Sunday and Monday

Sunday, as I'm sure most of you are aware, was Father's Day, and we decided to have a special cookout to mark the occasion. All of the guests at Casa Vides (A. House's sister shelter where mostly long-term women and families reside) joined us in the A. House parking lot. We grilled burgers, gulped sodas, inhaled sandia and feasted on cake. We invited the fathers to go through the buffet line first. It made me sad to think about all of the families that were divided by the border on that day, and every day for that matter. It made ache for the children at Vides and A. House whose fathers are not in the picture. It made me proud for the men who were working and sending money back to feed their kids.

Everyone had a really great time, in spite of the oppressive heat.

Right afterwords, we led those who were interested down to what is officially one of my favorite things about El Paso so far-- an event at the Chamizal Park called Music Under the Stars/Musica bajo las estrellas. Each Sunday evening in the summer, Chamizal hosts a different musical performance, which thousands of people from all walks of life attend. This week, the music was cumbia. Although we made a wrong turn and ended up walking the scenic route, we made it just in the nick of time and even had a place to sit.

We didn't sit for long, though!

Some of the guests from the House had already gone down to the dancefloor situated in front of the stage. Kyla and I decided that we would give it a go...or at least watch. Before we even stepped onto the floor, two of the guests were smiling and motioning towards us. By the time my first foot hit the floor I was already dancing. I thought that dancing with guests would be really strange and awkward, but it really wasn't! It was fun, and wghile we were dancing, we were all just people.

We weren't estadounidenses, we weren't hondurenos, we weren't mexicanos. We were bailadores.

We returned to our seats for a few moments, and then we returned to the dance floor with some more friends. Once we arrived at the dance floor again we saw the band and dancers on the stage shaking their hips, and at leats I was a bit distracted. All of a sudden I heard my name and felt a tap on my shoulder. It was none other than Sarah from SCB! I was so excited to see Sarah, Laura, and Dimple. I was completely surprised to be seeing them there. It was a great surprise, though.

I danced with my SCB friends, volunteers from A. House and Casa Vides, guests (adults and kids!) and alongside other pasenos (El Paso-ans). What a great night!

The next day, Monday (yesterday) I was on PM shift. Everything was going fine on shift, I was tired, but everything was alright. Then it came time to find 3 guests to cook dinner. For some reason, almost no one was in the house. Those who were in teh house had already cooked or claimed to be too tired. I kept thinking to myself that if I hadn't been on shift I would have preferred making dinner and doing all the chores myself compared to asking other reluctant people to do them.

One guest had previously said he would cook dinner, but then said that he wouldn't because he had washed dishes at lunch. I continued my search...I looked everywhere. I asked another woman who was doing her laundry at the time to cook. She agreed (1 down). I then heard the doorbell ring, so I ran downstairs and thought, "Yes! Cooks are arriving!" I opened the door to see two men. I asked them if they would cook. One of them responded he was too tired. I pried. I implored. Still no. The other man had already helped cook breakfast and he refuses to cook/eat around ham (which we currently have 16 more of due to a ridiculously large donation). I went into the men's dorm and asked a new guest who was sleeping if he would cook. He thankfully obliged.

I needed one more cook.

I was stuck and feeling more and more frustrated and a bit hopeless. The people in the house needed to eat, but no one was willing to cook. I asked the first man again (the one who had originally offered to cook) as a personal favor. He said no and kept giving me serious attitude. I felt like I was going to lose it. I went upstairs again looking for cooks and I found no one. I could feel my eyes watering but I knew that once I let the first one fall, the flood gates wouldn't close. I was right.

I just started crying and I couldn't stop. It was so embarrassing! I didn't want the guests to think I was weak, or that I was an emotional female or soemthing...many of them already have plenty of deeply engrained gender stereotypes. But it was too late. I tried to hide it, but guests had seen me.

Once they saw me losing it, they started asking me why I was crying and so sad. "Did your boyfriend break your heart??" NO! I NEED DINNER COOKS DAMNIT!

I didn't say that. But I wanted to. Kyla stepped in while I tried to collect myself. Once the guests realized why I was freaking out, they really stepped up. I really appreciated how certain guests responded, offering to help. I just wish that other guests hadn't been so argumentative. I know that they have been through a lot, but being a volunteer and handling that much stress and responsibility is hard work, too.

As I got myself busy again, I was able to calm down, although per usual, my face stayed blotchy for a while.

Later that evening, I received a call from another shelter in El Paso wanting to know if we had space for a family (mother and three kids). I knew we had a room and I tried to get as much info as possible. The police drove them over. As I found out when talking to the mother, the four had fled Mexico the day before because of domestic violence. The husband had beat the wife and wouldn't let her eat. She repeated to me "yo era muy gorda. She wasn't fat when I saw her, though. I believed her though--I could see excess skin hanging from her arms.

After talking with her, I found out that she and her three kids were all born in the US--they were citizens. This meant that they would be eligible for the Salvation Army shelter...a shelter geared for families.

We don't accept guests on a basis of how much we think we will like them... that would be absurd. I have to say though, that I'm really glad they were eligible for the other shelter. In the 15 minutes or so minutes the family was there, the office was torn apart. Toys were flung everywhere, one of the kids stole a popscicle Kyla had been eating straight from her hand, and while I was talking to the mother, one of the kids kept screaming "beep beep!" as he drove a plastic car into my leg. The mother seemed bewildered and traumatized. I wish them the best, and I hope they are able to get the help they need at Salvation Army.