Ixchelt, Futbol y Un Arcoiris

           Today was a great day. Hoy estuvo un dia buenisimo. The fourth day of the school year, and I determinedly began the process of knowing my 70 some students’ names. Put an emphasis on began; I address them confidently when as they sit sedentary in a neat little row, but when they exercise their mobility, eso es un otro cuento (that is another story). Hey you have brown hair, brown eyes, brown skin, a navy blue skirt, white shirt, and white socks that rise above the ankle. Clearly your name is Jose...or is it Josue? Andrea..no Adrianna...Arnaldo Alejandro Mario Maria MariaDelMar Juan O. Juan C. Luis S. Luis A. Luis G? Or are you one of my personal favorites, Ixchelt?

            Though the identities of my students can still be a jumble, I do feel much more included in my classroom now. This has not really been the case thus far as I have only been observing (I start teaching in about a week). My day solely consisted of grading, observing, reading the class literature and memorizing names, yet I considered it a success. Succinctly illustrated, moments after school ended my wonderful Honduran host mama, Diana, asked me with her contagious ubiquitous smile, “Estas orgullosa?” “Are you proud? “si” I replied.  

            From school I traveled mere blocks to the supermarket with Diana and her daughter (also one of my students). Here I managed to ask a worker “where is the ham of the body?” Jamon really is just one letter different from jabon: soap. Mistakes are regular occurrences as you can understand, and they always make for a good laugh for all involved.

            Upon arriving home, I agreed to participate in the soon-becoming-ritual of playing sports with my neighbor/cousin/8-year-old friend. (First his grandmother called me over to make sure he was not manipulating me into playing with him every day. I assured her I had sufficient capacities to say no to Josue’s ador/ing/able face when I wanted to. I do really appreciate how these people are so thoughtful.) Frisbee turned into futbol in the street, and Josue and I were joined by 5,6,7 other neighborhood kids who now scream “GRAIS!” as they collide into my legs every time I am near, consequentially making my day.  Speaking of legs, who would have known that while playing against these Honduran soccer players since birth my long legs could actually compete...yet only if they are 12 and under.

            As the oldest, maintaining our physical safety falls into my jurisdiction. Abruptly made aware of a passing car, I shepherded the players to the sidewalk, wiped the sweat from my face, breathed, and glanced heavenward. Too soon the mountains above stole my barely-recovered breath. Stolen by above above the mountains, rather. It was a gift from God: an Arcoiris.

            Arcoirises are regular occurrences here, and people don’t revere the beauty as enthusiastically as I did (I may or may not have shouted to all my family members and neighbors to come outside quickly). This highlights that universal problem of, in my opinion, Inappropriate Blasé-ness. Why does one’s awe and gratitude always seem to disintegrate when routine and expectations have deeply taken root into our beings? Though I was excited about this sublime manifestation of Glory, I wonder what other awesome thing I am overlooking today? The touch of baby’s finger on my cheek, the sweet harmonies emanating from the radio tapping every foot within earshot, the projector displaying new words to be ingested by the learning. Grandiose or secret, so much really can be awesome, if only… Ok enough. This blog is not my journal after all. That said I am struggling to find the balance of what this is meant to be, and who it is meant for. Philosophy or schedule? You or me? Surely a blog can be all of the above. Wow I’m rambling.  

            Soon after the Arcoiris, I unpopularly called the game a quits and headed in to eat a light and late dinner, helped prepare lunch for tomorrow, and write most of this post in a moonlit garden in the back corner of our plot. Now to bed, and thank God for a lovely day!

Below, I have pasted together a short film for your enjoyment. I eat so much cheese here it has even permiated into this movie; feel free to shed a tear in mockery. Also listen closely to me butcher this new vocab word and hear my friend ask what on earth I am saying. The woman standing in the gate is at my house.

Oh and thanks to mom’s work for this little video camera... moreover thanks for her disinterest in technology. (And of course thank you ma for the constant generosity that is the reason for 75% of my possessions).  Hasta Luego Amigos!