Rain falls steadily on aluminum roof, girls giggle in the next room, and Zac Brown tugs at a new development…a slightly homesick heart.
Driving up out of Antigua on Monday I fell into my typical transfixed state. I love road trips. I love getting lost in my head, in the scenery and the anticipation of the next turn. What I had not anticipated was how much this drive and this road would take me home.
Akin to a movie, for a moment I was in the present taking in overlooks, greenery and everything new. Then, the scene would transition. The focus would blur and I was headed west on 285 climbing up out of Denver, twisting and turning through the canyon…
In and out.
Back and forth.
Present, then far, far away.
I snapped back to reality when I crawled out of the car upon arrival at our ministry site. A small farming town built into the side of the mountain. It was cold and my Antigua appropriate sundress offered miserable protection to the biting, whipping cold on mountaintop.
How I longed for well-worn jeans, black fleece and Vasque trail shoes that are strategically packed away for the duration of our time here in Central America. Sight and now touch spurred on the thoughts…
Home, home.
Mondays’ mountain school had all male teachers and an average class size of maybe 15, predominately comprised of boys –- both novelties in comparison to schools at home.
On Tuesday we visited a school with 480 students divided into five classrooms. Five! Our first class had 45 students in 9 rows of 5 desks in a space 12’ by 16’ roughly (based on counting floor tiles). The area to stand and teach at the front was approximately 9‘ by 3.5’. Needless to say when I finished my part of the lesson I took up residence outside. The next class over had 68 students per a dear gal who mustered up the gumption to come and chat with me after she caught me peaking in the doorway, perplexed by the mass of teens. 68 student, my lands!
What would my teacher friends at home think, do, and proclaim if that was their lot day in and day out!?!
Wednesday brought a bit more familiarity, at least from a class size perspective. Our first school was quite lovely with its stone structure and volcano as a backdrop. (Side bar: I grew up completing tornado drills…do they have volcano drills?) Each time we have visited they have been hosting an event to the benefit of the parents. Last week, a Mothers Day celebration and this week tents were present to shield the parents from the summer sun while the children conducted oral exams. Applause was bountiful as families watched little ones rehearse their numbers, tell about the parts of a plant cell, sing and dance.
Hum, Mom, mentioned my niece and nephew had recent presentations at school; I wonder how those went?
Wednesday’s second school was, “the nicest in the city” per our contact. This struck me as odd. While they do have a snack bar, I was most disappointed in the balance of the amenities. Specifically, the absence of toilet paper and locks on the stall doors (I held on to relieve myself at this school based on his aforementioned “nicest” description. Lucky for me I am a seasoned World Racer and I had a stash of TP in my bag). My next shock was the class size, six boys. Six. I waited for the rest to file in after the bell but they never came. I strained my ears. It was eerily quiet. All right, six it is! Thankfully, they are a most engaging bunch. They talk and interact with us making our time with them quite pleasant. We’ve even been invited to go rock climbing with them next week!
Oh, rock-climbing, I remember doing that…at home.
It has been a balance this week, staying here and not drifting there. I suppose I was bound to become homesick eventually; at least, a little bit. I expect it will happen again, probably come Monday as we ascend the mountainside. When it does know two things: I will be wearing my jeans and I will be saying a little prayer for all of you that Hwy 285 brings to mind.
