Big news, small victories.

First things first, it appears as though I'll be in Chile a bit longer than I initially planned! It was always my hope to stay longer, but I had no idea that I would stay for such an exciting reason. Tomorrow morning I'll be signing a contract, good through the end of June 2010, as VE's next Director of Volunteer Relations! As I've made quite clear throughout this blog, I've been over the moon for VE since I got here, so the opportunity to be involved on this level feels like yet another glorious piece falling into place. There have been many instances over the past three months where I've had a strong sense of being where I'm supposed to be, not only because of the work but because of the connections I've made with people here. To be recognized as having the potential to do this sort of job shows me not only that I am where I'm supposed to be, but also that I've made progress building confidence and maintaining "Mariah-ness" in all areas of my life. My dear best friend mentioned noticing this shift in me a year or so ago, this ability to relax and maintain my authentic personality around people I'm not completely comfortable with, and I've since realized just how significant a shift it's been. When I arrived in Chile, I made it my goal to maintain Mariah-ness from Day 1 and for some reason, something clicked and I've felt a sense of contentment from the very beginning.

That being said, I'm still terrified! But it's a good kind of terror. Daniel, the current DVR, does a truly fantastic job, and I can't quite picture anyone else in the role. I'll learn as much as I can from him in the next two months before he leaves, then I'll make the job my own. My schedule will change completely, as my time will be spent in the VE office rather than at Entre Todas, though I'll still get to see the girls about once a week. The job itself is basically my dream job at this point in my life--in a nutshell, the DVR makes sure the volunteers are happy, trained, supported, and motivated. Of course there's a long list of actual responsibilities, among them organizing the arrival of new volunteers, running Orientation and Jornada, coordinating the bi-weekly general VE meetings, and much, much more! The position will challenge many aspects of my personality, I'll get to be my goofy, fired-up self all the time, plus I can walk around the office barefooted. Happiness.

In other news, my co-workers Chris, Brooke and I recently went on vacation with the Entre Todas girls in El Tabo, a little coastal town near Isla Negra, where Pablo Neruda had a home. Though the girls and three tías stayed in El Tabo for a full week, we went for four days, knowing the experience would be a bit on the intense side. Though I felt apprehensive going in, the trip ended up being much more calm and pleasant than I expected. We stayed in a "colonia," which was a large house with three rooms of bunk beds, a kitchen, a large common space for sharing meals, and an asphalt area outside set up for soccer. The colonia was a fifteen-minute walk from the "downtown" of El Tabo and the beach. A group of boys from another hogar was also staying in the colonia, so there were plenty of hormones flying around. On our first night, we had a "dance" in the large common space (with the lights off and everything!). Couples were forming and dissolving left and right. We had never really seen the girls flirt before, so it was truly a trip. During this dance, I had a bit of a breakthrough with one of the seventeen-year-old girls who doesn't usually open up to me--we started dancing together, doing silly ho-down dance moves alternated with a few Chilean(?) steps. We were seriously cracking each other up, then all of a sudden we were alone in the center of the dance floor, swinging each other 'round and 'round for all to see. We "performed" for a few fantastic moments, then it was over, but I was ecstatic.

When it came time to go to sleep that first night, one of the tías sheepishly told us there were no beds left in the room with the girls and that we'd be sleeping in the room with the tías from the other hogar as well as the younger boys. It was all fine and dandy when we went to sleep and the little ones were all already sleeping; however, when 8 a.m. rolled around and I was convinced I was in a rowboat in rough seas, I opened my eyes and realized I was just on a wobbly top bunk with a few small boys bouncing on the bunk beneath me. The boys were harmless, although one of them did tattle on Brooke for not making her bed neatly enough.

The contrast between the two groups was fascinating. The boys prayed before every meal, sometimes singing an “educational” song as well. One of the songs simply cannot go without repeating. Chris, Brooke and I stared at each other in disbelief as one the tíos led the boys in a song called “The Little Bird,” about a little bird that wants to fly but keeps getting into trouble. At first, the bird drinks too much whiskey and gets cirrhosis. Then the little bird smokes five hundred cigarettes and gets cancer. Then the bird uses cocaine and overdoses. Finally, the bird tries heroin and dies of AIDS from a dirty needle. The song, of course, had a bright, cheery melody and all the boys merrily sang along. My, oh my.

We ate our first dinner and breakfast with the girls, then after breakfast sat down with our tías for tea and ended up having a lovely conversation with them. I think we passed some sort of test by doing this, because for every meal after that, we ate with the tías after the girls finished. There’s not usually a lot of communication with the tías when we’re at Entre Todas, so to have this time to get to know them a bit felt significant. By the end of the four days, I felt we had developed some semblance of a rapport with them and even hugged them good-bye.

Eating with the tías also gave Brooke, Chris and me some down time with each other to read or play cards, which definitely eased the stress of the trip. We walked into town with the girls on the second night and had more down time with each other when the tías let the girls run free for an hour and a half. The three of us decided to reward ourselves with some ice cream. We stood in front of the ice cream cooler, gazing at the flavors indecisively. We finally asked the slouching ice cream shop employee if we could try a couple of flavors. He sighed and reached for a spoon, scooping some mint chocolate chip for me to try. Brooke asked to try the Swiss chocolate and the employee looked at me impatiently, reaching out for the sample spoon in my mouth. Now, mind you, I had a nasty cold during this trip, so my initial thought was, “Oh, I don’t want to give Brooke my germs.” The employee held out his hand insistently, though, so I handed him the spoon. I tried to suppress a gasp as he dipped my sample spoon into the Swiss chocolate and handed it to Brooke. We looked at each other, smiled, and she popped it in her mouth. We each received, of course, a fresh spoon with our dish of ice cream.

Overall, the trip was what I expected: not traumatizing, not amazing, but not without it’s small victories. It was great to see the girls enjoy the beach, crowded as it was, and generally nice to see them constantly over the course of a few days. Brooke and I leapt into action when one of the girls had bad cramps, and we tried as best we could to comfort one of the girls who had her heart temporarily broken by one of the boys from the other hogar. I love these day-to-day happenings. When nothing we do feels like it makes any difference, I always hope that these times of just being with the girls give them a sense of worth.