My Class

I only went to teach at Pascuales one day last week. I had originally planned to go to a town called Milagro, an hour away from Guayaquil, to help a friend teach an English class at his church on Tuesday and Wednesday. But Tuesday morning I woke up feeling pretty terrible, and it just got worse as the hours and days passed. I had a high fever and bad chest cold, and my body and stomach just ached. I do not really know what was wrong, but by Saturday I was feeling much better...well, I was at least tired enough of laying around that I got up and went to a place called La Isla Del Valle with a friend. It is a community like Pascuales, only with way more people and with less money. My friend and I led worship for each class of some of the most beautiful children I have ever seen. Dark, dark skin with huge, dark almond-shaped eyes....they were gorgeous. I would have photos, but I was told it was to dangerous to bring my camera. There is a small group of amazing people who come to this community every Saturday, teach kids who want to come about the bible, feed them, sing with them, and play with them. I was shocked when I came with my friend to find such a random group of people working there; A 40-something year old man, who is the pastor, a couple women well into their 60s, a 19 year-old college student, and a mother of 3 who is probably around 35. It was beautiful. We loved, we prayed, then we took the 45 minute bus ride back home. Back to my topic that I originally began with; today was my first day back in Pascuales. I am still struggling a lot with feeling that I am not doing any good for anyone there. It is a battle every morning, until I walk through the door and am greeted by the youngest class (with whom I spend the most time with) as they shout "Ñaña!" (ñaña is a more loving term used in Ecuador to mean sister...it is based off of one of the original Indian dialects) and I find myself trapped in the center of a cluster of small little Ecuadorian children that do not reach above my waist. After our first lesson I again am reminded of why I come here; As I sit around the kids eating their snack, and as I sit and eat whatever Bartola puts in front of me, one by one the kids break off pieces of their crackers or maybe a piece of a boiled egg. Whatever they have, they share with me. Jayz (pronounced, Ya-eice) is one of the kids that obviously loves me the most. (I think I can say that without sounding completely self-absorbed). I think she feels close to me because one, she really wants love and I really love her, and two we are the only ones in the school with light skin and light hair (she is constantly playing with mine and trying to put her hair pins in it). She had a little piece of meat for her lunch along with her cracker. After a small nibble she hung the piece in front of my face as to offer it to me. I smiled and told her that I thought she should eat it, and as soon as the rest of the kids around heard I did not want it, 8 hands shot out straight under the meat. Well at that point Jayz turned away and enjoyed it herself.

I love my class. Even if they cannot sit still for more that 5 minutes, and every time I am left alone with them they go CRAZY and run around, jumping on the desks, drawing on the walls, and tables and literally destroying everything they can get theirs hands on...but we have an understanding, and I think we love each other, alot. I am still in Ecuador, but I miss them already.