The Goodbyes Begin

The countdown has begun!  I am five days, one essay, one exam, one bus ride, and two flights away from being back in the United States.  Things started to both wind down and get crazy at some point last week.  The frenzy of studying and writing last minute assignments began, but so did the process of saying goodbye.  Throughout the semester, one or two times a week, I would volunteer for the organization Amigos de Almanjayár.  The organization was an after school program for children who are underserved and need extra help.  I have written about the organization a couple of times in this blog, when I first started and when we celebrated Carneval.  However, now that I have finished my volunteer work with them, I have begun to realize how much I will miss the kids I worked with.  As frustrating and horribly behaved as they were, they became a huge part of my experience here, and saying goodbye to them was very hard to do.

Although the kids were the main part of volunteering, it was a privilege to get to know the other volunteers involved with the organization.  I was able to get to know both American and Spanish students through volunteering I would not have otherwise.  When I first got to Spain my Spanish was definitely not up to par, but the other volunteers always helped me when I needed help communicating.  Amigos de Almanjayár is organized and run by two women, Blanca and Maria.  Blanca and Maria know every child and care about each one, but they also care about their volunteers.  They had so much patience with me when I couldn’t communicate.  Every single time we left after volunteering they thanked us; even the day my kids ran amuck while I sat in a corner and cried.  They respected us, helped us when we needed it, and always made us feel welcome in Almanjayár, even if others didn’t. 

Of course, the main part of volunteering with Amigos of Almanjayár was working with the children.  Children who were hard to control, who were reluctant to learn, and who once made me cry.  I was verbally and physically abused.  Often times, I left Almanjayár swearing I would never return, but I always did, because inevitably something would make the volunteering worth it.  The funny thing was is that it was never, ever something big.  Something little, like teaching them an American hand clapping games and learning Spanish games in return, or helping them understand subtraction, was all I needed to go back the next day.  A lot of times it was something they did for us.  A few times I worked with a child who insisted on teaching me new vocabulary, and I actually learned a lot from her.  Every time we went, we would run into kids while we walked down the street and be greeted with hugs.  And every single session, no matter how bad, they found a way to make us laugh, whether a giggle or uncontrollable laughter. 

I know my reflections on volunteering are corny and even cliché.  Volunteering in Almanjayár taught me so much about the culture and language of Spain, and about myself and what I could do.  In a way, this blog post is my unofficial thanks to the organization.  Blanca and Maria welcomed us into their organization and always made me feel a part of something.  When I first got into Spain I was sure I would never fit in here, that I would never be able to immerse myself completely into the culture here.  I was going to school, living with a host family, traveling and making friends but Amigos of Almanjayár was one of the first places I felt I really belonged to here in Spain.  The kids might have laughed at my accent, called me ugly or weird looking, and misbehaved, but they also made me feel welcome every time they taught me a new word or gave me a huge hug.  They wanted to get to know us, and be our friends.  The organization did for us exactly what it promises to its children.  They took in students, my friends and I from API, who needed to learn, and gave us the tools and environment to do that.  Whenever I think back to my study abroad experience here in Spain, I will always remember my Amigos de Almanjáyar.