EntreTodas' Closing

Alex Miller
Pennsylvania, USA

I remember walking into EntreTodas one morning to find all of the younger girls sitting around a table softly weeping. It was about a month after the new director Carolina had let the girls know about the closing and about an hour after the first girl had left. It was another day in the long, strange process of closing down the home of 18 girls, the day the closing really sunk in for everyone.

It was bizarre the way in which the girls had handled the news. The tías had split everybody into groups and done their best to surround the girls with volunteers, parents and friends while they were told that their home was going to close down. Chris and I took the younger ones into the sala de computación while it was happening and joined the rest when it was over. That night, the air was heavy and there were plenty of tears, but all evidence seemed to have disappeared the next morning. Before they knew their home was closing, they were all girls with some serious problems, and after they heard, they were all girls with serious problems. Everybody seemed to go about their business pretending that nothing was going to happen, at least until it actually started to happen.

For almost every girl I can think of, the closer their departure came, the more they seemed to realize what they were going to miss at EntreTodas. And as more girls left, those that remained seemed to get closer, or at least kinder, to one another. All of these emotions seemed to come out at the despedida we had at the home. Many of the girls had already left, but plenty came back to the hogar for the event. ET invited friends, family and all the volunteers. There were songs and dances and slideshows to celebrate all the girls and the tías. Everybody took turns making speeches, including six or seven of the girls, and not one of the girls could finish a speech without crying. It was one of those days that was both crushing and uplifting; you are warmed by the beauty of the thing you are crushed to let go of.

The whole experience gave some insight into what an hogar means to a kid. EntreTodas was a home in which you didn’t necessarily get to eat what you wanted, you had to put water-catching buckets all over the place when it rained, and you probably had to live with at least one rule and one person you didn’t like. What I came to realize is that for many, it can be their whole world. It was their home, safe and stable and filled with the people with whom they shared the 18th and Christmas.

Two groups of girls stayed together, with eight in one home and five in another. I’ve only visited these two homes with the most girls, and I was comforted by the sight of each one. They’re both big, green and clean. I got the feeling that the staff were involved and concerned people, and I only hope that they’re as warm and dedicated as the team from EntreTodas.

I myself have a tornado of memories that swirl through my head when I look back. Standing covered in egg and flower after foolishly starting a food fight with three girls, the saddest hug of my life as I said goodbye to little Rosalía* sitting alone on the steps before she left, and finding the farewell note that two girls had snuck into my pocket on my last day at the hogar. Working at ET was a rollercoaster of emotion for me, simultaneously the best and worst parts of my experience in Santiago. It was something both beautiful and ugly that I was crushed to let go of.

*Name has been changed.