Saturday morning. One
of my favorite quotes from Downton Abbey is a line from the character played by
Maggie Smith, “What’s a weekend?”. Privileged Granny doesn’t know the
difference between a Thursday and a Saturday. Only the working class would
know. I’ve been looking forward to this day in spite of only having a four day
work week. This time last week I was recovering from the plane ride from
Atlanta to Johannesburg and waiting on my Sunday morning flight to Mozambique.
My sweet friends collected me at the airport and took me home to my tidy little
house Veronica had so painstakingly cleaned for me. They watched me unpack my
new wardrobe and American toiletries and necessities. My favorite new additions
to the home are my espresso pot (thank you Lynne) and juicer (thank you Jean).
Ruth had asked for earrings and Ali a Tervis Tumbler. I highly recommend the
espresso pot. It makes the perfect cup of coffee and is less clean up than even
my beloved French press.
The girls took me to
a local restaurant. I ordered the overpriced lobster and savored every bite. I
promised myself to buy from the fish tree and make at least once a month. Jet
lag woke me up at midnight and I finally just got up and unpacked and organized
drawers and put things away. It made Tuesday a real blur. I am not sure how the
word got out but 50 students were waiting outside the school when we arrived.
Praise God I have help.
Andrea came right before I left to cover
for me in my absence. Richard and Adele were here as students of the mission school
last summer and have agreed to come in three month rotations. Adele and Andrea
are organized. Me, not so much. They had prepared registration forms and
placement tests! We put students into groups and I am teaching the beginner
group. I cannot tell you how incredibly amazing it is to have help! I often
left the classroom completely utterly drained and exhausted. But now, with
other people there to lighten the load, I can enjoy my much smaller little
group, get to know them by name and not feel like I have been standing on my
head for hours.
The scooter didn’t
start but I expected that. One of my students, Sebastian took it to the
mechanic for me where I paid $4 to have it repaired. It broke down before I got
to school, less than a mile away. This time I handed it over to Henrique who
repaired it for me, but I am afraid to take her very far as she is so so so
unfaithful and not trustworthy.
The first 48 hours
here had me reeling. It is such a tough transition between these two worlds.
The world I know and love is so easy. I cherished every moment, every shower,
every meal. Nothing was wasted on me. And suddenly I am thrust into a world
that could not be more different. Hot. Left side of the road. Black faces.
White girl. Hot. Dirt. Lizards. Roaches. Mosquitoes. Rats. Little bamboo
market. Hot. I boarding the plane thinking, “I’m not ready for this”. I hated
leaving my daddy’s hug and the endless choices of Atlanta restaurants not far
outside Hartsfield Jackson’s International Terminal. But as I lay on my little
foam mattress under my net writing this I can’t help but know, “I was made for
this”.
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| Caught a ride to the beach with Ruth and the Babies |
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