June 23, 2008
It starts today. 40 days of fasting. To change the world. By making needs known. It starts today and I’m excited to be a part of it. I’ll be fasting on July 27th and praying for this home-for-awhile of mine.
Be a part of the change.
Follow the crowd at Inspired to Action or check up on all of the other bloggers as they fast and pray for a place in need.
Pray for Brant today as he fasts for the place where God lives.
Posted in compassion, faith 
2 Comments »
June 20, 2008
It is afternoon. The middle of a school day and my classroom is quiet. There is no Spanglish chatter. There are no shuffling feet or screeching chairs. The floor is littered with shreds of colored paper and cookie crumbs. My desk is full of notes, drawings and gifts left by children that seem older today. Children that seem sweeter in their leaving.
I am alone and I let the silence wrap itself around me. There is a feeling of accomplishment. A sense of “I did it!” A sadness in another year gone by.
But this year was different from the others. It was more mine, I suppose. Before, I was surrounded by friends, family and teachers that I knew and adored. I could run next door and yell for Mink to kill the creepy things on the walls. I could find a cup of tea on my desk and know that my friend left it for me to warm up the morning. I could wander the halls and stop by fifty doors and know the hearts of the people behind them.
This year it was only me– a little girl trapped in a grown up world, living in a far off place, learning grown up things. And I made it. I lived the dream. I saw it through. The tears were minimal. The experience was magical. The year was mine.
In a few short minutes, I’ll push my chair away from my desk and clear away my things. I’ll climb aboard the bus and fight the nausea as we ride through the mountains. I’ll think about those twenty-four faces, their hugs, the sweet things they’ve said in the past ten months. I’ll think about them growing and me growing and how the world is still bright before us. I’ll be so very proud of how brave they are and how strong they are and how smart they are.
And I’ll be proud of me, too. For walking through corridors in a place that I didn’t know with people I’d never met. For talking to parents unashamedly in broken Spanish. For going when God said that I should. I’ll be proud of me for stepping out on faith when all I felt was fear.
Posted in colombia, faith 4 Comments »
June 19, 2008
Teaching is far from easy. In fact, some days I go home, throw myself on the floor, kick, scream, and swear that I’ll be a nurse someday. Or a beautician. Or an opera singer. Or a mime. Or anything on the face of the planet rather than a teacher. Some days it’s really that bad.
But then there are days like my first day. Or funny things that kids say. Or the sight of kids bobbing their precious heads to the sounds of The Drifters on a Friday afternoon. Or sweet voices singing along to the Jonas Brothers. (Heaven help me. I think I like the Jonas Brothers.) Or students who tell you they’re writing a book for you. Or that your pants are ugly.
The first year I taught there was a little boy in my class that I just loved. I adored him because he was all boy. He got sweaty at recess, wore his baseball uniform to school, and he didn’t like girls. He also came to swim every afternoon at the pool where I worked. One day while he was waiting on his mom to come out of the dressing room he looked at me and said, “Miss Witt, I’ve been praying for your husband.” I was floored and humbled by the way that that little boy had my future in his prayers.
About a week later, another student’s parents came to the restaurant that I love so much. As I was writing down their drink order I told them the story of the little boy and his prayer. I nearly choked when the dad said, “Well, Miss Witt, Brett would be praying for that, but the thing is he thinks he is that man.”
How stinking cute is that? (and yes, I had three jobs and I sort of loved them all.)
Posted in teaching 4 Comments »
June 18, 2008
The sun is warm and welcoming in Manizales today. Her rays are streaked across the mountains and the green, green grass and I am happy to be here. The children are laughing, thoughts of summer and five weeks of freedom on their faces. And there are blackberries on my desk.
The bag is brimming with the fresh berries and the students grin as I plunge my hand in excitedly for the sweetest of the bunch. Two or nine handfuls later, my finger tips are stained purple and my lips share their hue. We giggle at the enjoyment one can find in fruit and freedom and they gather at my feet as I tell them about a book that I adore. And there are blackberries.
The main character of the story vividly remembers her mother. One memory in particular is seared into the depths of her. Her mother in the yard, hands outstretched with a mouthful of blackberries. She throws her arms around a tree and kisses it in the noonday heat. The young girl watches the absurdity from her window
, waits on her mother to leave and then rushes down to the tree. The rich purple imprint of her mother’s lips is still fresh on the bark.
I want to be that mother. The mother who knows that the smallest, sweetest things in life are often purple and meant to be shared. The mother whose daughter watches in awe from an upstairs window. The mother that inspires wonder and praises the Earth for her goodness with hugs and summer dances. The mother that leaves blackberry kisses on trees and stories for daughters to tell.
Posted in books, colombia 4 Comments »
June 17, 2008
When I was a kid, I went to a good home town doctor whose name I can’t recall at the moment, although I’m sure he still works in the same building in the same home town. In his office was a nurse. I remember her hair pulled back tightly in a bun and glasses on her nose. She wore a stiff white skirt that made scratching sounds when she walked and thick white hose that made her legs look like those a snowman should have. And she had suckers. Green, yellow, and orange ones.
She gave me my very first shot. I was laying on that white paper that crunches when you move. It was cool on my face as my hot tears soaked the crinkly paper. I was terrified. I remember her voice and the soothing way she told me to be brave. She rubbed her hands together to make them warmer and then gently pinched my little girl bottom and pat, pat, patted the tender skin in her hand. Before I knew it, she was grinning at me and telling me what a big girl I’d been. I took my orange sucker, stood a bit taller, and felt like the bravest girl in all the world.
Since then, I really haven’t been afraid of needles at all. I gave blood regularly throughout college without flinching and have had vaccinations galore that involved those little pinpricks. And I was fearless through them all.
Until last Tuesday.
I went to the doctor about the aching leg that’s kept me from running for 18 days. We talked through medication options that would get me back on the exercising circuit quickly and determined that a series of six injections would be the most effective. No problem. I’m not afraid of needles.
I got my prescription filled and peeked inside the bag. You know those big honking fat pencils that kindergartners use? Yeah, there were six needles that looked just like that and I was scared. I admit it. Still, I brought the medicine to school in those little vials and watched as the school nurse tapped away the air bubbles, drew the yellow liquid into the syringe, and squeezed it until tiny droplets were sitting on top of that fat pencil needle. There was no crinkly paper and no warm hands or pats on the bottom, just a gigantic stick and a sting that lasted for six hours.
I’ve had all but one shot since then and there are two large purple bruises on my backside that prove it. And I’ve decided I’m not getting that last one. I can’t do it. I’m not a big girl. I’m not. My momma’s not here and the nurse doesn’t have suckers. I’m NOT a big girl. I’m not brave. I’m a whining, whimpering wuss of a woman and that’s just fine with me.
Posted in colombia 8 Comments »
June 17, 2008
Lou comments here often and asked about Pedro’s attire in yesterday’s post. So, here’s the thing. No, those aren’t the uniforms the kids here wear. Pedro was dressed for a mini production of Newsies that the fifth grade class presented.
I’ve always loved Newsies and have seen it countless times. I like the history, the old newspaper articles, and the thought of kids standing together fighting for justice. From the opening shuffle to the triumphant entry of good ole Teddy, I just can’t get enough. I hum ” Santa Fe” in the house and listen to ” Seize the Day” when I need a pick me up.
Now, Pedro was no Christian Bale, but then, I’ve never heard Christian Bale speak Spanish. So, they’re even. In my book anyway. And the little girl below, well she was just too cute in her suspenders. So, I posted her picture, too.
Posted in colombia 1 Comment »
June 16, 2008
I can’t help it. There are kids that I just really like a lot. Pedro is one of them. Pedro (left in the photo) is a 5th grader which means he isn’t in my class. Still, we interact a lot and I’m constantly impressed by his enthusiasm, his attitude, and what a leader he is becoming. He was a super star in the elementary production of Newsies which sealed the deal for me. Any Colombian kid that has a flawless New York accent in his singing voice gets props from me.
Last week the enrichment program presented their year long projects. Pedro braved the critics and did an independent project. Even better is that he created a website that I think even Dr. Mims would be proud to share. He wrote it all in English and presented it in English and Spanish for two audiences. I was so impressed that I asked him if I could share his website here.
When I asked him about the topic of his website, he said, “I just love it. I’m fascinated by the story.” I like kids that are fascinated by stories and to tell the truth, the story of the Titanic is one that I think is pretty fascinating, too.
Posted in colombia 4 Comments »
June 14, 2008
I was really excited about this week’s post because I made my very first video! Too bad it’s still uploading and Saturday’s on its way to over. Seeing as how I’m afraid of Carlos and all the other Ragamuffintoppers, I decided I should at least post a mini update. Cross your fingers that I’ll figure out this video thing soon. I’m a work in progress. What can I say?
Last week I told you about a little injury that I have. I went to the doctor this week and he gave me some serious medicine and an exercise ban until my next appointment. So, I’m all about diet change this week hoping to jazz up my goals a bit. I still want to meet the half marathon under two hours goal, but am going to focus on the weight part this week because, let’s be honest, I’m coming home soon. And Mississippi’s got biscuits.
Posted in Uncategorized 1 Comment »
June 14, 2008
It’s late on a Friday and I’m awake. Manizales is alive outside, the night just beginning. My window is open and there is a mountain breeze and music drifting through it. I can’t help but be a bit nostalgic and wonder where the days have gone. I landed in Colombia almost a year ago, excited to find some adventure, to be on my own and moving again. It’s been all that I expected it to be and so very much more and tonight I’m a bit sad to watch this year fade.
I’ll be in Mississippi in just over a week and will have said goodbye to twenty-four Colombian children that have managed to get me to wear pink, stand in a chairs and sing, and eat things that I can’t pronounce. It really has been an adventure.
Sure, I’ll board another plane in late July and come back for another year here, but I have a feeling it won’t be the same. I’ll be a little less nervous, slightly more prepared, and the luster of new will have dulled a bit. There will be new people flooding in and I’ll be the resident expert, I suppose.
I’ll speak the language and know which grocery stores to visit and where the best pastries are. I’ll know my way around the school and the city and how to best get away from them both. I’ll know good places to run and how to avoid the traffic, the stares, and some of the streetside jeers. I’ll know the best fruit stands and which bus to take. And I’ll look at all those new faces and see their eyes shining with the wonder of seeing everything for the first time and I’ll be just a little bit jealous.
Posted in Uncategorized 5 Comments »
June 13, 2008
I had to ask permission first.
Now that this mother and friend that I love so but shall forever remain nameless has given said permission, you’ve just GOTTA read some excerpts from the letter that she sent me.
There are those women who don’t gain a pound and never look like they even think about a piece of chocolate cake, much less conceive and give birth. I’m not one of those.
Seriously, she looks like she’s still in college- not like WE did in college- more like the KD-with-the-Sigma-Chi boyfriend type. And then there’s me.
I’ll let you use your imagination for “those.” I will just say- think African tribal woman teats.
Everything else just sags and what doesn’t sag is stretched horizontally and I don’t think there’s even a word for that. Whatever it is, it ain’t pretty.
Those moments I start daydreaming about getting my old self back, I just add another thing to my “when I get plastic surgery”list and go on with my day.
Sometimes I wonder how we got here and then I remember- by the grace and blessings of a good and loving God.
Posted in friendcitos 2 Comments »
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