Pobrecito

As I was sitting in the back of a car with one of the worst colds I've had in years and two chain smokers sitting in front of me this past Sunday I started to do something that I rarely do, pool the poor me card. Not just one poor me card but a couple of them. The cards went something like this,

Poor me...Spanish is hard. Not just normal hard but the really challenging, makes me feel incredibly stupid, hard. I can't even remember the freakin' verb Hacer for god's sake. And I fully know that every time someone says I speak Spanish well they are lying, LYING. I can't do this, especially whenever I try to say something beyond Como te fue or Que pasa and  people respond in English because they want to practice their English. Bullshit, pure and utter bullshit.

Which leads into one of the other poor me cards...

Poor me...what the hell am I doing in a big city like Quito? I should be in the middle of the country with pigs and chickens running around in my front AND backyard.  I guess I am not such a big city girl after all nor am I a girl that does very well in the rain. And speaking of rain, why did not one single person tell me that it pours, not cats and dogs, but rhinos and elephants e-v-e-r-y  s-i-n-g-l-e day here. It doesn't help that I only have one pair of closed toe shoes and no money to buy another. Don't even get me started on how expensive everything is in the big city and the politics that make it this way. Nor get me started on the black soot that has started to make a permanent home on my ankles from all the exhaust or the constant city noises that last until the dark hours of the night or the fact that my students tell me that I live in one of the most dangerous sectors of the city.

Oh poor f*&^#$ me...

As my car ride progressed my thoughts got worse and worse as I racked up complaint upon complaint about my current situation. Typically, during these rare occurrences, I give myself a swift kick in the ass but the optimism and creative problem solver in me must have gone on hiatus because I just could not kick the poor me cards out of my head. I almost cried and I carried my bad thoughts all the way into Monday along with the cold that was still haunting me.

Monday morning class was  uneventful and as almuerzo time  approached the black cloud  was still following me. After lunch I headed to my  extra afternoon class at Colegio Nuestra Madre de la Merced. This was to be my last class with the teachers and that had me even more down. I taught painstakingly slow because I didn't want it to end. This school, these people feel like home to me and at that point the only solution that I could find to my problem was finding a piece of home. Eventually the end of class approached and it was time to hand out certificates. As I called up the first teacher she threw herself on me and gave me a hug like I have never had before. I do cry. They cry. They take pictures with their cell phones. Each one hugs me like they were my mom. They thank me for being their teacher, for making class funny (which was really me just being self-deprecating), for being patient with them. They invite me to all their school festivals, they offer me a job, they wipe my tears. As I start to pack up one of the teachers brings me back to the front of the room, she says they have something to give me. She starts by apologizing to me that she won't be speaking in English and then proceeds to tell me how much it has meant to them to have a fellow teacher in their school. I understand it all and magically my response comes out in real, full Spanish sentences and they understand it and we hug again. She then hands me an envelope filled with money, a gift from them all for new shoes (or a bikini as one of them shouts out). I hand it back, there is no way I can accept it, teachers here make less than I do teaching summer school. They refuse and shove it back into my hands. I know I can not win against this bunch. As I head out the door they make me promise to come back and I promise I will. And of course I will, how could I not, they gave me my smile back. They kicked my ass for me.

And oh yes, I did get new shoes but not from the money they gave me. That money will end up in the hands of another soul who actually has real problems, not ones made up by a self-absorbed emotional chick stuck behind chain smokers, with a cold, in the back of a car for four hours.