Notes 11 March 2015

by Elizabeth Foot

                I will apologize in advance, before I take you all back to Monday, March 9, but I promise I will make it to the 11^th.

                March 9^th, around 10 am. I am so excited, I am about to go teach English. The group is my mom, Carol Hokana, our two translators Francois and Magnum, and me. We walk over to L’Ecole St. Croix avec Pere Kerwin. We are greeted by both principals, M. Manuel of the Lower School (grades K-6) and M. Emmanuel (grades 7-13) and I thought, “I’m already confused. Do they have the same name or am I going crazy? I have no idea what I’m getting myself into.” But luckily, I was able to grin and pretend like I knew what was going on. After introductions, the adults went with M.Emmanuel and I was left with M. Manuel……and no translator.

                When Father Kerwin told the principals, “Oh Elizabeth speaks French and understands it well. She shouldn’t need a translator!” I knew I was in trouble. As mentioned in my blog about church, my French skills border decent, but as much as I like to think I’m not awful, even I knew I was way in over my head. Teach English to four classes in a foreign language? By myself? Without a translator? I didn’t think so.

                Therefore it was safe to say, the walk to the furthest class (less than the length of a football field), my heart was pounding and I wondered what the chances of me running up to my mom and demanding a translator. However, I knew how futile it would be since M. Manuel is about 6 feet tall and could out stride me in about two seconds. So be it, I thought, it’s only two hours until I have to leave for lunch; it can’t be that bad.

                And it wasn’t. It was the complete opposite. The kids I met with and attempted to teach were some of the cutest, energetic, and most amusing children I’ve ever met. Not only did they listen to me as I attempted to talk to them in French about English, but they participated in the lessons I spontaneously made up. The joy that I had heard on that initial walk, and the boisterous noise that had made me want to turn invisible, ended up being the joy and noise that drew me back the next day with such excitement. The girls wore blue shirts, skirts, and bows in perfectly braided hair. Each of their smiles could go for millions of dollars and will probably cause millions of heartbreaks. The boys as well had teeth as white as the snow you all see when you look out your window. They wore blue shirts as well but grey pants instead of skirts. Some of the uniforms fit well, others hung loose or looked three sizes too small. They loved hearing me struggle with French but listened attentively while I spoke in French. They had workbooks for English and we would read through conversations and countries, always them repeating after me.  I guess the teachers had also enjoyed me, and that I hadn’t messed up too royally, because I was specifically asked back the following morning at 8 am.

                March 10. I returned a celebrity. It was now my mom, Carol Hokana, our new translator Victor, and me tackling the now five classes than M. Manuel wanted me to teach. We brought Dr. Seuss Cards with letters of the alphabet, numbers up to 20, and counting books (all in English). It was the highlight of my day when I walked into the new classroom, and the kids fell silent. Then I would make eye-contact with them and smile---but it was their smiles that lit up the otherwise dim room. “Bonjour Elizabeth! Comment-allez vous?” They chorused together. (Hello Elizabeth! How are you doing?”).

                “Je suis tres bien merci! Et vous?” I would respond, and then class would begin. The engagement and excitement to just be with us was tangible; the kindergartners wouldn’t let go of my arms. Now that we had actual exercises and I was not just reading off conversations, it was as much fun for us as the kids. We left exhausted but empowered; we were making a difference in these children’s’ lives.

                March 11. I was facing today with a bittersweet mindset because it is our last day with these kids, but I was still looking forward to spending the day with them. It went the same as yesterday, but the kids were even more excited to see us, which I’m not going to lie, made it a little more difficult to talk and teach them. But so it was, and after teaching all five of the classes, we left. We also gave the teachers the Dr. Seuss Cards, coloring books, papers, markers, and watercolors. One of the teachers asked me if I was returning the following day and I had to tell her, no I wasn’t. She seemed very disappointed, either because it meant she wouldn’t have an hour break or because she liked me. I don’t know, but I was flattered nonetheless. M. Manuel also extended his thanks to us and said he wanted us to stay longer next year (which really means I’ll have to learn how to lead a class).

                 So. My closing thoughts are that this experience has really made me appreciate my education back home and the difference I am able to make. Although I don’t know what I’ll be doing later in life, in the short term I do know that I will always remember these children and I will think of them tomorrow morning as I head off to the medical clinic, in scrubs and sneakers instead of dresses and TOMs, and whenever I see children who have the same traits as them: excitement and joy towards education and openness to making new friends.

P.S. If anyone was wondering, no I do not regret my decision to stay with M. Manuel and not try to make a break for it.