sunshine_queen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sunshine_queen) wrote2005-10-11 09:39 pm
sunshine_queen) wrote2005-10-11 09:39 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Oh, today was so exciting!
For one thing, we went to the Hispanic Heritage show twice in one day, which meant a completely relaxing four day block. The other class was English, and I got my World Lit topic squared away with that bitch Holmes. I hate her.
AND MOMMY GOT ME A CREDIT CARD!
Apparently she got afraid that someday someone was going to not let me use hers because of the name discrepency, so she got me one in my name. With the same rules. I can't really use it, but it's there.
AND IT SAYS MY NAME! Aieeee.
Anyway! Volunteering rocked today- there were a lot of kids, but we were outside so it wasn't so overwhelming, and I am kind of in love with Yana.
Yana is new- I missed two weeks before last week, so she's been there less than a month. She's chubby and blonde and blue eyed and has the softest hair ever. She was annoying at first, 'cause she didn't listen- but really, really endearing.
So, today, when we were inside 'cause it was too hot and Yana had opened the gate and escaped for the millionth time, Dolly says to me, "It's so hard with her because she doesn't speak English or Spanish." Mind you, every single child I've encountered speaks at least one of the two, if not both. Even purely American kids speak Spanish because (1) so many others speak it and (2) the caretaker people speak it. "What does she speak?" I ask.
"Russian." Dolly replies. My jaw drops. "Russian?" I squeaked.
Yes. Yana was adopted from Russia not too long ago.
And oh my god my love for her increased tenfold. She really is a sweet little thing, if mischievous. Can you imagine being a little girl and being... transplanted from your country, to somewhere with a different language, and you never ever hear your own? Sure, she's learning English, but how weird must it be to never ever hear her native language?
There are pictures of all of the kids on the wall with their parents on the wall, and in the middle is Yana with her mom. "Who's that?" I asked, pointing, and Yana said her name. I pointed to who is ostensibly her mother. "Who's that?"
"Mama."
For one thing, we went to the Hispanic Heritage show twice in one day, which meant a completely relaxing four day block. The other class was English, and I got my World Lit topic squared away with that bitch Holmes. I hate her.
AND MOMMY GOT ME A CREDIT CARD!
Apparently she got afraid that someday someone was going to not let me use hers because of the name discrepency, so she got me one in my name. With the same rules. I can't really use it, but it's there.
AND IT SAYS MY NAME! Aieeee.
Anyway! Volunteering rocked today- there were a lot of kids, but we were outside so it wasn't so overwhelming, and I am kind of in love with Yana.
Yana is new- I missed two weeks before last week, so she's been there less than a month. She's chubby and blonde and blue eyed and has the softest hair ever. She was annoying at first, 'cause she didn't listen- but really, really endearing.
So, today, when we were inside 'cause it was too hot and Yana had opened the gate and escaped for the millionth time, Dolly says to me, "It's so hard with her because she doesn't speak English or Spanish." Mind you, every single child I've encountered speaks at least one of the two, if not both. Even purely American kids speak Spanish because (1) so many others speak it and (2) the caretaker people speak it. "What does she speak?" I ask.
"Russian." Dolly replies. My jaw drops. "Russian?" I squeaked.
Yes. Yana was adopted from Russia not too long ago.
And oh my god my love for her increased tenfold. She really is a sweet little thing, if mischievous. Can you imagine being a little girl and being... transplanted from your country, to somewhere with a different language, and you never ever hear your own? Sure, she's learning English, but how weird must it be to never ever hear her native language?
There are pictures of all of the kids on the wall with their parents on the wall, and in the middle is Yana with her mom. "Who's that?" I asked, pointing, and Yana said her name. I pointed to who is ostensibly her mother. "Who's that?"
"Mama."