All in a day's work

Today was a "día de colores" as they call it here. That is a day where the kids can wear clothes other than their school uniform. We wanted to take pictures. Many came quite dressed up. Normally the kids here in all schools wear uniforms.

We also welcomed a new student. He's 8 years old and has never attended school. He doesn't know any Sign, or even how to count to five on his fingers. His mom said she tried to sign him up before, but the (oral) school wouldn't take him without a hearing aid, and she couldn't afford one.

A couple of the boys were fighting today during the last hour and a half of school, and every time I looked away, they would go at it again. At the end of the day, almost walking out the door, one popped the other in the nose pretty hard, and gave him a nosebleed.

Lately I'm constantly saying, "Use your hands to Sign, not to fight!" I want them to learn to resolve problems more with discussion and less with fists. These kids come from rough neighborhoods, so they are not easily convinced.

I walked R. home so I could talk with his parents. .Wow, quite a walk! It was about 35 minutes at a fast pace. I couldn't have found my way back without help, because there were so many twists and turns on the way.

The unpainted cement block houses in the area, many with zinc roofs, are separated only by narrow walkways. There are no roads. Everything that comes in must either be handcarried, or come in on a bike or motorcycle.

These are houses that no architect has planned. Instead, they are put up, little by little, as the family can afford the block. Most begin with a wooden one room shack, and slowly replace it with block, then begin to expand and add on rooms. Eventually, they replace the zinc roof with cement, if they can, allowing them to build a second floor, perhaps for another relative to live in.

Pumps were on, pumping water to fill up containers for later in the day when water and electricity would be off. Laundry hung everywhere. There was a spider's web of electric wires connecting all the houses, providing the intermittant electricity which was doubtless stolen. (Note: approximately 50% of the electricity used in this country is stolen.) A baby cried. A barefoot little boy filled a plastic bag with water and threw it against a house. People looked at me with curious eyes; they weren't used to seeing an American this far off the beaten path.

As the boy arrived home, he found the door and gate padlocked. No problem. He was obviously used to this. He called for his brother, but the brother didn't come, so over the 8 foot tall metal door he went.

The mom didn't arrive at the promised six o'clock that her other son indicated. Because this little barrio is undoubtedly a dangerous place, I had to get out before dark. I left word with the brother to have his mom call me. Sadly, R. is suspended for the time being, pending a meeting with his parents.