September 19, 2009
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a day
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7:15am
I take the short cut to church, up the hill that has steps cut out of it. Steps that wash away every time it rains. I walk by people’s houses and hear them singing. Funny, women cleaning always seem to have the same voice. I get to the cobble stone street that runs by the cemetery and turn right. The metal gate is half open as I make a right into the church “parking lot”—the dirt/grassy area that serves as our playground. I greet everyone with a “good morning” and their names. I can remember almost everyone’s names now. Most of them say good morning back to me, some with a proud look, some with a mumble.
They come in and sit down at the tables. Our long table is a board balanced on two A frames, and two little wooden tables with matching kiddy chairs. If there are more kids, we get the plastic chairs from the church, which is in the building next door. We meet in a small converted house with a front porch, main room, two side rooms (the pastors office and the nursery room, which stays locked up), then a small transition room with our storage cabinates (yes, OUR…they made two shelves just for me), and then the kitchen, food storage room, and musical instruments storage room. And two bathrooms. Out the back kichen door there is always a cool breeze and the big drop off—we are on top of a hill.
Before snack/breakfast, Patricia says “1, 2, 3, absolute silence.” Which, to my amazement, normally works rather well. She shares something simple…one day was about being thankful. Another was about finding that place in our hearts made just for God. Mostly, it is something like “God loves you. He sees what you need. He has provide this food for you.” And then she prays a simple prayer we repeat, thanking God and so on. There is simple, basic food, but healthier than they normally have at home, if they have any at home. When I bring their plates or fill up their cups with water, I ask “what do you say when you receive something?” and most everyone remembers “Thank you” in English. And they look around smartly after they say it, checking to see if anyone noticed.
After we eat, the boys who have soccer class walk to town to the soccer field. Sometimes there is music or dance class, but not that often. The government pays the teachers $250USD a month, but that doesn’t include any curriculum or resources for the class. Most days the art teacher comes, and the kids divide into small groups, one with the art teacher: painting or croshay or some other fun project…which he buys all of (normally including candy, which is very endearing). Another group is with Patricia and Cacau, learning about health and family (right now they are doing the food pyramid), and I have a group that goes next door to the church and learns English.
Patricia and Cacau each have a day where they take a group and have a Bible study, and I have part of a Bible lesson each day.
In my group, we work on flashcards (colors and numbers right now) then look at some books in English, then sing a simple song I am teaching them. Sort of. If anyone can then remember a certain amount of vocabulary words, they get a sucker. Bribery works in any language. Then I have these pictures of the life of Jesus, and we talk about one each day. So far it is mostly question and answer. We talked about what Jesus taught, who was listening to him, and why the Pharassies didn’t like him. Today we talked about how the sick man couldn’t do anything for himself—but he had four friends who wanted to take him to Jesus…but he had a problem—they couldn’t get into where Jesus was. We also have a problem—we can’t get into where Jesus is in heaven—because of sin. Heaven is perfect, and for perfect people. How can we get in? We will do the next page tomorrow. Then we play a game or I have a worksheet paper for the kids to color/fill in.
By this time everyone is cheio de aprendendo, so we have time playing, where the kids will jump rope or play marbles or dodgeball. Often we will sit under the tree and talk and watch the others play. I use this time to work on my books. I am putting together a book with a page for each child. I take and put their picture in the corner, and if they can write, they sign the middle of the page. Slowly, I am filling the pages in with information. What is your favorite color? Favorite animal? Favorite food? How old are you? When is your birthday? How many brothers and sisters do you have?
I have learned a lot. Most of the kids like dogs. One boy was original and said an eagle. But they are not used to questions like these. they normally have to stop and think. they ask for suggestions. The food question was the most interesting. The most popular food chosen was lasagna, a normal dish in Brasil. What I didn’t know is that many of the kids have never had lasagna. It was just something they said because they’d HEARD it was good. Only a few named desserts like cake or chocolate as their favorite food—most said a main dish or fruit. A couple said cuzcuz, which is sorta like cornbread, and something we eat often at Living Stones, and one girl, after I asked her if she could pick any food in the world…simply said “Rice.” Rice doesn’t seem like the most exciting food to me…but it was what this girl knew. Rice.
I bandage up a few cuts and bruses daily, now that the kids understand and have gotten used to the idea of band aids. Anderson came this morning with horrible blisters and sores up his belly. I asked him what happened, and he said his brother had burned him. I asked him why and he looked up at me, all of six years old, and said “Because he wanted to.” Most of the burns had already blistered over, but I carefully put band aids on the open parts. Leandro wanted a band aid for his leg, which had already scabbed over, but was a couple inch long wound. I told him my band aids were not big enough.
By this time it is time for lunch (10:30am) and we do the same thing as breakfast and then dismiss for the kids to go home, change their clothes, and go to school.
The same thing happens in the afternoon—lunch at 1:00pm, and then snack at 4:00pm. But there are a lot more kids in the afternoon—a lot more older boys and a lot more little kids. And the number is growing…we had 9 new kids come this week. The other six PETI programs are closed, and the kids have no where to go. Or the kids bring their friends, who are not signed up for the welfare program, but have needs just the same. The church doors are never closed. When one of the kids says “but they are not from PETI” Patricia says “They are the same in our hearts.” And they come in and stay.
