On this Saturday in Rey Curré, my senses captured a host of
sights, smells, sounds, and tastes. When
I opened my eyes, I saw the mosquito net hanging above me, and I smelled the
"gallo pinto," fried rice and beans, cooking. As I went for a morning run, I heard the
sound of one of my most affectionate students, Maria, yelling,
"Tiiicher!" After inviting me
to her house for a quick review lesson, I accepted and was gifted with a fresh
cup of a pineapple rice drink. I held
her baby brother, but not for long, because they made the comment that he had
"gripe," or the flu, and I want to stay far away from that.
In the afternoon, I heard for the first time the sound of a pig squealing
right before it took its last breath. My
host brother held the pig down while a family friend beat it over the head and
drained its blood at the neck with a knife.
I make it sound gruesome because it was.
But, I can't believe how much pork I have eaten in my life and, up to
this point, had yet to see it from the farm to the table.
Later, I smelled the pork cooking over the wood fire stove, and I
heard the sound of my computer keys ticking away as I finished writing a test
for my 3rd graders and prepared for Adult classes on Sunday. I heard the Spanish church songs as I
prepared myself for the service on Sunday.
In the early evening, I took a short walk up the road to the home
of the retired Indian language teacher.
I heard her recite the words for father and mother in the Borucan
language as I tried to imitate. Constantly
keeping myself in the shoes of a learner helps me to be a better teacher. Right now, this indigenous language is just a
bunch of letters and sounds, but equally, my students probably feel the same
way about English.
Finally, I enjoyed the tastes of the pork, rice, beans, and fried
plantains as I rounded the evening off with dinner and a short Skype call with
my sister, brother-in-law, and two wild nephews. ;)
It was a lovely day and altogether intriguing to my senses.
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