"Wild Card Inside"
Little angels they were. Polite, cheery, and amenable, these are the students of St. Barnabas Primary School. The first day (Monday, June 15) that Melissa and I arrived at St. Barnabas, we were led by the inspirational Ms. Shaw, the school principal. The moment she stepped into the Standard III & IV classroom, the children’s faces immediately brightened with smiles, as if on cue. The scribbling pens in their hands paused mid-sentence, and the children all rose and greeted in an innocently imperfect unison, “Good morning, Ms. Shaw.” The most adorable scene I have ever seen.
My first task was to help proctor a standardized national exam for Standard III students. The teacher Ms. Jones allowed the students to follow their normal school day schedule, which meant taking a break that would cut their 90-minute exam session into a session of 10 and another of 80. Also, Ms. Jones frequently pointed out students’ mistakes during the tests. It appears that the rules for standardized tests in Belize aren’t as stringent as their American counterparts.
Then my heart was broken during lunch. Melissa and I were sitting by the aged mahogany tree, and a bunch of children flocked to us, eyes brimming with curiosity. Though some were a bit timid at first, soon enough we were conversing with total trust. Melissa had a few girls clamped onto her, some playing with her bracelets, some braiding her hair. By popular demand, I ended up teaching Chinese and laughed with the children as they fumbled with the pronunciation. Melissa and I were then eating our sandwiches which Ms. Erva (a very nice lady and restaurant owner) packed for us. Some children brought food from home; some bought food from the school; the rest brought and bought nothing. Those who brought and bought nothing quietly watched me eat and discreetly glanced into my lunch bag. I had anticipated this situation and knew that I should eat to give myself enough energy to last through the day, as I was told by past Duke Engagers, but I still felt a strong urge to give away my food. Heck, I wanted to buy food for all these children. Throw a dinner party, for goodness’ sake.
So the world is really a juxtaposition of two groups of children: those who eat lunches and those who don’t. Those who don’t are just as polite, cheery, and amenable as the rest, but if you really look, their uniforms are a paler shade of blue; their smiles contain a trace of enigma, and their actions tinged with timidity. But they all are good children, or rather, great children, with all the strength they need to welcome tomorrow. Then came Tuesday morning, again I stepped into the Standard III & IV classroom, this time alone. As if on cue, they widened their grins all together and stood up and said in the most perfect unison to my ears, “Good morning, Miss Alice.”