working at Don Bosco

Today or actually the weekend all together was great! I’m really starting to love working at INABIF. The boys are really fun and every day you learn more about them. Last day I went to Johan because he was standing against a wall at the other side of the compound . When I asked if I could help him with solving his problem (I didn’t ask if he had a problem because he obviously had one) he started crying… When a 16 year old boy starts crying at your side you don’t really know what to do for several seconds. I laid my hand on his shoulder and waited a few moments. Then I repeated my question. He said that he wanted to go home, back to his family, his mom, brother and sisters. He didn’t want to stay two more months in Don Bosco.

Although I already knew the answer to my next question I still asked it. Why he wanted to go back. Whether your working with small children in school during lets say a Zeeklassen or Overnachting or in the scouts during een welkakamp of your at the other side of the planet working with mistreated, abandoned of abused teenagers the general feeling of being extracted from your homeplace is in common: loneliness, homesickness, nostalgia

 

We talked about the subject and his feelings for several minutes and my advice was that he had to explain his feelings to his mom when she would come to visit him. I talked a bit more over the purpose of being here in this community and how he could give meaning to his time here –but for a 16year old boy its hard to do these kind of mental exercise-.

Two hours later at a distance I saw him sitting next to his mother and little sister with his head between his legs, supposingly  crying. I did not interfere and I didn’t see him anymore that day.

The next day I was gladly surprised when he came to sit next to me during the little haloweenparty that the mothers of the casitas had organized and started to talk about the day before. He told me that he could go home next month and he seemed utterly relieved. His mother had accepted his apologies and they had a long and serious talk. When I asked for what he had apologized he said that a few moths ago he’d trashed all the windows off his house and fought with his brother. He didn’t remember much of it because he was wasted at the time. …  I listened and he talked on until somebody of the others guys pulled him of his chair to dance. Few seconds later I suffered the same faith =).

I realize that this story is but one of many. Every boy here has his own to tell … or not to tell.

So far 3 boys told me theirs. I m not curious about the stories but about which boy will be next to tell me his. It’s in that moment that you know they trust you.

…The other day there was a footballmatch between Don Bosco and some teenagers of the neighboring town. One of them called me gringo y algo (something more I didn’t understand). Grover, another very talented boy of Don Bosco (15 years old), heard it , gave me a smile, tackled the offender, said something and gave me a blink. J I was a part of the team! Here I’m no longer a gringo, finally !