Peaceful Pathway☮

I’m currently sitting in a session put on by the Fire Chief of La Palma about “Control and Circumvention of Fires”.   He started with the history of fires. In other words… yawn . Today the students had the day off so that the teachers could all attend this meeting. I’m grumpy and not wanting to be here, so instead I’ll update my blog (after all, there’s no wifi, and nobody around me can really read English to tell the difference between this and notes).   These past two days have been the first practices of the Choir Genesis. I have been so undoubtedly nervous that I haven’t really realized how quickly they’ve gone.   The first day I had about 18 students show up, and yesterday there were 28! The students are from 1 st grade all the way up to 9 th grade and since I’ve never directed a choir before, my fear of inadequacies are keeping me preoccupied.   Furthermore, I’ve decided to register the students to sing in a competition on September 8 of El Salvador’s National Anthem

So…remember how I told you about my “African moments”…? Those particular moments that slapped me upside the head on a random day and reminded me that I was living in Africa? Yeah…well after today, I’ve learned that there are “Central American moments” too… This evening, as I was lounging on my bed, accessing some of the Facebook, my host sister comes in my room and asks me, “Vienes con nosotros, Janina?” (Are you coming with us, Janina?) I’ve learned that when anyone asks me a question similar to this one, I always say yes, without any follow-up queries.   The mantra of “don’t ask questions” has led me to some very interesting places in my life…as was the case with tonight. We sprinted to the car and the wiper blades were turned to their fastest mode as the rain splashed unforgivingly on the windshield.   I finally asked, “ Entonces…adónde vamos pues ?” (so…where are we going?) and I was answered with “La Carmen”, as if it was something I should have known. I nodded in blind

I sat on the earth, now warmed by the sizzling fire, outside Lorato’s house. I could sense my time in Botswana was coming to a close, but I still forbade the thought to manifest itself in my mind. This had been my home for the past two years, how could I simply pick up and leave? I turned to look at the kids who were playing and screaming, the same kids who had approached me as children with fervent curiosity 25 months earlier.  I had watched them grow, we had been there for one another during the extreme highs and the deep lows of life and now it was as if I had to accept that I may never see them again.  I had said many goodbyes before, but there was a sense of permanence to this one that it pierced my very soul.  I fondly recollect my first few weeks at site and how I locked myself in the house, praying for the days to pass more quickly.  Everything had felt so scary and new and each step outside my front door was the bravest thing I had done that day.   Feelings of self-doubt