by Carla Gomez Monroy
|
Mariana was too clever and too mature for a 12-year-old girl. She never wanted to do what she was supposed to and always tried to do what she was not supposed to. She looked more like 16 and openly made passes at the guys she liked, or was sweet, and tried to sound interesting and intelligent to them. With everybody else she was indifferent, rude, or aggressive. Towards the monitors she was especially ill disposed. Even when they where coordinating the most involving and fun activities, she was conflictive and confrontational. And when they asked her to help set and clear the tables, she arrived late to meals, would eat quickly, suddenly leave, and not come back until all had been done. Mariana was a street kid. She was also an abused kid and never spoke of it. I had not noticed her on the lively and noisy bus trip to the camp that was planned for forty kids of the same background-officially, that is, because the fact was that they were different kinds of kids, they had different backgrounds, and they had suffered different kinds of abuses. The campsite had been especially built with superb facilities in a beautiful, tropical jungle area. I forget the name of the place, a very famous place in the state of Veracruz, in the southeast of Mexico, where there are lots of eternally noisy birds and monkeys, but the place is especially famous, it is said, because of the uncountable number of witchdoctors that people from all over visited. The site was fenced to keep the children from getting lost. There were five enthusiastic monitors who were with the kids at all times. Their ages ranged from 24 to 28. Their activities were planned to keep the kids happy, entertained, and active. The idea was to try to keep them from running away, or in the case of some girls, from making it with the guys. The objective of the camp was to make them happy the whole week. All the monitors were very patient and had experience working with special groups of people. I had volunteered to help out, I was 21, and it was my first experience. One day, we all had a lot of fun out in the tropical rain playing tag in a different way. The ground was very slippery, and if you were not it, you had to run and slide like in baseball to be safe, and if you were it, just touching the others did not count, you had to grab and not let go of them, almost like in football. We all ended up soaking wet. After playing, Elisa, the oldest and most experienced monitor, was sitting on her bed changing her wet clothes when I came in. Mariana walked in right behind me and addressed Elisa, "Can I dry my clothes in the dryer?" Pulling a reluctant sock from her foot, without even looking at her, and with a 'n-now-what? expression on her face, Elisa said, "Why don't you just change your clothes and tomorrow they'll be dry?" "'Cause I washed all my clothes, 'n I don't have nothing else to wear," Mariana explained with exasperated tones. She was standing right in front of Elisa. Her expression was serious, her stare was profound. She had washed her clothes by hand that morning, and they were hanging on the clotheslines more wet than when she had hung them there. "No, you can NOT," was Elisa's simple and carefree answer. She was ungracefully rubbing her feet with both hands, concentrating on warming them before she put on her clean and dry pair of socks. "WHY not? What am I supposed to wear? What's wrong with taking my clothes to the dryer?" Mariana shot back, turning up the volume of her voice as she asked question after question. Her arms, at first, crossed tightly around her chest because she was chilling were now at her sides, her fists clenched with great anger and repression. "I don't know Mariana, I don't know what you can do. But you can NOT take your clothes to the dryer, is that clear?" Elisa roared back, firm and definite. She turned her back on Mariana and began brushing her hair, facing the wall. Mariana did not answer. She was only looking at Elisa's hair. "Is it clear?" asked Elisa sharply, raising her voice even more. "Go fuck ya fucking mother! Don't fuck with me," screamed Mariana, bringing a furious face even closer, her body so tense that it trembled. The moment Elisa heard the word 'fuck' the first time, she turned and faced Mariana. And in response to Mariana's attitude, she pulled up her small but sturdy body in a fearless manner. And shouted back, "Now you better watch it, Mariana. I'm not gonna put up with vulgar language and insults. You're being disrespectful and..." "Ya're always bothering me. Why ya never say anything to others," Mariana yelled while she moved away to get out of her clothes and put on her bathing suit. Elisa left the place furiously, walking fast, and looking for the other monitors. She did not care that it was still raining and she was going to get wet again. Mariana walked out of the dorm with her wet clothes in her hands. I noticed it and went along with her and told her she could use my clothes so as not to make the problem any bigger. She said she was going to get her clothes dried in the dryer and that Elisa didn't worry her. She went straight to the laundry room and asked the man who worked there if he could dry her clothes. She asked him very politely, yet acted distressed. The old man came close to her, took her clothes with a big smile, and asked, "Are you OK? It seems like something has happened to you." Mariana told him her version of the story. He told her not to worry about it and that she could go and swim while her clothes were in the dryer, and winking an eye, he added that he would use his own coins to run the machine. Later on I walked over to where the monitors were having a little meeting as they watched the kids. When Elisa finished telling them what had happened, the five of them planned that the next time Mariana did something-which they knew was going to be soon-they were going to put her in the shower with very cold water, regardless of what she was wearing. I didn't understand what was going on. I asked why punishment was being considered if that was one of the things that we were trying to avoid with the camp. Citlali was another monitor who had been with the team since they began making these special camps for kids who had been sexually abused, mistreated in other ways, or just because they were homeless or worked in the streets. She told me with her sweet, quiet voice that it was not the first time they had worked with Mariana, that it was very difficult to make her understand that what she was doing was wrong, and that even though the things she did or failed to do seemed like very minor breaches, she was always making trouble. She added that Elisa had nothing personal against Mariana, that she was very patient but that she firmly believed-as did the team-that what Mariana most needed was to learn to obey, to learn to do what she was supposed to, to learn that if she did not do it, there would necessarily be unpleasant consequences in the real world. Afterwards, while we were watching the kids playing in the swimming pool, I asked Citlali about Mariana's background. Mariana was the result of an unplanned pregnancy-an unwanted kid-and was raised by her single mother. Her mom always treated her very badly. She used to beat Mariana with all kinds of devices and forced her to sell things in the street, to keep the house clean, and to cook. Mariana ran away from home and went to her aunt's house, only to receive the same treatment. From there on, every single time that something happened to her, a stronger feeling of hatred towards adults grew in her, and towards females in particular. The time had come to take the kids out of the swimming pool. This task was always hard. The kids wanted to stay longer and play. The monitors were playing and shouting, trying to get them all out of the swimming pool. Mariana did not want to come out of the swimming pool. The monitors called her out again and again, but she pretended not to hear anything. The rest of the kids had little by little come out and were now watching through the fence that surrounded the pool. Citlali tried her kind and mellow attitude with Mariana. She was in the water near Mariana. Nobody could hear what Citlali was saying, but Mariana's answer-a simple 'NO'-was heard loud and clear by everybody. Elisa had just been watching. But then she yelled out at Mariana, "Hey, Mariana. Get out of there, right now! ... Mariana!? ..." ... Mariana pretended she did not hear. Elisa jumped into the swimming pool and began to pull her out. Mariana didn't put up much resistance, other than her loud screaming, "Let me go. Let me go. Ya're hurting me!" The other monitors took the kids to the showers so they would not see and hear what went on. Finally, Elisa, with a little help from Citlali, managed to take her out of the water. But Mariana was determined not to let herself be dragged any farther. Elisa was careful not to hurt her, so she gave up and walked away angrily. And the last thing that we could hear was, "You're not gonna have dinner tonight." Citlali just looked at Mariana for a few minutes, then she also walked away, deep in thought, not even noticing me. I came to where Mariana was and stood next to her the same way she stood: Her back against the fence, her face all tense, staring at the wet floor, and her arms folded against her chest. The only thing that I did not do was to put my long hair all over my face just as hers. Mariana, we all came here to be happy. I know that maybe you're not allowed to do everything you want to, but everything we do is to make you smile and have fun," I said. She was there in the same position, without so much as a blink since I looked at her. But now that I was very close to her, I noticed she had a big scar in her right hand. It was like a hole that went from her index finger to her wrist. I did not know if she was listening, but I kept talking and talking, never taking my eyes away from her scar. It really impressed me. I was trying to talk about the purpose of life and the obstacles we face in our lives. I told her stories and many of other things. After a while though, I feared that maybe my chat was senseless and stupid because I knew that she probably knew more than I did about life and obstacles. My stories were probably nothing compared to what she had been through. "Elisa is really mean with me," was the first thing she said to me. I looked at her face but she seemed like she had not talked. "Why do you think so?" I asked, pretending I had not noticed anything before. She told me that Elisa talked to her differently than she did to other kids, and that whenever she asked her for something, Elisa's answer was always negative, no matter what she asked her for. I suggested she avoid asking Elisa for permission, and that she should better go and ask the other monitors. This was to avoid conflicts between them. I also insisted that she should try to enjoy all the activities, even if she thought that they were silly. She agreed with me and she said she was going to try. She did not wanted to come inside with me, but she left the swimming pool and went and sat on the floor outside the laundry room, with her back close to a hole in the wall to feel the hot air coming from the dryer. I came into the room and the monitors asked me what had happened. "Nothing, I was only talking to her," I said while walking to the showers. "Don't change your clothes," Elisa said to me. When I turned to ask why, I noticed that all the monitors were still wearing their wet clothes. "We're gonna take Mariana to the cold shower," said Elisa with a wicked smile on her face. Roberto had taken all the kids to another place after they had showered and changed into dry clothes. "Here she comes," Citlali said looking through the curtains. Elisa ran to the window, and when she saw that Mariana was coming back carrying her dried clothes, she murmured shaking her head, "This is unbelievable." Mariana came into the dorm and walked straight to her bed. I was standing right between her bed and my bed. I was only looking at the monitors. Right after she put her dry clothes on the bed, Elisa, Citlali, and the two other female monitors jumped on Mariana and took her by the arms and legs and tried to take her into the cold shower. Mariana instinctively dropped herself to the floor resisting them, and reaching out to grab one of the beds to avoid being taken away, cried out in angry surprise, "Where the hell are you taking me?" "You're gonna take a real nice cold shower," was Elisa's ironic reply. When she heard this, Mariana's simple resistance turned into a wild and aggressive resistance. She twisted her body back and forth shouting, "Ya're hurting me, stop. Let me go!" Elisa, roughly trying to free Mariana's hand from the leg of the bed, was also shouting, "Come on, Mariana, you're hurting yourself. You better make it easy on yourself. We're taking you one way or another." I was trying to protect Mariana's head from hitting against the iron bed frame because she was kicking and shaking her head in all directions. It was four adults against a 12-year-old kid. I began feeling sorrow, and I definitely wanted to help Mariana. Mariana began kicking harder until she almost kicked Citlali in the face. Citlali let go of Mariana's foot and ran outside to look for Roberto. Roberto was the only man and the leader of the monitors due to his experience in working with special kids. Roberto came in, and kneeling on the floor besides Mariana, he said, "Hey, Mariana calm down. Citlali, take her foot. Elisa, move away and help Citlali." He took Mariana's arm and twisted it behind her back high up near her head. Mariana began screaming louder, "Stop, you're hurting me! Roberto, I can't take it anymore," and her voice began to sound as if she was going to cry. "Mariana, listen," Roberto said in a firm and loud voice, loosening the pressure on her arm a little bit to make her stop screaming. "I'm gonna let you go, but first you have to promise that you're going to do everything we ask you to do. You also are gonna apologize to Elisa. You're gonna respect everyone in camp, and you're not gonna have dinner tonight." As soon as Roberto finished talking, Mariana said in very low voice, "I wanna talk to Carla." Roberto gave me an inquisitive look, seeking my reaction. I just nodded. They let go of Mariana. She sat on the floor, her hair all messy. She was staring at the floor and her arms were folded onto her chest, again. The monitors backed away from where Mariana was. I waved my hand gesturing them to leave us alone. They all left, but before Roberto walked out of the door, he seemed to inquire with his eyes if I was sure. I only smiled at him. "Mariana what do you want to talk to me about?" I asked, not really knowing what to say or do, but, the struggle being over, I was relieved. I again adopted her position on the floor. I was trying to sound pleasant to her. She did not say anything. I was silent for a moment while I was thinking of a few alternatives to solve the problem, and of all the possible ways that everything could end. It did not seem like she was to break the silence, so I did. "Mariana, let's make an agreement between you and me. Every time you want something, you're gonna ask me. The same way, if the monitors want to tell you something, they have to tell ME, and I'll tell YOU. So this way, your relation with the monitors is gonna be through me, and there's not gonna be any more trouble between you and them. But you have to make an effort to be happy, to participate enthusiastically in the activities, to not hide anything from me, and to be honest with me. In the same way, I'm gonna be honest with you. What do you say about it?" I was taking her hair away from her face. She did not answer-again-and the monitors were waiting outside to see what was going to happen afterwards. "Mariana, I need a yes or no answer. I cannot do everything, if you do nothing. I really wanna help you. I know you're very nice and that's why I'm offering to help you." Mariana did not seem like she was going to move. "OK," she said. I turned my face looking for her eyes "OK, what? Let's make the agreement?". She only nodded, meaning yes. "Mariana look at my eyes. I'm gonna call the others, and you have to tell them about our agreement, is it OK?" She looked at me without lifting her head and answered, "Yes." I walked to the door and opened it. Everyone entered, but they stood near the door. I explained our agreement to them, and Roberto asked Mariana, "Do you agree, Mariana?". Mariana did not answer. Everybody was waiting. "Mariana, what's wrong? You just told me." I knelt in front of her. She had her back to the others. I was getting impatient, as well the others. "Come on, Mariana. Say yes or no," commanded Roberto with growing impatience. "Yes," Mariana quietly mumbled. "What?" asked Roberto with his hands on his hips expressing that he had had enough. Mariana said in very low voice, "Yes." Elisa looked at me and said, "Remember that she's not gonna have dinner tonight, 'cause I decided that before your agreement was made." This made me very upset. In the first place, Mariana had not said 'yes,' right away. In the second place, why was Elisa butting in when I was now in charge? It was then that I understood that it was going to be very hard to keep both sides happy. Time went by, and as I had predicted, Mariana was very cooperative at times, yet at other times she did as she wanted, and Elisa was always singling out Mariana, "And she did this, and she said that, and look at Mariana, and ." And to make matters worse, some of the kids that had become close to me before everything happened, were complaining that I was spending most of my time with Mariana-and I felt I needed them too. I did not want to break my part of the agreement, even if Mariana had repeatedly broken her part because I had taken it as a challenge. But I could not stand it anymore. The last day, before we started back to the city, Mariana did not want to help pick things up from the dorm and put them into the bus, as everybody else was doing. She was just sitting outside. I came and sat next to her and said, "You know what, Mariana? I've had it. I really did my best, but it's very hard to try to keep you and the others happy if none of you try to cooperate. So since you didn't keep your part of the agreement when you didn't want to, I don't see why I have to keep my part anymore." I waited a little just in case she wanted to say something. But since she did not say anything-as usual-I walked away. The bus ride was lively and noisy. I wanted to spend as much time as possible with all the other kids while on the bus. We sang, watched videos, talked and joked about everybody's feats in camp. We had dinner on the bus, two sandwiches, an apple, and some orange juice for each one. Sooner or later, one by one fell asleep. Mariana was quiet in her seat looking out the window. She was treated just like all the other kids, no special attention was paid to her. She did not enjoy any activity on the way back, but she did not fall asleep either. When we got to the children's home, the time to wake up everybody came. And everybody began helping with the luggage. Elisa was busy pulling out all the stuff from the main luggage compartment of the bus. But that didn't keep her from noticing that Mariana get off the bus with nothing in her hands, her backpack on her back. She did not let her chance go by, she shouted, "Hey, Mariana help up there." Mariana did not answer. I was going down the stairs of the bus and pretended I did not hear. Mariana had seen me and told me, "I'll be back." She addressed me, ignoring Elisa-as if I had been the person who asked her to help-and walked to the house empty handed. Elisa was paying attention to everything and said, "I bet, she's not coming back." I did not answer. I went into the bus for more things. When I was coming down again, I saw Mariana running back. I smiled. Elisa pretended not to notice her. Mariana came to where I was, gave me a piece of paper and said, "Carla, if you want to, you can call me." She looked from the paper to my eyes. Without saying a word, without skipping her profound look, I hugged her. She turned around and ran into the house. She had come back, but she did not help carry anything inside. I saw that on the piece of paper there were just seven numbers written on it-no name. Some of the other kids that came to give me a good-bye hug, looked at the paper, "You can call us too, to the same number." The monitors and I got back on the bus. The bus ride was peaceful and quiet. End. |
||
|