Vamos a Jugar

When I walk past the school, I feel a little bit like a rockstar. Kids come running to the fence to say hello to me. “Jenna! Adios! See you Monday for music class!” Groups of first and second graders watch be walk down the street until I am out of sight. I cannot walk past without feeling like I have received a giant hug from every child I see.

Chris and I teach music education to over 200 children in the town of Suchitoto, in the school next to Centro Arte named El Grupo. Kids here don’t know many songs, singing is more for churches than children. We give them the opportunity to learn how to sing (not yell…) and also to play instruments, learn about music from different cultures. We have fun together.

I also go to La Mora, which is a rural community where I teach music to 75 kids. Last week I received at least 20 hugs and kisses, and 4 pieces of art from some kids from some 2^nd and 3^rd graders! This is the first time I’ve received art from the kids, I think it’s a sign they like me! Haha.

I have never felt so appreciated as I do when I go to the rural school. The kids are so full of joy. Granted, some still roll their eyes and ask why we can’t play guitar. A little boy in my class rang the school bell last week and everyone thought school (and music class) was over for the day.

I sat down with the kids and explained, “this makes me sad. It hurts my feelings. If you respect me, I will respect you. Ok? Next week will be better, right?!” And all the kids yelled in response, “siiiiii!” I have learned that yelling and reacting in anger is not very effective. I am trying to build the kids up, to encourage and empower them instead of scold them. It’s a tricky balance!

Sometimes I feel guilty. I feel so loved here. The children are so fascinated by me, they want to sit by me (all of them) and play with me in their free time and ask me what my favorite color is.

I feel I am a representative of the United States, where so many of their parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles live. They cannot visit there. To get a tourist visa, the application costs $100 (a lot of money in El Salvador). They require that you show that you have a good paying job, so that you will not “try to stay in the USA” and work illegally. It is truly inhumane.

When I first started working in La Mora, I was uneasy about what to do during their recess time. It is 45 minutes, enough time for all the kids to eat and play. I felt that I needed to work, or prepare for my classes. A 5 year old girl named Michelle would always come in and say “let’s play!” I would respond, “I have to work right now”. And she would respond, “No, let’s play!”

Now I do play, I sit with the kids and I talk with them and their teachers. My Spanish is still not perfect, I don’t always understand everything, but it is good to be with them. Pupusas and fresh fruit juice taste better at 10AM after teaching a few hectic music classes with kindergarten and first graders.

At the end of our music classes, we sing a song called "estamos descansado", we are resting. The kids in La Mora almost always pile on top of me in a giant hug, and we "fall asleep" together for about one minute. It is a sweet minute.

Salvadorans say “hay que descansar”, “one must rest”. I am learning to rest. I am learning to not take myself so seriously. I am learning to accept the love that I receive, and to give it back.