Every night is a summer night.
That does not necessarily mean that every night feels like a summer night. During the week, I am mostly consumed by school life. Lesson planning, dealing with different situations¬, frustrating as well as heart melting ones, just giving all my energy to my kids and getting a good portion of energy thrown at me by them.
We are kept busy during the week. But then are those moments, often in the evening on the weekends, where I suddenly realize where I am again and that I am damn happy to be here. Those moments include feeling the warm summer breeze, breathing in the lively life of the community. Those include walking on an uneven path, surrounded by dogs and chicken chasing each other. Those include feeling the warmth and hospitality of the family while tutoring. Those include sitting on the porch watching local kids run around, and loud reggaeton being played in good company. Or those include enjoying the days off with the other volunteers or newly met people. In those moments, I am purely happy to be here. In this warm community, in a place called Cofradía. A place that, I imagine, no tourist has ever set foot in. I experience real Honduran life, with its drawbacks and without any glitter or touristy¬-polished setup. I am glad I ended up here because it is real.
I also have lots of time to think about myself. Not in a pressure-¬like way. In a completely enjoyable way. This is possible because I am taking a break from my life at home. As cheesy as it sounds, I feel more individually free here. For the first time in my life I don’t live in a big city and I didn’t think I would enjoy it that much. Life is slower, less stressful. I do have way more responsibility than I had at home¬- taking care of 22 kids isn’t exactly easy. But being responsible for little human beings is just more fun and makes more sense than the oppressing responsibility for myself I felt at home. The stress of too many options of what to do on a Friday night or trying to get a handle on all the events you committed going to is non-existent here.
-Saskia, 6th grade teacher