Crê-Ser and How it Instilled in Me the Fear of Getting Attacked (and other such poorly-constructed English sentences lol)

Okay, so let me just say that this is the second post in the same day, because I have much much much more to tell =)

Um, first of all, I feel like Rio deserves more than the paragraph I’m going to give it, but ah well. Rio (pronounced “hee-you”) de Janeiro is wonderful. I loved it, it’s a real city! But it’s a beach, too, home to Copacabana and Ipanema. It gets its name because it’s surrounded by mountains, and when the Portuguese settlers arrived, they saw a large body of water from in between two mountains. They mistook it for the mouth of a grand river, and since it was January ("Janeiro" being January in Portuguese), they named it Rio de Janeiro (River of January). Turns out there’s no river, it’s a bay, jaja. But regardless, if any of you want to go to Rio with me when I go back in the hopefully near future, let me know—you’re officially invited =)

So today was our first official day of work, though it was still only orientation. This entire week is preparation for the first Colonia de Feria (there’s some kind of ^ accent mark in there somewhere, jaja), a week-long camp designed specifically for Autistic children. The first week is for children between the ages of 2 and 7 and the second for children between 8 and 14. There’s a team of professionals who have been working at Crê-Ser since Eliana founded it, a bunch of women who are really cool and are all either Psychologists, Therapists, or some combination—Talita, Manu (she surfs, it’s so cool jaja), Hellen, Ione (she’s a doctor), etc. Then there’s Shanah and I, who are presented as the equivalent of “special guests” on the flyer announcing the Colonia de Feria, jaja. There are also about 12 college students from the nearby Faculdade (don’t ask me to explain the Brasilian school system, it’s ridiculously complex, and though I’ve asked about 3847 people to explain it to me, I still don’t get it, jaja) who are basically interns along with us, though they are at least Psychology students.

This week, we’re getting familiarized with each other and the Faculdade students are also getting familiarized with all of the Crê-Ser staff and the building itself, along with all the different types of games and activities that we use to stimulate communication and understanding in the children (crianças). Since we’re going to have one intern (or more, read on) to each child, it’s important that we get used to learning how to deal with Autistic kids. A small group of us stayed with Hellen for more than an hour as she dealt with “her kid,” a 12-year-old boy named Yuri that has both Classical Autism and Down Syndrome. Can I just say at this point that I have already suffered my first battle wounds—though 12, Yuri is nowhere near his actual age in terms of mental development and not only is unable to speak, but has a fascination for beating himself and other people. Two people have to tend to Yuri whenever he is at the Center because he is ridiculously strong for his small size and grabs hold of people’s hair and hands, digging his nails in (I swear my pinky will now forever have a scar, jaja) and sometimes biting as well.

My job is not going to be easy, and I frankly did not expect that. Yuri is an example of the least developed child, which means my other encounters are far more likely to be more positive than having him move his hand so fast toward my hair that my karate reflexes kicked in and I blocked his movement without even realizing it. At the same time, though, none of these children are what society considers “normal.” Their world is so different from ours, I try to fathom it and have trouble and then feel incapable because I can’t relate and therefore I can’t understand. We are trying to teach these children to be autonomous, because right now most of them can’t write, seemingly don’t respond to the words we repeat over and over again, can’t brush their own teeth, and can’t communicate through speech, only grunts and occasional screams. I wish I could take these kids in my arms and shake them out of it and magically make them normal and able to participate and be accepted in society. Ignorance. They live in worlds so different from ours, and try as we might to improve their communication and teach them to play and interact with others, they will still see things differently and perhaps always be different. We can make improvements, but we can’t make everything better. I don’t think I’ve ever come across something that wasn’t possible. I remember in like the 4th grade, when our teacher asked us if we really thought anything was possible, to which I responded with an emphatic “yes!” I’ll never forget how my best friend at the time answered no, because you couldn’t be a Nascar driver if you were blind. I remember frowning at her pessimism at the time—obviously technology or something would figure out a way to do it, or the blind driver would just memorize the route and all the other drivers would be careful not to crash into him.

And though that was 10 years ago, I maintain that same innocence, something which I feel is likely to be taken away by the end of this internship. Because I can’t help but think about all the ways in which I could have ended up with a different life—say, for example, preferring to pull at hair and always biting down on my hand.


PS There are homemade mini fireworks (or attempts at fireworks) just about every night, and I haven't been able to get over them because they still sound like gunshots to me! Oh dear.