KIDS ARE KIDS



A day in the local school where I volunteer during the current month of summer school

7:30am The students, the teachers and myself all converge from different dirt paths onto the cobblestone road that leads to the public school. Each Guatemalan town center is a square and contains a public park. The Church is always located on the eastern side, the municipal buildings on the northern. In this town, San Pedro, the school is also on the northern side.

7:35 Each child, in silent unison sweeps the sign of the cross over their small bodies and we begin with prayer. One child leads in a call and response fashion. Today the little girl, as poor as she is, prayed for the children who live in the streets and are sick.

8:00: I take attendance to the best of my ability while the straglers wander in. It is my daily Spanish warm up: Josue Luis Guadelupe Rodreguez, Sandra Maria Hernandez Lopez, Eli Filipe Consuelo Velasquez



8:30: The bang on their squeaky, dilapidated desks in the rhythm of "we will, we will, rock you" as I hand out letters from their pen pals in the next town over. The envelopes have been hand fashioned from old newspapers and glue. Letters are a strange concept since all of their family live in the same town if not the same house. I spend the next hour helping with ideas and, ironically, spelling. They finish their cards with a drawing- the entire class shares two boxes of colored pencils and a pack of markers.

10 - 10:30 The entire nation pauses to rest. It is a chance to grab a snack or have breakfast and catch up on gossip. Daily I am escorted by most of the class to a tiny tienda on the corner of town square for a choco banano (.50Q = 7 cents). Some kids buy fruit (loquats), coconut freezie pops or fried pig skin. We eat slowly in the shade and watch the ladies wash clothes in the public laundry pools in central park.

By 10:30 the boys were turning toothbrushes into swords in their attempt to speed the drying process before returning their brushes into plastic bags. Needless to say, the girls weren´t thrilled with tiny toothpaste stars that appeared on their cloths but the guys thought it was the coolest thing that had happened all morning.

Everyone cups their hands to their faces to smell the soapy fragrance after being allowed to wash their hands.

11:00 The tin roof is now radiating heat like an oven. The teacher gives this explanation of how to play KITBALL- its like baseball but you use your feet. Then sends all 33 kids outside to practice with me- all by myself - trying to explain in my horrible Spanish all they ways that kickball isn´t like baseball... the pitcher rolls the ball instead of throwing it, fielders actually catch the ball with their hands (not your feet), you have to tag the base and in order, you can´t block people running to a base, you can´t kick the ball backwards and it goes on and on.


12:00 Everyone grabs a broom, mop (and sometimes sling shot if we aren´t watching closely) and tidies up the classroom. It is amazing how much dust we kick up in one morning.

12:30 Woops and sqeals as kids run out of the class, bang the metal gate as they leave the school and head home for lunch.



Adios, Andrea Maria Hiltonia Walinbequita.