thoughts for the day

Today in Chichigua this morning I had my eye on a little boy named Felipe, he is about eight. We had a quiz on chapters 11-15 of James y el melocotón gigante. I had 5 questions written on the board. Most kids can’t write well, so the majority of them just wrote down the answers. Felipe wrote both the questions and answers out. The last 10 minutes of class while the kids were reading, Felipe was still sitting there writing out the words that I had written. Sometimes he can be a handful, shaking his little booty (no joke) as if music were playing in our little classroom, or picking fights with the other boys in class. Not today.

Felipe is also my favorite to watch when passing out food at the end of class. Regardless of his behavior that day, when I say to be quiet he sits there as still as he possibly can eying all the food that he is about to receive. When I say his name to come up, in victory he shows a million dollar smile. Holding out his hand his receives a vitamin, a hard boiled egg, a piece of bread, and a banana, his cup is then filled with milk. He doesn’t bother going outside back to his house, but finds a bench in the room, sits down and prepares his lunch. He carefully peals away the eggshell and splits the egg in pieces. Tearing his bread open, he places the egg inside to make a sandwich, looks at it in all its glory and has the entire thing downed in about three bites. He does this every class, and every class I watch him.

After class is over is see Felipe’s sister Yaina sitting on the ground. She is nine years old and held to the necessity of a wheelchair. Yaina has cerebral palsy. Hence, I think it is weird that I see her on the ground with her wheelchair on the ledge behind her. I walk over and pick her up, setting her in my lap as I sit down. The area spells abnormally strong of urine, and I realize, as she is in my lap, that Yaina’s dress is completely soaked. Still, I hold her in my arms and talk to her. I ask Cristina to bring over an egg from what we have leftover, peel it, and give it to Yaina and watch her eat it. With a big smile full of egg pieces, I put her up back in her chair and say goodbye. I notice that my pants are wet and when I get in the car, realize that it was in fact urine.

On the way to Pancho Mateo from Chichigua for my afternoon class, Cristina and I drive through Montellano. We see a large truck with Guardia (DR military) passing out bags of food to all the people nearby. They don’t even have to leave the truck. Men, women, and children alike have their arms in the air reaching for the next bag to be tossed out. Cristina tells me that the current President is passing out food in hopes of being reelected for another term. Katy told me about this sort of thing once before. (Katy is a parent that lives in Pancho Mateo). She says that this happens often in Pancho Mateo. People come in who are running for some sort of office to the poor areas and promise that they will bring water into the villages. It is all talk though, I do not know when these candidates said these things, but Pancho Mateo still does not have any sort of running water. We drive on by, watching the excitement of the women with bags in hand as we pass.