I never realized how much having a class pet in elementary school could affect your life. Looking back, do y'all remember all your class pets or is it just me? I especially remember the 2 praying mantises (sp.?) we had in 2nd grade. They were pretty gross and at recess the boys would take them out and play with them. Over long holidays someone had to take them home but there was this one kid who liked bugs and snakes and so he always volunteered.
Anyways, so life goes on over here and I was recently reminded of how great or just how incredibly horrible class pets can be. It's a good thing my second grade teacher didn't allow us to name our insects. We never voted and decided on one specific name, although what a great way to teach young kids about democracy...maybe that's the underlying issue here...hmmm.
If you've been reading the international news lately you might have heard a story about a class pet around these parts. It's funny. I've been living in the Sandbox for a while now and I've gotten so used to the tension that a lot of times I forget about it. Over time strange things become normal and then they fade into the background of life, until something happens and I'm suddenly reminded of how things are not OK here, this isn't a peaceful country and there are people here who do not like foreigners and are just waiting for a reason.
One of my friend's moms is here this week. We were talking with a local friend and it came up that she teaches at a school in the states that is very close to an airport. The guy we were talking to was totally confused about how they could maintain order in that school, how the kids weren't totally afraid and hiding under their desks every time an airplane passed by. He didn't realize that our country is actually a peaceful place where airplanes don't necessarily mean that the bombs and the bad guys are coming.
He told us his story. He was 12 and going to school in another village when the planes came. They dropped some bombs nearby and all the children ran into the woods to hide. Next the bad guys came, killed everyone they found and burned the village down. He said he and his friends didn't know where they were going, they just ran as fast as they could. Last year, after 24 years, he returned home for the first time and found his family.
Stories like this one not uncommon and my heart breaks every time I hear someone talk about their horrible childhood. The people here have seen and lived through some of the most atrocious things, and yet they are resilient. Somehow they have managed to survive, I don't know how, but they have.
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3 comments:
These words are about two real people, one famous and one not at all, who happen to share a name in a country not far away and not at all dissimilar from yours. It speaks of the burdens placed on children by these 'conflicts'
Masood
in the dust of war our hearts had scars
and still open wounds
lies that we had told to preserve
had worn through
oh, the night feels so quite again
i lie awake thinking
of the hope
of the hope that's
of the hope that's laid on me
the blood still lies fresh
underneath the green flags
my father like a lion bared his teeth
and never drew back
oh, now i alone carry my mother's name
at night i can hear her praying
of the hope,
of the hope that's laid on me
Thanks for sharing....I don't have a TV so I don't know much about news stuff but my boss came in and told me today b/c she knew I used to live there... Then I spent the rest of the day reading stories and worrying about you. Yeah, I assumed you probably stayed in today just like we did when I was there...but still. Have a great weekend and I'll get with you about what I'd like you to read :-)
your stories are amazing. i know technically they are their stories, but to hear you retell them is really awesome.
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