Family visits...

When I was four, I 'stole' a plastic toy pear from Sunday school (making my religious sentiments clear from an early age!), Mum was horrified.  But I didn't have one, and I thought I needed one, I thought my toy kitchen at home would be much better if it had a plastic pear in the fruit bowl!  I never knew what it was to do without anything (can say that now... let's not discuss my moaning adolescent years).  On visits in the Barrios (slums) this week,  many kids tried to steal pencils and paper, hiding them when I was leaving their house, whilst I was pretending to be oblivious.  Those kids thought their home/afternoon would be better with those pencils in it, I agree with them.  I think that's a big part of CMAP and why I'm here.

I know art isn't essential to live and breathe.  But I believe community arts projects are a really beneficial thing for many young people.  For creative and emotional development, self expression, communication and social skills.  There is a lack of this developmental support here, and that's the void CMAP aims to fill, at least in part.  The really serious stuff - food, medicine, therapy- all comes from JUCONI.

After two days on visits with JUCONI Orientadores (Psychologists), I am filled with admiration for what they do.  I wish I had the skills and strength to do the same.

Last thursday, January 5th, was my birthday and I spent it out on family visits in the Southern Barrios of Guayaquil.  I got pooed on by a baby who had no nappies, got bitten by a thousand mosquitos, saw the living conditions in some of the houses, was party to discussions with many Mothers about the problems they are facing, and met a lot of wonderful people, especially children.  My first day of adulthood (being 25...I consider myself almost an adult) I felt naieve, futile and guilty.  It's hard to express my experience or feelings, I choose my words carefully - I don't have the right to 'feel' sympathy and I'm nowhere near understanding the complexity of politics surrounding these slums.  I also have no right to show you inside the homes of the people who welcomed me in, so I shant describe much.  At the end of my birthday I came home, to my flat in the city and ate chocolate cake and drank wine with friends.  The contrast has left me feeling very conflicted, it's impossible to justify.