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Published: January 25th 2015
My afternoon pupil
My name's Stefan. I'm 7 yrs old Stefan, a 7yr old boy runs to his bedroom when I arrive with Jose at his house for lunch. One of ten children he returns moments later with his exercise book and a broad cheeky smile on his face.
I'm at Queenie's. The home of Jose in barrio Los Fondadores on the outskirts of Santa Marta. Unmade roads, ramshackle block houses with tin roofs packed into every square meter of land. Kids playing football in bare feet. Old men sat at tables playing dominoes. Dogs roaming the streets. Corner shops displaying their wares. Women holding their children sat in the shade of their stoop. This is the other side of Colombia. The real side.
Queenie is busy preparing dinner and from the smells coming from the pot on the stove it's going to taste delicious.
Jose is the eldest of ten children. Going on the pill after four children his mum had to stop as it was effecting her health. However six more kids duly arrived. All absolutely gorgeous. In a tiny four room ground floor house, with living room/kitchen and three bedrooms, sometimes up to 15 people live here. Two bedrooms packed with bunk beds, the remainder
HMS innocent childhood
Creation their compass. Destination -imagination. being a double for mum and dad (though I suspect some kids sleep here too.)
Dad is out. A trail guide for the walking tour to Cuidad Perdido, (lost city) he carries the tents, food and equipment for the walk. He is sometimes gone for days sometimes weeks on end. Mum makes ends meet selling sweets, mobile phone vouchers and cooking for the likes of me.
Though the house is unpainted, a construction like all others of block walls and concrete floors, it is spotlessly clean.
In the tiny back yard with the toilet and chicken coop, three children sit in a pretend boat made from plastic bottles. With the eldest as the captain their imaginations are running wild. Thoughts of a land they've only ever seen on a tiny television their destination.
No iPads here. No computer games, PS3 and X-boxes. No gadgets. No internet. No must have latest fad.
Just plastic bottles for a boat and a beer bottle as the tiller.
Stefan proudly shows me his work. Drawings of space and adventure.
I tell him my name is Dave and I'm an English teacher.
"How are you?" He repeats several times. His
Los Fondadores
Google street view face lights up.
Whilst mum finishes what turns out to be the best chicken dinner I've eaten in a long time, I teach him some basics. Within a few minutes he's running up and down the street, holding out his arms like an aeroplane shouting "My name is Stefan. I'm 7 years old" at the top of his voice.
A fantastic afternoon and moving experience. I could've sat in the porch for hours.
The lessons I learnt in Vietnam reinforced in the barrios of Colombia.
Invest a few minutes of your life in someone and it will reward you more than all the wealth in the world.
It's true. All you really need in life is enough.
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brizo
non-member comment
nice one
great to read your travel notes disco, another fine trip, and humbling experiences. great lessons in life you are spot on. carry on.