Monday, our First Day

9:57, Jan. 25, 2010, Monday,

“Blessed are the flexible, for they will not be bent out of shape.” “Semper Gumby.” – These are two of Miss Francis’s favorite sayings. Miss Francis, co-founder of Holy Cross Anglican Primary School, has shown us a world completely different than ours, but always has the right words to tie us to it spiritually, so closely.

Saturday night was hard. Once the group loaded onto the bus, we went down to the coast to board a ferry. I got my first Belizean money ($2 USD = $4 Belize) which, believe it or not (sometimes we/they combine it) was confusing and got into the boat. I had pictured a slow, calm ride—it was instead like a giant speedboat. The nose was high in the air and the butt low in the crashing whitewater. [At one point, Walt got out but the stop was Caye Caulker, not Ambergris Caye, and a ferryman had to call us back in. I got teased!] It was fun for about an hour, but then my headache grew and I started to feel nauseous. By the time the 90-minute ride was over, I was hurting so bad. We were so slow getting to The Tides that I fell right asleep after medicine and missed the group dinner.

In the morning though, I felt 100% better. I slept VERY well, even though the mattresses are thin and hard and the pillow fat and hard. I walked around outside and took some pictures, showered, and joined the group for breakfast on the pier. We got coffee and sat at a long table, and Miss Francis talked while the meal was set for us. We learned about her past and how she came to be in Belize as the co-founder, with her husband Vernon, of a school.

They had lived in Williamsburg, VA before being sent on missions by the Episcopal Church. They were working with churches in Belize City and relaxing in San Pedro [on Ambergris Caye] on occasion when they noticed many school-age children on the streets and beaches, and not in school. [This led to their discovery of San Mateo, and when they offered to help the community, they asked for a school over land development.] Once they decided to build a school, they faced and are still facing resistance from the government. The government had handed out free plots of swampland to the poor to curry votes—and lost the vote. The poor laborers there, there to build the wealthy resorts, were now owners of land without sanitation, water, or electricity that had to be quickly developed [in two years, or they lose the land]. They have been living in wet, utter poverty among puddles and garbage since. The children couldn’t go to expensive parochial schools—until Holy Cross came right to San Mateo with education, medical, and food.

We walked to the school after the talk. We went down the beach and over a bridge to get there in 10 minutes. That bridge separates the resort/tourist area (which has its pockets of ruin) from the poverty and school. Despite the dirt, the kids and their white and grey uniforms looked so clean, and happy.

There was a tour with Principal Grace. We went into each classroom of [mostly] brown and black smiling faces. Most look Mexican from Mayan descent, or are black descendants of slaves [slavery goes back to when Belize was the British Honduras, and slaves and then freedmen were used to cut mahogany in the timber industry]. There was one blonde white girl, and some Asians, but many looked of mixed heritage. One little boy really smiled at me and when Grace said some of us may be visiting their classroom again, he thrust his finger out and said “I want she!” For the next few classes, Grace asked who they wanted to see and everyone pointed to me! It was cute, but I was ready to work.

First, I tutored two boys, Darwhyn and Kevin. They were so adorable—but I had to tutor them in math, which is unthinkable. I think I did pretty good, though. They were learning addition, and although they were the same age, Kevin could do the math in his head but Darwhyn was having a hard time. I did what I could—I drew chickens and cows, and drew dice with little dots [to help him visualize and not rely on his fingers]. It was still hard for him, especially with Kevin finishing quickly and wanting attention.

After that experience, we walked about and I wandered into the cafeteria [where kids were gathering for lunch]. A little Mayan-looking girl, skinny with a black braid and dark skin, was sitting on the bench facing outward, crying into a Spongebob washcloth. I sat with her with my arm around her, but she wouldn’t talk. [A teacher then told me that some girls had been calling her names.] Soon, she left for class.

We broke for salad, spaghetti, and Tang and bread.

Lunch was followed by more tutoring. I was so surprised when the little girl who had been crying came around the corner with the group. I grabbed her to teach right away. I had her for reading and writing, and she wrote her beautiful name: Meredith Bernice Escalante. After a while, she asked me if I was the one who sat with her in the kitchen, and I said yes. We read a story together and I had her write some sentences. I drew a unicorn, and asked her the parts of the horse and she wrote them down. Then, I asked her favorite animals and I drew them and she named them: Jada the Starfish, Jose the Jellyfish, and Rose the Shark. She wrote a few sentences about them. I was happy I’d gotten her to write a little story.

I also learned more about her. She moved to San Mateo from Orange Walk, Belize, and her mom has 6 children. Her dad died when he was hit by a bus driven by a man on his cell phone. Sometimes, when she’s sad, she looks at his photo. She has another dad, the father of one of her sisters, but he is bad. When the bills come, she says, he says he has no money and her mom has to send some to him [so I guess they live apart]. I hope her sister is treated okay.

Talking about that photo of her dad made me want to show her the card I have of my gramma. I shared it with her and read the poem to her. She asked to see it again 4 or so more times as we sat together. One time, she considered my gramma’s picture and said, “I’ve seen that lady in Belize City.” I showed her the year of gramma’s death, 2008, but she said again that she’d seen her. I took it as sort of a sign, and was looking off in thought when Meredith put her hand right over my heart; just laid it on my chest. She told me, “Your gramma, she is up in Heaven, but she will always be with you in your heart.” I wonder now if her mom told her that about her dad, and she decided to share it with me. Then, however, all I could do was hug her close and thank her. That was the best part of this trip so far.

The last part of our day was a walk through San Mateo. My pictures tell its tale better than I ever could. Just behind the school, there it is, San Pedro’s poorest community, shunned by the government and stewing in its immovable waste. Very sad. Just a cluster of shacks—most on stilts—in mud, swamp, and trash, but with all the requisite signs of everyday family life: a man painting a porch rail, a girl with a baby, kids on bicycles, and everywhere (as always) skinny, bony, unfriendly dogs [Terry remarked later that the scars most children have come from encounters with dogs]. I love those dogs—I see Baker’s eyes in all of their wild faces [some dogs were actually friendly].

We walked home deep in thought after seeing San Mateo. Those kids.

Back at The Tides, I had two Belikins (a Belizean beer) and swam a bit and then we had devotional time led by Roger with Bible readings and discussion. We went into San Pedro on foot to eat at Warumba’s, where I shared a shrimp burrito with Walt, and to D. and E. Ice Cream, where I got a mint chip cone. Now, I am back at the room, ready to sleep and see what tomorrow brings. I hope it’s Meredith!