Part II

9:00 am
More rain

I had to cut short my visit to Westside because some non-English speaking children and their parents had showed up at Northside and I was needed to help them enroll. When I arrived I found Ilma, Jorge, and Oscar Lopez and their parents in the school office. As soon as they heard my greetings to them in Spanish all five faces softened and big smiles filled the entire room. There was a lot of paper work to go over and forms to fill out and be signed, questions to be asked and answers to be given. It seemed to take an unusually long amount of time. The parents left and the three students and I set off the find their classes. First, Jorge went to the second grade, next Oscar to the third, and then Ilma to the sixth. At Ilma’s class the students were taking a test. So, Ilma and I stood in the hall while the class finished and talked.

She told me about Guatemala, and how she would go to the main store in the next village and watch CNN Internacional on a satellite the store keeper had rigged up. She could discuss world events extremely well. I asked her if she knew any English and she slowly and perfectly counted to ten. I told her I would try and get back before school ended and we would talk some more.

10:30 am
Raining harder

I drove to my third school that morning and saw two police cars. The principal, Mr. Rivers and some other people I didn’t know were standing on the embankment that overlooked a drainage ditch. There in the culvert that went under the road was my student, Pedro. Apparently, Pedro has tried to run away from school and some people who lived close to the school had called the police. Mr. Rivers asked me if I could get Pedro back into the building. I knew that Pedro distrusted authority and that this was going to be an awkward situation. I told the principal that I thought everyone should leave, including the police and their cars. Their presence was only making matters worse.

The look on his face told me that he questioned my judgment on this matter: but, not having any answers of his own, he agreed to have the police cars go in front of the
building out of sight, but still ready.

I walked in the ditch and down to the end, “Well, hey what’s new?” I asked him in my best colloquial Spanish, like I just happened to run into him there. I stepped inside the giant culvert to get out of the rain. Pedro was looking down and not talking. I knew he would talk when he was ready.

After a long silence filled with thunder and spattering rain, Pedro pleaded his case. “I had to get out of there. In Mexico, my school was outside. I could see birds and feel the sun.
The teachers don’t like me because I don’t speak English.”

After talking some more and explaining that running away was not the answer. I knew there would have to be some sort of win-win situation for both Pedro and Mr. Rivers- for Pedro because he didn’t need a rebel image and for Mr. Rivers because after all, the police were at his school. Pedro spent the rest of the day in school detention. The police left. Mr. Rivers was satisfied.

I went to my next school

to be continued......