Day 7-Arrival

August, 2011 § Leave a comment

Bictelia and I covered a lot of ground in those next two days at school. For someone who doesn’t like to be very curious, I’m proud to say I got all of my questions answered in my time there… and then some.

I think it helped Bictelia, too, to have someone asking those questions. I think it made her feel less like I was giving her a handout and more like she was making a decision for her school that could benefit it.

We also came up with a list of phrases she could use in the meantime. Things like:
“Don’t eat in class.” and
“That doesn’t please God.” and

I kept doing some tutoring and sat in on Delmy’s class. During recess, I let a sixth grader beat me at a game of one-on-one but it doesn’t really count because he was taller than me.

My last night in Rio Esteban was Tuesday night. After we got back from school and ate lunch, I took some pictures of Delmy’s room [my future half-room] and laid in the hammock watching Deyni play mini-soccer with some of the boys.

I tried to suck in the aroma of that moment and enclose it in my brain to be released in February when I’m saying my good byes. There was a strong breeze and palm trees were swaying. I saw a hummingbird fly over to a hibiscus flower and take a sip. The boys were shouting in Spanish, kicking up dust with their bare feet, and celebrating mini-victories in their mini-soccer game.

Maybe I’m lustful for wanting to remember Honduras for these things. Maybe I should let the Lord’s call on my life be enough. My flesh is weak. I believe, help my unbelief.

That night at church was the culto de adoración [adoration service]. It’s mostly just worship and Brayan gave a brief message. I remember it being good, I just wish I could remember what it was about.

After church, Delmy and I went to her friend [and fellow teacher], Deslinn’s, house so I could check out the internet speed on the Tigo modem.

Deslinn is very sweet and extremely bubbly and scattered. She served us dinner and after I had finished on Facebook (it only took me about three minutes to get sick of it) she started chatting with an American girl who had been teaching at the bilingual school before. She would say something to us, look at the computer, crack up, say the girl’s name a million times, and then say she’s getting off.

Delmy and I were falling asleep. I guess Deslinn could tell because she eventually released us. Delmy and I walked home in the pitch black and quiet streets of Rio Esteban arm-in-arm and she told me she didn’t want me to leave. I said halfheartedly that I don’t want to leave either.

My problem is that I never want to leave anywhere. There’s just always somewhere I want to arrive. 


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