Joan Corrigan, from Belnaleck, is currently working as a volunteer with sick children in Lima, the capital of Peru. Here she writes about how she is settling in, and the experience of celebrating Christmas in a very different way.
'It's the 3rd of January, 9 am, the sun is hot, uncomfortably hot. Edmund, who is four years old, is doing cartwheels on the sofa. Last night, teenagers played air guitar with crutches to music.
'This jubilant atmosphere was not what I expected to see before I came. I was wrong. Every child in this home - there are approximately 60, from newly born up to 27 years old - has and will experience layer upon layer of vulnerability, socially, physically, financially, educationally. No one will empower them, and they can't empower themselves. Amidst this reality, they have acquired a survival skill, an independence which manifests their desires within their realities.
'I work with children whose health problems depict their life history. Many babies here, less than one year old, are waiting for, or have had operations on cleft lip and palate. A likely cause of this is thought to be the mother's malnutrition when pregnant.
'Segundo and Concepsion are 17 and 11, but have eight-year old bodies. They have hormone imbalances, meaning they won't reach puberty without medical assistance, another sign of malnutrition.
'In my first few days here, I am based just outside Lima, which is vast, dusty, unpredictable, heavily bilboarded, basic and manic. I saw its shanty towns, they jut out of dusty sterile quarry like mounds, layering the city's circumference like a cake. The government has provided outside lights and steps for them, but they are without anything else," she continues.
'Peru is in debt of about 27 billion dollars. The government has a history of vile corruption, greed and incompetence. Services I would take for granted, such as job seekers allowance, are dreams for the poor here. In fact, to give blood here, it is the person giving that must pay for doing so.
'The founder of the home where I am based, is a Franciscan brother from Tampa, Florida called Tony Lazarra. He is a doctor who left a life of wealth to come here. He employs nurses and cooks and monitors the children's health. In the home you will find more laughter than tears. Young children with missing limbs limp around me, teenage boys are covered in burns, some have tumours, little girls wear head scarfs after their chemo.
'However, there is an adrenaline and a spark in them all. What is palpable is their genuine pleasure in each other's company. Some of these children have been abused. Disabilities are not looked upon well here. Some are from shanty towns and have been left to die. Some were found on the streets, making their way in Lima in groups that have left their family. I have not seen many parents visit although, yesterday a lovely father of a boy came looking very humbled and close to his son.
'Getting here is not easy for them. For those whose family come to visit or take them for a few days, goodbyes are hard and watching it pulls on the heart strings. Anna, a two year old girl started to walk last week with a volunteers. The simple yet important things are things I see, not their mothers. Some children have been brought here and the family never return for them. They are no longer contactable.'
Detailing a typical day, Joan explains: "My day begins at seven when breakfast is eaten as it would in a boarding school. Everyone has their chores and it works like clockwork. Every day is different. I read to the children, do colouring in with them, take the little babies down to the garden with the rest to play. We also go to the park daily.
"I began an English class last week for the older boys. It is great fun and they are great students. That happens at 8pm. I am not enjoying the food a lot, but am relishing in a feeling of freedom. I worry about their lives outside the home, and what they will return to.
"It is hard to try to explain what I have seen and learned, and it is harder still to conclude on a world that is tragic, yet full of love. I, as a first world dweller, am very reluctant to make any statement on these children's behalf for fear of patronising them. I respect them too much to try. I know they have never known wealth, and have scarcely known good health. How they feel inside, I simply do not know.
"Here in this home though, they have encountered for the first time real safety, real structure and room to develop. They inspire me in a way like I have never been before. The bear-hugs I received for giving Christmas presents. Their complete trust in me, a stranger.
"Volunteers come from mostly America and Ireland. It is they who give little babies the TLC they need and help learning and interaction. A beautiful interdependence has begun for me here. I teach and am taught. I give and am given to. I care and am cared for," she adds.
