First day going to Peto. From my last experience three years ago, I knew that on a good day Hungarians stare at blacks but when you are in the train; at close proximity, it is worse. Most of them kind of stare openly especially the children while the adults look when they think you can’t see them staring. Then they try as much as possible not to come very close to you. When they bump into you unexpectedly they quickly move away in fright…you know like when you see a spider but you can’t scream: a mixture of fear and disgust.
When the train is full and they have to hold the same pole with you to avoid falling on the floor, they would look carefully at the place you have placed your hands on the pole and ensure they give just enough space so your hands never meet. I remembered three years ago when my family friend (she followed us on the last trip) and I wanted to buy ice cream at a mall ,we saw a little girl ( she couldn’t be more than six years) who used her hands to cover her nose when she stood beside us until she left our side. Thank God for our sense of humour, we both laughed it off and brushed it aside.
So when we boarded the train this morning and I saw the same attitude all over again, I was not surprised. However, it would be unfair of me if I don’t point out that some of the elderly people in Hungary love little black children but of course I can’t say they love the parents of the black children.
They smile at the children. They say hello and want to touch their hair. I must confess that when some, (definitely not all) see you standing in the train and you have a little kid with you, they would relinquish their seats for you.
When I see the friendly ones, I smile when I see the ones with disgust on their faces, I keep a straight face. When I see the ones that stare at me openly I stare back or just look the other way. This time around I have plans of enjoying my summer not even racial discrimination could ruin my mood.
When we got to Peto we met other families waiting at the lobby. Some people were coming for the first time while others had been coming for years. A Muslim woman from Iraq who lived in UK told us they were there for the first time. They wanted to know if that was our first time too? When we told them we had been there before they asked us if coming was worth it and I said yes.
Eventually Nimmy was assessed and she was referred to the kindergarten class. When the therapy was about to start for the first day, Nimmy had three other children in her group. A pretty Muslim girl from England, a lovely boy from Jordan and an amiable girl from Russia. All the parents met each other and you could see that everyone was concerned for their child.
Most of them were coming for the first time and I could see they were a bit tensed just like I was three years ago. Today, I was not. I have no plans of being tensed during these therapy sessions.
I fully understood that we are not there for a cure. There is none for Cerebral Palsy yet except it comes from God. Nimmy is there to learn every day skills of sitting, standing, using her hands, trying to walk, attempting to feed herself. That doesn’t get fixed in one month. It’s a lifelong learning. We are here to have Nimmy learn these skills through conductive education which uses play therapy, repetition, singing and fun to learn everyday skills that you and I take for granted.
The therapy started with a massage which Nimmy enjoyed but when it got to the therapy proper she kept crying and crying. The first week is usually like that. Getting her muscles to cope with the tasking activities.
By the time it was all over for the day, Nimmy slept all the way home and didn’t wake up for two hours.
Meanwhile her darling sister Pemmy was entertained by daddy until Nimmy was through.
30 days in Hungary Day 4- Mon (17.07.17)First day going to Peto. From my last experience three years ago, I knew that on a good day Hungarians stare at blacks but when you are in the train; at close proximity, it is worse. Most of them kind of stare openly especially the children while the adults look when they think you can’t see them staring. Then they try as much as possible not to come very close to you. When they bump into you unexpectedly they quickly move away in fright…you know like when you see a spider but you can’t scream: a mixture of fear and disgust. When the train is full and they have to hold the same pole with you to avoid falling on the floor, they would look carefully at the place you have placed your hands on the pole and ensure they give just enough space so your hands never meet. I remembered three years ago when my family friend (she followed us on the last trip) and I wanted to buy ice cream at a mall ,we saw a little girl ( she couldn’t be more than six years) who used her hands to cover her nose when she stood beside us until she left our side. Thank God for our sense of humour, we both laughed it off and brushed it aside.So when we boarded the train this morning and I saw the same attitude all over again, I was not surprised. However, it would be unfair of me if I don’t point out that some of the elderly people in Hungary love little black children but of course I can’t say they love the parents of the black children. They smile at the children. They say hello and want to touch their hair. I must confess that when some, (definitely not all) see you standing in the train and you have a little kid with you, they would relinquish their seats for you. When I see the friendly ones, I smile when I see the ones with disgust on their faces, I keep a straight face. When I see the ones that stare at me openly I stare back or just look the other way. This time around I have plans of enjoying my summer not even racial discrimination could ruin my mood.When we got to Peto we met other families waiting at the lobby. Some people were coming for the first time while others had been coming for years. A Muslim woman from Iraq who lived in UK told us they were there for the first time. They wanted to know if that was our first time too? When we told them we had been there before they asked us if coming was worth it and I said yes.Eventually Nimmy was assessed and she was referred to the kindergarten class. When the therapy was about to start for the first day, Nimmy had three other children in her group. A pretty Muslim girl from England, a lovely boy from Jordan and an amiable girl from Russia. All the parents met each other and you could see that everyone was concerned for their child. Most of them were coming for the first time and I could see they were a bit tensed just like I was three years ago. Today, I was not. I have no plans of being tensed during these therapy sessions. I fully understood that we are not there for a cure. There is none for Cerebral Palsy yet except it comes from God. Nimmy is there to learn every day skills of sitting, standing, using her hands, trying to walk, attempting to feed herself. That doesn’t get fixed in one month. It’s a lifelong learning. We are here to have Nimmy learn these skills through conductive education which uses play therapy, repetition, singing and fun to learn everyday skills that you and I take for granted.The therapy started with a massage which Nimmy enjoyed but when it got to the therapy proper she kept crying and crying. The first week is usually like that. Getting her muscles to cope with the tasking activities.By the time it was all over for the day, Nimmy slept all the way home and didn’t wake up for two hours.Meanwhile her darling sister Pemmy was entertained by daddy until Nimmy was through.
Gepostet von Diary of a Special Needs Mum Initiative am Montag, 24. Juli 2017
