Mr. Stone, Rocky Stone

Today was another day for cycling but a sore throat bothered me. The night had gone cold and it worsened my throat. Saltwater helped but I had plans today to meet the community school of Ifikoko. Lunchu has a school but run by the government and staffed under incredibly roofed buildings. Though there is overcrowding, students only have to pay a small fee for the year. The community school has thatched classrooms and only two certified teachers with two others volunteers only passed the fifth grade. The children pay a higher fee. 10 kwatcha a month for each child. Imagine a family with three kids paying for each month when you earn less than that per year. Where every year depends on your crops. Here only down the street from the Lunchu government school, more girls are married off and gotten money from their bride price than wasting money on school.

We talked about clubs and the amount of time required for each workshop and planned to take our time as there is too much to do and we should not rush.

 

As we cycled to the school, Violet’s bike pedals came loose and so she found a stone to hit them into place. Until she realized how often it happened, she picked a new stone every time. Until the one stone that kept the pedal in. She smiled at me and says, “This one wants to come with us!” And she tied it to her bike rack.

As we rode on, she called out to the stone,

Mr. Stone? Are you holding on? You’ve fixed my bike and I will go fast now so make sure to stay!

I couldn’t breathe from laughing at this woman sing to the rock. After we had left the school, we rested on the side of the road under a tree from the hot sun. The stone fell down and she shook her head.

You came here with us and you will go back home! Stop fighting, Rocky!

She tied it right and we rode back talking about planning how the clubs will work and timing as well as if it will work out. Violet was positive and I was pessimistic.

Who am I to say and teach? My counterpart knows just as much, maybe even more. These are one of many questions that flood our minds.

But it is up to us to make the structure and figure out what to do.

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Watching the fire that broke out to kill the body of the dead snake was the Die Snake! Fan Club. My adorable kids and the best thing of my day!
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Burning the field to really kill the snake, though it is already dead…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rome wasn’t built in a day, Violet reminds me.

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