So, as I told a good friend of mine, I felt as if every corner I turned yesterday, I was struck in the testacles. However, the straightaways provided some good old Ecuadorian tales. Here are two of the highlights from yesterday. After thinking about them for sometime, I think yesterday was really a great day.
First, on the Metrobus (don`t know which route, too many to remember), I noticed a little kid, about 8, who was with his mama. He was sitting in the window seat and she in the aisle. I noticed him looking out the window, with more interest and intrigue than the entire bus combined. He still seemed so excited about what was going on, and the possibliities that the streets held for his peepers. It was really a wonderful thing to see. One of those times, as a teacher, when you realize that that`s your job: to preserve the feeling of inquiry and interest that that scruffy little nincompoop was demonstrating.
At one point, he saw something worthy of pointing out, and turned to his mama to share what he`d discovered. As tenderly as I`ve ever seen before, in a way he had probably done a thousand times, he noticed his mama with her eyes closed, and slowly drew his hand back so as not to disturb her. The way he did it was almost angelic, as you could tell how much he cared for his mother. At the same time, there was a sense of disappointment, for this thing he noticed outside of the window, to him, was of terrible importance. I was thinking that if I ever become a parent, or even as a teacher, I don`t ever want to miss moments such as this.
The second one is a little bit lighter.
I´m walking along the wall of the massive Centro Cultural Metropolitano, headed to the front door to check out the free exhibit on display. Having already seen a nice photo exhibit and a Marc Chagall exhibit based on the Odyssey, I had hopes of at least something quite different. I`m maybe not the biggest Chagall fan, but that doesn`t matter now, does it?
As I`m walking along, I see a puppy dog. In all likelihood, the rusty bugger is a street dog, whose general interests range from yesterday`s meat scrappings to that other dog´s ass...maybe twice. It doesn`t take long to realize that said pup is really focused on something which appears to be just inside the side door of the Centro. I`m thinking that a guard has bought himself a lunch, perhaps rice and a meat (national meal). Perhaps there is a child in the door, taunting the pupperoni with pepperoni pizza. Possibly a gutter punk is waving his mangy dreadlocks around to keep the dog so attentive.
As I arrive, I`m utterly surprised at what I discover. The pup is neither pining for pollo, praying for pizza, or deadlocked on dreadlock. The pup stands and peers into the windows of the library, simply watching people read. The pup just wants to know how to read. Or maybe he knows, and he simply needs to replace his library card, which might have been stolen. I felt much like the pup today, just needing a replacement card that would get me what I needed. Only what I was standing at attention for was exactly what interested the pup none, which was a nice plate of rice and beans, maybe with a little salad on the side.
As soon as I returned home to the Hostal Residencial Sucre, I did that pup right in the only way I knew how. I sank my teeth into a book for an entire evening, realizing all that I still had available to me.