a conversation

I am terribly overdue for an update. My excuses are the same. School is running along and each day brings new students, new challenges, new visitors, and new curriculum. Henrique continues to come and brings friends. One called PeeWee. They come and love the dancing part but sit attentively through the English lesson. Today I used a very basic primary book that taught on consonants and vowels and I felt sorry for these poor teenage boys pouring over a picture book with Apples and Blocks but they didn't seem to mind one bit. I am not sure they had ever even seen a kite before, they didn't seem to know what it was called in Portuguese. I am daily astounded by what they know and what they don't know. Henrique wants to be a doctor. He is 16 and in the 9th grade. I gave him a fairly simple math problem to do, basic subtraction of four digit numbers and he could not do it. I know he has the capacity to do it, I just don't think he has been taught. So working with students like this and learning what they know and what they don't starts to change everything for me and my purpose, my intent and my goals.
This week an amazing missionary is leaving after serving here for 7 years. She has worked closely with a group of boys who live on our base and they are known as "Pam's boys". She has taught them to read and write and how to plant and tend a garden and a little about cooking and cleaning and all sorts. She has discipled them and taught them about self-respect and the life of Jesus. I know a few of her boys and they stand out. They walk with dignity and self-assurance and integrity. She has left them with a great gift and I pray that I can do the same. Today Henrique wanted to talk to me after class to tell me that he had given blood at school. He lives in the village and has no parents. His father died Christmas Day. I know this because his brother works with Iris and we all knew of Manuel's father's death. We had talked about him becoming a doctor and I told him blood made me queasy. He was proud of himself. I was proud of him too. We then talked about blood type and he told me he is O+. He has no one. He has five brothers. But no mama to say, "Good job". And here I am teaching the kid very basic English. It feels like a drop in the bucket. He knows that "A" makes an "aa sound" like in "Apple", but he didn't eat breakfast this morning because he didn't have money for bread. We dance in class and sweat up a storm but the odds of Henrique actually becoming a doctor are about the same as my becoming fluent in Makua or being able to follow him and his friends in their Mozambican dance (which I think was influenced strongly by Michael Jackson, I recognize some moves). I wish you could see these boys. They are no different than any other 16 year olds. They wear skinny jeans and take pride in their clothes and the way they dress. They are influenced by what they see on television and the media and Western culture. Yet some boys are clueless, dressed in rags and barefooted. Each little plastic chair in the classroom holds such a uniquely different person who lives a life I could never comprehend.
I think a lot about nature vs. nurture and what makes them what we are. We all have our demons and the junk we were born fighting against. These kids get dealt a really raw hand. I have talked about this before, how the Portuguese left the Mozambicans with nothing. Everywhere I look I see extreme poverty and very poor education.  As the white girl I am often looked at as a source of money and not a friend. The mechanic who fixed my scooter still harasses me and calls out to me every time he sees me and asks me where I am going and if he can come with me and wants me to buy him food. He is always drunk and he scares me. It is not always a pretty picture. I often wonder if I will ever just be a friend and can ever just fit in here and work alongside nationals and not be seen as so very different. There is no way I can put myself in their shoes and there is no way I won't always be different. It is not easy. So I live here and I try to blend and I try to help and I am trying to educate and of course, love. And that one is not so easy either. I have to love the drunk mechanic and love the lady who stole from me and love the kids that always skip class and love the guy who almost ran me over on the scooter. I am learning a lot about love. It really is patient and kind and all those things the Bible says it is. And only because I am loved and I receive love and I know love can I even begin to go through the motions of pouring it out. It keeps me seeking Him in all things.
And then there are the faces that are so easy to love. It is an honor to do what I do and that I get to live in a place where I just get to watch these young kids grow and play and they scream out my name like I am a celebrity. And they are young and innocent and a little clueless. I pray for hope because I need it myself and they need it too. And this town needs it. We need infrastructure and an economy and goods and resources. These kids need to learn skills and trades. We need clean water and health care and a good education system. We need a government here that is just. And I sing the alphabet song and go over the verb "to be" in the simple present one more time.