Sorry guys, I haven't updated in a while, but to be fair, I haven't had a computer in a while. I will try to make up for the lack of communication by posting a few times in the coming week.
Well, well, well. Where did we leave off?
Ah yes. It was winter (for most of you). I had just returned from the Amazons, and I was introducing you all to my new friends.
Well, since then, things have been a bit more routine. Not to the extent of boredom, but I am not shooting monkeys with blowguns, either. I will start off by describing what it is exactly that I "do".
I believe I have described the school already, but my position has changed somewhat since the topic was last discussed. Last year, I taught one class half of the time. Now, I teach 3 classes 3 different subjects all of the time. Due to some financial issues, most of the Colombian national teachers were forced to find other, paying, positions. That left 4 teachers; Yury, a 19-year-old Bogotana voice student, Luke, the brit who I mentioned in the last post, Mary, the Australian superwoman also mentioned previously, and yours truly, the 23-year old gringo with absolutely no previous educational experience.
We wrote up a pretty full schedule for the kids, including 9 different subjects and recess, so when it came time to divy up the classes, we each had to take on quite a bit. I, myself, am responible for Mathematics, Natural Sciences, most of the Music classes, and making sure the kids don't kill each other during recess. On top of that, I am now the official keeper-of-the-keys, which essentially means first one there, last one to leave.
This all sounds like a lot, and it is, but I have welcomed the change. Last year, I was a bit frustrated; I had travelled thousands of miles, and I barely did anything. Now, I feel very involved in the work that is being done here, and the kids no longer see me as another awkward “mono” visitor, but as one of their teachers. The change is actually manifest in the terminology used. When speaking about one of the full time teachers, the children use "Mi Profe...", which is literally translated "My teacher...". That is, My Teacher Tyler. A small change, but it means quite a lot.
Two major changes have come as a result of this new level of responsibility. One, I am busy now. There are days when I am at that school for as long as the sun is out (there aren't many light bulbs in that building that work anymore). As I said, I welcome the new work load, but there have been some things that have been sacrificed. I should confess that, while I did indeed come down here to work with the kids, I had also hoped to get some serious reading and music writing done. Unfortunately, that immense amount of leisure time I was planning on no longer exists.
The second change that has come about concerns the children I work with themselves. When I arrived, I possessed and displayed an appropriate amount of pity for the children. This is the kind of pity that will "pull on your heart-strings" when you watch a movie about Africa, or see a Sally Struthers save-the-children commercial. It's the kind of pity that, given the right timing and ample resources, might cause a wealthy suburbanite to move to Colombia for a bit. That pity, however, will not sustain anyone wanting to work with poverty or suffering. Allow me to explain.
The government has been threatening to completely destroy the neighborhood in which most of our children live. What that means for us is, these children will leave us, and we will begin looking for replacements. I was indignant. I don't want replacements! I want these kids! That's when it struck me. I no longer viewed these children as poor little street kids that need my help. I had taken some level of ownership in their futures, and as a result, I had invested deeply in their lives. Now, these were not simply abused and neglected children, these were MY neglected and abused children, and I could hardly contain my anger towards those that were mistreating them.
Eventually, the fact that they were dirty, beaten and malnourished didn't matter. They could have been perfectly normal rich kids, and I would have felt the same love and concern regardless. They were all moving to a barrio down south, and I was ready and willing to stay as long as it took to make sure they didn't become victims of poverty and indifference.
Well, some very unfortunate things happened, and I will tell you that they are no longer with us...or me. The details of this story merit another post, which I hope to have up for you all very soon, but you should know that I was crushed. I wept openly at the sheer injustice of their situation, but more, I wept because I lost children that I would have taken as my own in an instant. I lost several human beings whom I loved and cared for deeply, and recovering from that has been a difficult process.
There are new kids at Luz y Vida, and I have to remind myself every day that these children deserve as much love as I was willing to expend on the 'Colombianita' kids. The thought of emotionally investing that much again, only to say goodbye, is not an attractive thought, but that's how it goes, I guess…
Well, as I said, I hope to have some more stories up for you relatively soon, so be checking back!
Tyler
