day eight : getting better all the time

Yesterday a friend took me around town. The best fishmonger, the best doctor, the best place to get salbutes, the preschool, the guy who can fix anything, the pharmacy where the medicine is good. She's taken me under her wing a bit, an American who has lived here her entire life, she welcomes a new face. We are fast becoming friends. Our kids play and play and play. She gave me a mailing address I can use, some of you have asked for it and if you still want it please email me. An address feels like a victory, internet at home will feel like I've won the lottery.

We went to visit one of two potential schools for M. In my mind only one will suffice, the other still considers lashing good discipline. So that left only one option and we drove down a dirt road to the end, a white placard on the lawn. It's a cinderblock building spilling over with children but the walls are brightly painted and the teachers are laughing, their caribbean accents make everything sound delicious. When we walked in one of them clapped their hands we have an international pagent next month and no American girl but now, yes baby, we have one! And they laughed. We sat and watched the teachers sing songs and practice days and months, first in english then in spanish. From this point on M will get to learn in both. She doesn't seem to mind all the differences. My eyes well up at the thought.

It's rustic, all of it. No American school looks like this and yet it's good. It feels good. M likes it and agrees to try it and we all agree to come back next week. Just like that, we've found a school. There are things they need that they cannot get here, packs of crayons where there are multiple numbers of the same colors. Pencils too. I see potential here too in ways maybe I can help.

Today I woke up and walked down the path to a lodge and was welcomed by barking dogs and coffee and after a few minutes sat under a palapa with parrots and iguanas and the river and took a yoga class. I have not felt this still in years. It's only once a week and I can't wait to go back. I laid on the damp wood and breathed as deeply as I could. I don't know the last time I've breathed like this.

Tonight we are going to a restaurant where we hear the expats gather once a week. We are slowly meeting people, local and foreign and are finding our way. We are finding our way.



Bookmark and Share