Smiles Around the World: The Facts of Life

You take the good. You take the bad. You take them both and there you have the memories of my time at the Holding Boys Center.

The Story of Jeffery
Jeffery is from Padre Burgos, a small town about three hours south from Ormoc. When people found him about 20 miles from his home he had been walking through the mountains for three days with no shoes and begging for food. He was running away from his foster family who had been beating him.

The time came for us to bring Jeffery back to the Social Welfare office in Padre Burgos and Agnes asked if I’d like to go with (why he ended all the way up in Ormoc will forever be a mystery). Excited to see more of the island I jumped at the chance for a road trip with Jeffery, Agnes, and me.

Little did I know the entire staff would be taking the road trip. There were six adults and three additional kids in one van to bring Jeffrey home and one adult to stay back at the center with twenty plus kids. Since this was earlier in my stay I was completely confused why so many people were needed, but it all became clear when we stopped at the beach for a picnic for three hours after dropping Jeffery off. I am still debating which part bothered me the most. Jeffery’s fear in going back to Padre Burgos, all the people, the amount of time we spent at the beach, watching the kids watch the adults eat until they couldn’t stuff another piece of fish in their mouth until they were allowed to eat, or knowing the smorgasbord was paid for by the center. The center that did not have the budget to get the kids a new basketball after theirs popped from being worn out.

The Trip to Jollibee
Taking the kids out of the center always breaks my heart in a million pieces. It starts when they strut out all proud to me in their “best” clothes. Most of these kids rotate between two outfits so it typically means the one that is clean. Pause for just a second and think about that. Two outfits. Two outfits that don’t even fit. Either they are way too small so their pants are now capris or so oversized they have to use material to tie the sides so their pants don’t fall down.

When we get to Jollibee (the McDonalds of the Philippines) the guard won’t even open the door for the kids until he sees me. I understand that this is so patrons are not bothered by beggars while eating, but it doesn’t make it any easier to see.

Then the stares and snarls begin and the questions start popping into everyone’s heads about what they are wearing and why the kids are in Jollibee, again, until they see me. Don’t they know they have their best clothes on just to come to Jollibee?

But then we order and their eyes are lit up like JD and Mom’s yard at Christmas time. I forget about everything up until this point and smile at their happiness. I often think I am getting more out of the trip to Jollibee than them.

The Barbershop
Eleonor’s mother was having a birthday party and she asked for 40 pesos to get a haircut so she could look her best. Since the kids will use the money to buy glue to sniff (called rugby) I decided to go with just to make sure she was really getting a haircut. My little angel, Jay, saw us leaving and asked if he could go with. Okay, so maybe I delayed our walk so he could see us leaving.

As Jay and I watched Eleonor get her haircut it was easy to tell he had never gotten a haircut let alone even be in a barbershop before. So once Eleonor was done I asked him if he wanted a cut too. His eyes got as big as his head from excitement and it was even better once he got in the chair. His eyes clenched shut out and shoulders tightened out of fear and as soon as the buzzer touched his head the gestures were intensified by ten from the tickles. It may be the cutest thing I have ever seen and sadly, this was one of the only times I didn’t have my camera with me so you’ll just have to trust me.

P.S. Eleonor never went to the birthday party. Her first reason was that she didn’t like her mother and didn’t want to go until she remembered I had bought her a haircut for the event. Then her story quickly changed to not having enough money to take the multicab home.

The Street Kids in the Street
Sara, another volunteer, and I were having a drink on the patio when a couple kids came up begging for money. I looked up and to my surprise it was Ceot and Jon Marco, two kids that were at the center the first two weeks I was there but disappeared before I got to say goodbye. That happens more frequent than I like. One day the kids are there and the next day they are gone. Forget the personal disappointment of losing a little kid I have become attached to or the difficulties of teaching a group of kids that is constantly changing, but I always wonder what type of conditions they are going back to and tonight I had my answer.

With my heart in my toes I gave them the biggest hugs in the world and took them to the market for a proper dinner. I asked them if they wanted to come back to the center for a good place to sleep and eat, but they were more interested in the food in front of them.

As if the feelings couldn’t get any worse of seeing the kids back on the street, the saturation van pulled up to Sara and me immediately when I got back to the patio. Do I tell them the kids are at the market? I felt like it was my responsibility, but another part knew the kids did not want to go back to the center. As weird as it sounds many of the kids prefer the streets because they feel like they have freedom. I thought they would think I had tricked them with buying the dinner. I knew it was far from the truth, but would they?

Responsibility won so we went back to the market to pick them up. They both ran as soon as they saw the van. Secretly I was hoping both would get away. Unfortunately Jon Marco was not able to escape the speed of the older kids and started bawling uncontrollably when he was caught. I tried to comfort him and tell him it would be better at the center, but the disappointment in his eyes told me he didn’t agree (and I wasn't so sure myself). Even worse I think he felt betrayed. This was the first time anyone saw tears in my eyes...

And…

How the center’s supplies are limited to trays for the kids to eat from, a few balls, a few badminton paddles, tattered books that are beyond their level of reading, a few items they have collected from who knows where, and a TV that they watch all huddled together in the hallway.
How a couple of kids have broken bones, but no casts.
The despair in Jay’s eyes when his ice cream toppled to the floor on his first bite.
The curiosity Niel had watching a kid play with a remote control car almost as if he had never seen one in his 13 years.
When you feed Baby James pieces of food to prevent him from choking he’ll snatch everything in your hand and stuff it all in his mouth. I am guessing it is just a natural instinct since he was starved for so long.
How Baby James barely has the energy to cry yet he will play with himself all day. I know that is a little weird to write, but I found it so interesting.
How emotional all the kids get when their parents come. Some is pride, but most is pain.
The night Allen was caught trying to jump off the second story of a parking lot
The day I learned about the kid who killed himself by slitting his throat just before I got there
How often kids escape from the center while others never want to leave
The day I learned one of my favorite guys, Jonathan, who is always so helpful and looks after all the younger kids, was in the center for rape
The first time I saw a kid being beaten by a 2 x 4 for something they didn’t even know if he did (and turns out didn’t do)
Learning about the night some of the kids were punished by having to kneel on sea salt for negligible misbehavior
How the staff do absolutely nothing except beat the kids (this was not all the time, but enough to write about), share half the food I buy for the five of them and let the 30 kids share the other half, take the toys I buy for the kids, or never even say thank you
Watching Ronald’s progress with long division
How much they loved their pictures taken. What is interesting is everyone in the Philippines will have the biggest smile until the camera snaps and all of the sudden their faces turn serious and stone like. I still don’t know whether they prefer how they look with serious faces or if they are just self conscious of their smiles since most of them are missing teeth?!?
The first time I saw Baby James stand up and walk around
Hearing Jay repeat the regions of the Philippines a couple weeks after the lesson. He truly was listening AND retained it.
How fast the kids learned how to make bracelets and their pride with each finished product
When the kids finally understood the rules to H-O-R-S-E
The day I got Jun Jun, the macho man of the group, to actually start participating in lessons
The day we piled 30 plus people into the van and headed to the beach
The energy in the room when dancing with the kids to “Low”
Watching Allen, the quietest one of the group, break out the dance moves when I turned on “Low”
The kids grasping on to the plush toy gifts for dear life
How well behaved they were one Sunday when we had to sit through mass, walk the stations of the cross, listen to the nun tell them how they needed to live a life of God, and wait while everyone went through confession. I was ready to start joking around after about 10 minutes!
How grateful they were for the new mattresses since their backs were no longer sore and getting better sleep
How respectful they are of all their elders, especially me. They were always trying to carry everything for me, make sure I was okay, etc.
How I got them all doing my brother Chad’s famous fist explosion and yelling Yahtzee!
Or perhaps my favorite. The day little Jay put on his best shirt thinking that would make me want to take him home with me. Little does he know he didn’t need to put his best shirt on…