Kook-a-rachas and Zach Morris

20.01.07

I really don’t like them. I don’t know if it is their crunchy body. Maybe it’s their long antennae. But whenever I see one, I jump. Dead ones I don’t mind so much. In fact, I’ll hot glue them to a stick and make a movie at the expense of their carcasses. But live cockroaches and this girl just don’t mix. My boys had a fun time this week killing two for me. The one was big and his little friend decided that amidst the commotion, he would climb inside my running shoes on the ground. That meant that the Miss ran out of the classroom squirming as if one was crawling up my back. Thank goodness my boys aren’t as cruel as my dad and throw little papers at me after killing the insect as if it were still alive. This is why my father is not allowed to meet my boys.
Last week we had vacation Bible school at my church. I helped out with the 8-9 year olds, and as exhausting as it was, I had a lovely time. (Those British adjectives have a way of sticking around). I will try to get some pictures of that up soon. Using my Spanish lately has made me realize just how awful it is. I still consider myself fluent, but in the heat of the moment when I am to say something, I get the thought out but in a confused, drunken kind of way. It’s amazing these people still smile at me.
I brought a Saved By the Bell DVD to school this week and my kids are in love with Zach Morris. In fact, Cesar and Zach are very silimar in many ways, and we all have a good laugh at how comparable the two are. And, as a bonus, Slater mentioned that he wanted to “ditch school” and one of the girls was like, “Hey that’s one of our vocabulary words!” I’m so proud of those crazy kids.

Back in Action

The return trip to Sigua wasn’t as hectic as the one home. There was no mad dash for the airplane this time with a 50-lb. carry-on bag on my shoulder, thank goodness. Seeing as that is 10 times the amount this girl can bench press, I think the gods were looking favorably upon me. I found two of my fellow teachers hanging around in the Atlanta airport, so we had a few hours to catch up and get our last American meal before the road home.

I was ecstatic to see my kids again, and get right back down to the business of keeping their attention by their favorite saying, “Hey look at me—I’m beautiful.” At least this time I got more smiles than usual, maybe a reminder to them that I had returned for real. The majority of them thought that none of us Americans would return, for it often happens in this line of business.

A huge thanks to all of those that participated in the sponsorship program, those kids were in heaven. And then of course, “Take out your math books,” brought them back to reality. Each child had to choose one gift to give away either to a friend or sibling. They have written quick emails to you, which you should have received, and the letters are to come soon. They are continually asking questions about the people that “spent so much money on us!” Thanks for those who participated in other ways to make it possible: my flight home, new gifts, moo-la, b&n cards, raspberry-flavored green tea, and of course your prayers. It’s good to be back here, riding a bike that works—unlike my dad’s ghetto-fabulous one :-) speaking Spanish again, although it’s a bit rusty right now, and certainly being with those crazy kids of mine.

*****
I was sitting in the teacher’s lounge from about 7 until 8:15, lounging around—mostly trying hard not to fall asleep because I had class in ten minutes. The principal came in and said,
“Miss Gena, you were supposed to talk about patience Dec. 18 for the school assembly, but seeing how we didn’t have school that week, you have to do it today.”
“Oh okay,” I said.
“You know during Civic Hour.”
“Oh so in ten minutes?” I asked.
“Si.”
Luv-eh-lee. I sat back down in the small, wooden chair meant for pre-school kids. Put my headphones back in my ears and thought, “Welcome back to Honduras.”