Dia del Maestro - Ecuador Style

April 6^th - 13^th

     There is little that is settled about our lives here in Ecuador right now, though it has to be said that part of the intent of coming here was to shake things up a bit. We received difficult news from Arizona last week. Nan’s Dad Lou and his wife Bernadine are staying there for a winter retreat, but Bernadine has had to go into the intensive care unit with serious heart problems. At the time of writing, she is improving, but still in the ICU. Our thoughts are obviously with the two of them and the rest of the family. 

     Also, we have just heard the news of the bombings in Boston.  Bad things happen everyday around the World, but it is somehow harder to believe when they happen closer to home. With a deep sense of inadequacy under the circumstances, our thoughts are with the families and friends of those who were killed and hurt in such a monstrous way. (Update:  Now, Friday morning, a few days later it feels very surreal to be sitting on a Galapagos beach early in the morning – sun rising – knowing that other people are in such a dangerous situation as the suspects are being hunted down.)  

     We returned to Otavalo from the rainforest a little over a week ago.  My sister Susie had little time to adjust.  After a last minute shopping trip to the market here, and a final lunch in one of our favorite Otavalo restaurants, she ventured back down to Quito airport and her long trip back to the U.K.  The rest of us stayed low key for a day, readjusting to life in the city after five days in the jungle.

         Sunday brought another day of unexpected events, though we have more or less come to expect the unexpected. Margot from Esperanza de Azama invited us to a celebration of our time there, which officially came to an end recently. (Under current circumstances, we may return there for another week, but we didn’t know this at the time.)

     After lunch, we went into the school building where a group of parents and children were there to greet us.  A group of four girls did a modern dance routine for us which, while lacking in practice, was certainly full of enthusiasm.  Then, in came a child wearing a traditional mask bearing a bowl of fruit.  She and Margot danced a kind of circular shuffle for a minute or two before the child came over and gave us the bowl of pineapple, papaya and bananas.  She took off the mask it revealed herself to be Maria, one of the girls we have got to know a little.  

     Two or three more groups of parents then each came bearing gifts of food – potatoes, corn, beans and rice.  Each time the group would dance in the traditional circular shuffle.  Nan and I were dragged into the circle to join them –somehow Emma avoided this part of the routine.  The families giving these gifts are typically very poor, so it was a real honor to be treated this way.  They wanted to show their appreciation for even the small amount of help that we have been able to give to the community.  As usual, we can’t escape the truth that it is they who are really helping us with an experience in life.  In response to their generosity and kindness, I gave my first short speech in Spanish which seemed to be understood, unless they were just smiling and laughing politely.

     Families such as these face all kinds of problems finding the resources to educate their children.  Whilst most children do manage to make it through primary school, a significant proportion of them do not manage to finish secondary school.  Girls tend to have children while they are still teenagers, which of course affects their educational prospects, but there are also those whose families cannot afford even the basic costs of uniforms and supplies.  $350 per year is enough to make the difference between a child who will stay home and work with the family, or go to school for another year.  It didn’t take much talk from Margot for Jacky to provide her own sponsorship to a girl from my 7^th grade class named Wendy.  It meant a lot that Jacky and Aimee could meet the family (minus the father who died recently – hence one of the reasons why the family is struggling), and establish a connection which will hopefully last for a long time to come.

     A week later, Nan, Emma and I had returned to the community just to pick up some of our things. Unbeknownst to us, we were about to get another insight into the value of education here. Saturday, April 13^th was Dia del Maestro – day of the teacher. Back in Maynard, there is a teacher appreciation day when many parents prepare a lunch feast for teachers – and it is indeed very much appreciated.  The approach in Ecuador is different, not least because students here are much more involved in the event. In the weeks prior to the day, the 7^th grade students practiced singing a kind of anthem, which is a tribute to teachers. Other children wrote poems and paragraphs of gratitude. Cati, Margot’s daughter, spends every afternoon helping students at the homework club in the community, thereby providing a valuable service to children who otherwise may not get the opportunity to complete their homework after school. In Esperanza de Azama, the Dia del Maestro was a day to celebrate Cati’s unflagging dedication to the students.

    A group of about 100 parents and children gathered by the volleyball court where a seat was set up for Cati (Nan & I were invited to join her, and our family got drawn into the celebrations).  A PA system was brought out, and there followed a series of presentations by students – dances, poetry readings and tributes from students and some parents for Cati. The dances were a mix of traditional Quechua steps, and a more contemporary reggaeton routine by three girls. It was very apparent that these children really value the contribution that Cati makes to the community.  Gifts included cards, flowers, and even a case of beer, which was soon opened and shared, even during the celebration.  I can only imagine the outcry in the local news if we tried that back home in Maynard. 

     After a couple of short speeches, the formality of the proceedings then transformed into more of a fiesta.  Dance music was played at that volume where the line between music and distortion is frequently crossed.  The beer was given out.  I was able to produce a bottle of Jameson’s whisky from Jacky’s suitcase that had been ‘lost’ at Quito airport. Marcelo (Cati’s dad) spent much of the next hour passing around as if it were a communion wine.  It was entertaining to watch the mixed reactions to the taste and sure enough, the bottle was completely shared quite quickly.

     We had to head back to Otavalo before the fiesta was done, but we managed our fair share of dancing and laughter – a fine way to remember the efforts of teachers around the World.  Now, what can we do to bring this tradition back to Maynard?

The dancing begins

     Nan here, with a few thoughts to add. When Emma and I finished volunteering at the school, we were sad to leave our teacher, Margot, and the kids with whom we’d spent so much time. They are so friendly and sweet, just longing for attention and more love. That was easy for us to give. Margot and I had tears in our eyes when we said good-bye. She thanked us many times, and hoped that we will return some day to help her and the children again.

     We didn’t end up teaching them Wheels on the Bus; I was ill for a few days back then, and Emma taught them a different song in my absence. I’m not familiar with the one she chose, but she said the children loved it. Any diversion from their regular schoolwork presents a welcome relief, of course!

     Mike and I are so proud of Emma. After not wanting to leave Maynard in January, she has really turned her frown upside down. She loves the kids just like I do, and she can see their potential for growing into wonderful adults. Her confidence in the classroom has increased to the point of teaching the song when I wasn’t there. Outside the class, Emma loves playing soccer with the children and teaching them gymnastics. And in the wider community, Emma has made many friends with other kids closer to her age, which is something she could not imagine before we arrived. She feels a strong connection there, and I think this community will stay in Emma’s heart for a very long time. I know it will stay in ours as well.