names in excitement. There they were! Vilma, Gladys, Yessica, Maria Alejandra… arm in a cast, but looking well. I was a bit surprised to see the eager faces of Pulula and Naomi happy to see me. Didn’t I used to punish them quite severely?

And then I saw her. My baby. My Floridalma. Time slowed down as I took in the moment. Her hair was longer, but the rest of her didn’t grow much. I picked up her tiny body and swung her around; the sound of her adorable laugh made me want to cry and laugh and sing, but mostly wrap my arms around her and never let go. There were more joyful greetings. The Niñas Grandes asked, “Y Lizzy?” The Verones Grandes wanted to know, “Cuando viene ‘Buenos Tiempos’?” They don’t forget, not even the Pequeñas, and it means a lot when the volunteers return. I wanted, more than anything, to let them know that they are loved tremendously.

Since August of last year, much had changed at the orphanage. I would rather not talk politics or of my frustrations, because, despite the fact that life is tough, especially in the poverty-stricken areas of rural Guatemala, the kids are happy and quite self-sufficient. The video shows just that. I thank God I was able to share such intimate moments with these precious children: combing lice out, singing underwater, curing boo-boos, reading bedtime stories, and kissing them goodnight. This is Love: real and raw, sometimes blissful, sometimes painful, but always beautiful.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dJ29HjTFKXM

P.S. I seriously contemplated sneaking Flori into the States (buying fake papers, registering her in school as my daughter, somehow avoiding felony charges), but resisted the urge and instead took advantage of the two weeks that flew by way too fast. We were swimming in the river, Flori riding on my back, when I submerged to make for the ladder that leads to the top of the pier. My internal compass was out of whack (shocker), and I am swimming off in some crazy direction before I surface for air. Flori is cracking up, asking where in the world I’m taking her, and thus begins the story that never gets old. To her, it was a classic, “Remember that time when…” story, and each time retold I was heading for some place further and further away- Cuatro callos, Fronteras, Buenos Aires… if I could have managed it, of course, I would have piggy-backed her all the way to the United States.