tifi selman

my girls health discussion group started monday and i had to switch gears a bit from what i thought i would be teaching. i planned for lessons with teenage girls around sexual health and safe relationships. however, seeing as most of the older girls went to visit family/friends over the summer break, really only the little ones are left behind. again, these little tifi are true orphans, many from the post-earthquake influx here in the southern part of the country.

they have more energy than you can possibly imagine and they are adorable.

we began our group with nine girls, one of the haitian teachers and myself in a circle. the teacher explained that they begin and end their groups with a prayer. so, i expected one of the girls to pray in creole and then for our lesson to begin. instead, two of the girls grabbed my hands and i watched all nine of them join hands, close their eyes real tight and begin to sing. it was seriously like the hoos down in hooville. from the smallest (age 4) to the tallest (age 14) they sang the most beautiful prayer i've ever heard. i couldn't even close my eyes; i couldn't stop watching them! it was a long prayer-song and i was amazed at the 4 and 5 year olds who knew every word.

they finished and proceeded to stare at me as if to say, okay what's next? then, we took turns each standing in the middle of the circle and saying our names, ages, and grade in school. after, everyone sat down and we started our lesson of the day.

monday's topic was dental hygiene. we talked about teeth and tongues and how to brush and when to brush and how long to brush. then, i asked for a volunteer to brush her teeth for the class. gelda, age 5, calmly walked to the front and declared that she would be my volunteer. i had a little toothbrush and i made the girls tell me how much toothpaste to use. then i asked the girls to help coach her on how to brush. we talked about circular motion and making sure to brush all sides of the teeth. after a few minutes, i hit a roadblock. i had know idea how to say "spit" in creole. oh dear. so, i held out the little bowl i brought and said "spit." gelda just looked at me with her little cheeks full of toothpaste. luckily, kids are quick. some of the older girls realized what i meant and i began to hear a chorus of "krache." gelda understood this and used my bowl accordingly.

then, i passed around paper and crayons and instructed the girls to color what they thought good dental hygiene was. i'm not show how much was lost in translation or in the girls having more preferable things to color, but i saw a spectrum of teeth, toothbrushes, flowers, people, and other indistinguishable drawings. after a while, we cleaned up our crayons and i took a picture of the kids holding their artwork.

these kids know digital cameras. so they descended on me like hawks, all wanting to see themselves in my camera. i'm proud to say that both my camera and myself made it out alive.

then we spent 20 minutes or so just playing games. i let the girls decide what to play and learned how to play "sable, dlo" which means "sand, water" and you draw a line down the middle of the room. one side is sand and the other is water. you have one person who shouts out either sand or water, quickly and you have to jump onto either side. the person can repeat or change up and you have to think fast. if you jump to the wrong side, you're out. i did not win. these little girls are good. we finished cleaning up and then got back in our circle for the ending song-prayer. then, i walked them back to their house in the village here at espwa and told them, 'ademe' - i'll you tomorrow!

tuesday and wednesday followed the same suit with the girls focusing on food hygiene, handwashing, and body hygiene. we had a volunteer wash their hands using soap, clean water, and making sure to wash all surfaces including forearms and fingernails :-) today we had a volunteer take a pretend shower. this meant that she stood in the front of the room and the girls took turns telling her what parts of her body she had to wash. it took a while, but we even had someone tell her to wash behind her ears.

we're using a classroom in one of the schools and it's a basic building with no windows or doors, just openings for the air to flow through. this means we have many tigason (little boys) who are inquisitive and want to break into the girls only group. and that is why the title of this entry is 'tifi selman.' this is the phrase i have used more than any other this week. tifi selman! tifi selman! every time one of those pesky little boys tries to break into my girls group. somehow i think that tendency to be onery does not change when they get older.

in any case, i'm trying more than ever to understand the language and to be able to communicate with the girls. i have one of the young boys who has been helping me translate and will have paige help translate next week when we talk about more sensitive girl issues.

but on the whole, i am learning that there are so many different ways to communicate. touch is huge. they hold my hands and give me kisses and just hang on. i try to reinforce them by holding them and just listening to what they say even when i don't understand. if they remember nothing from the lessons, i will still count the whole thing as gain.

tomorrow we're going to learn how to cut our nails and if i can get into town in the morning, i will buy some nail polish and we'll have a girly afternoon. friday is going to be more of a funday and we're going to talk about shampooing hair. i found a bunch of hair stuff, so we're going to get into pairs and do each other's hair.

i realize hair and nails are a bit of a stretch for strict public health lessons, but i'm really excited for them.

i was helping some other volunteers today with a documentary they are doing and in the interview one of the guys, chris, asked me why i'm here, what motivates me, and how this work interfaces with my own personal faith.

doing the nails of 8 year old haitian girls is my answer his questions.

applying nail polish is not a life-saving feat. it does not nourish the appetite. it does not quench thirst. it does not solve problems. it does not cure disease.

but, the act of putting nail polish on the little grimy hands of these tifi here shows them and everyone else that someone thinks they mean something. someone values and respects who they are, not what they can do or give. someone thinks they are important just because they exist. each one, individually.

as much as it exhausts me, it is a privilege to be able to be here and to do this work.