Even the dust can be a blessing

It's been raining.  Raining, raining, raining. Almost 9 1/2 inches in the last 5 days. Such rain means different things to different people.  In general, rain is considered a blessing here.  Now streets are flooded, some roads too muddy to pass, and some children cannot cross streams to go to school.  All within 30 minutes of beachfront resorts. It's a paradox living in a tourist area.

I slid down our cement stairs in the rain on Tuesday and am now nursing a swollen elbow with frozen peas, grateful I didn't break anything.  It made for a rough start this morning, but today was a day I came home reminded how blessed I am to be here.  The day started with a meeting comparing notes with a women's group fighting AIDS in which a school teacher shared stories you wouldn't want to believe are true.  As I commiserated that some of the situations of my students are similar, another woman turned to me and asked what I was doing to help them.  I told her I often ask myself that same question.  A few hours later and 10 miles away, I visited the home of a child who has been out of school for almost a year.

It's muddy and they live halfway down a hill towards the ocean inlet, where the ships wait for their turn at the port.  We jumped over puddles and crevasses filled with rubbish that has no other place to be.  We walked on the grass so we wouldn't slide down the hill until we reached their half-finished house.  They had been paying $12/month per rent, but with five children to feed and no reliable work, it's better not have to pay rent.  I checked the "homework" the children had been doing at home and encouraged them to study more, enthralled with them as much as they were with me.  To be a visitor can be such a gift.  To be welcomed and loved just for coming and caring.  It's not that simple, but some moments are to be taken and savored for what they are. 

Outside the house was a line of containers catching rain water.  I started to refuse when my hostess started cleaning my shoes before I left, knowing that I would be trudging through mud and puddles on my way home.  She insisted, saying even the leaving the dust behind can be a blessing.  After my shoes were clean, she then insisted I clean my feet as well before going. I dirtied one bucket of water by putting my foot in it & then after trying to balance myself on the other one and scoop water to rinse my foot, she proceeded to clean my feet as well.  Humbling.

I hope her daughter will go to school tomorrow.  She promised she could manage to pay the entrance "interview fee", as I paid for the required admission fee - which I was told includes a desk, the compulsory school badges, tie, report book, and firewood, etc.  Partnering with parents to meet the requirements for "free" primary education is a challenge and a gift.