Elidio

Every time I sit down to write a blog post, I feel like I’m either gushing with good news or I’m beside myself.  And that doesn’t really surprise me.   High highs, low lows.

After a nice weekend on Mozambique Island (doing really horrible things … like sailing, laying on beautiful beachs, drinking beers while wading in the Indian Ocean and eating as much shrimp and calamari as I could get my hands on… high highs),  I came back to Cateme on Monday afternoon.  Our final English exam was scheduled for Tuesday morning, so I went to bed early in preparation for chaos and out of pure travel exhaustion.  Students here are expecting to contribute a few metecais (the local currency) to have their tests copied… So on Tuesday morning,  I was busting down the outdoor corridor to each classroom collecting money.  My first stop was 8A. They’re my littlest kiddos – and while they can absolutely be the most frustrating, they are also my favorite class.  We have good chemistry, they seem to be improving, and we usually have a good time during our twice a week English class (once, in that class, I was writing on the chalkboard and felt a sneeze coming… it didn’t come very quickly though and I found myself frozen like a statue in front of all 45 of them for a solid 5 seconds.  Long enough to be considered an awkward pause. Finally, I the sneeze hit me. Hard. And it caused me to bend completely over at the waist whipping my ponytail down and over my head, and then back again when I popped back up. I instinctively let out a little laugh at myself which was followed by 45 amused giggles…it was a snowball laughter.  And I’ve loved them ever since).

 Anyways,  I stopped there first.  Three of the boys were standing outside, looking awkward (not unusual, they’re 8^th graders, they excel at awkwardness).  One of them kind of grabbed my arm and just blurted out “Teacher, Elidio died.”  (He was the fourth member of their little bike-riding rat pack, and one of the sweetest, hardest working, kids I’ve encountered. Ever.) I thought I had misheard him and made him repeat it about three times before I started asking real questions. When?  (Last night). Was he in an accident?! (No, he was in the health center).  Had he been sick for a long time?? (No, just three days).  Does the school know yet? (No, that’s why we’re telling you). 

Ok, I thought, as we all stood there looking at each other… first thing: tell the school director. I took the boys to the office, and we explained what had happened.  The director sent them back to their classroom to continue with finals.  Death is strange here.  It happens, and you just have to keep going. No one is going to provide counseling, or suggest you take the day off.  There won’t be a loving song, or a paper chain made in memory of the person.  Even if you’re 13 and you’re best friend just died. You go back, sit in your desk, and take that chemistry exam you paid to have copied.   

Oddly enough, I had been scheduled to proctor that classes exams for the day.  Calling the kids by number, one at a time to pick up their tests was heart wrenching… I skipped from 16 to 18 without missing a beat – number 17 had been crossed off the list.  They started the exam, and I stood in the back of the room (thebest place to catch cheaters), purposefully averting my eyes from the empty desk in the middle of the room.  I’d never seen it like that before – Elidio never missed a single English class. He worked hard. He went from being the sweet kid who was friends with the little troublemakers – to the kid who improved so much that I could always count on him to answer questions in class. He was one I was rooting for.  Our school lost a good one… It happens, and life here will go on. And I’ll mark that day down as a low low.