The beach and a bad tummy bug

Friday was an adventure.

By 7 am we were at the schools rallying the kids, dressed in cute summer dresses and shorts to match. Water, tick. Sunscreen, tick. Hat, tick. As we piled into the rather luxurious coach I smiled, there was so much anticipation on their faces, so much excitement. After all, we were going to the beach.

Arequipa is about 2,500 metres above sea level, and about 2.5 hours drive from the beach. But in that time the excitement only built. Are we there yet? doesn't even capture it. As soon as the sea came into view, the excitement was palpable. Kids rushed to smush their faces against the window, to jest at each other, to cajole in the eagerness.

Once we arrived we made our way across the hot sand and set up camp. The air was warm, the sun hot and the mood light. Today was a day to play, a day to be children, to build sand castles and splash. And what a day it was...

Grabbing the hands of two coy girls I jumped in, the Pacific is COLD. But the giggles and squeals that came from the kids kept me warm.

Uno, dos, tres. Jump. A cool wave washes over our knees. Uno, dos, tres, jump.

The games went on for hours. The kids never seemed to get cold. As the girls merely squealed at the waves, I joined some boys as they threw themselves headlong into them, tasting the rush of salt and bubbles. In the background I saw the younger kids building sand castles, playing tag, poking jellyfish.

We were at the beach for about 4.5 hours, and I'm sure some of those kids spent the whole time in the cold water, lapping up every splash and wave. As I sat on the shore, next to my sea turtle sand creation, Tara (a wide smiling American with a wicked sense of humour) and Laura (that lovely tall American who cares for the kids more than herself) I asked, "who would you share this moment with?" And in sync we all said each other.

No one could get the same satisfaction watching these kids frolic in the sea, to the backdrop of the blue sky and parked ship.

So as we drove home, leaving behind the sea, the bus was quiet for a moment. The kids exhausted from their day in the sun. And as the bus carved its way back up to Arequipa, through an arid, dusty landscape devoid of hope and plants, I reflected. The sea has always been something I've known, and taken for granted. These children got the experience it today, and many for the first time.

And what a magical experience it was...

After such an enriching week, I had high hopes for the weekend. Unfortunately, my tummy had other ideas. On Saturday morning, at 5.30am I was greeted by that dreaded stomach bug. For the next 36 hours I slept constantly, only waking to tend to my tummy.

By Sunday afternoon I was feeling slightly better, but completely drained. And by this morning, Monday, I was feeling stubbornly better and determined to get to school.

So I donned my overalls, my best smile and set off. Monday was English class, and I had promised myself to give these kids everything, right?

But, today was really tough. The kids had extra energy having had the whole weekend to stir, and I was still feeling weak and tired from a weekend of being a slave to my bowel. English went well, I think, and we learnt classroom things, like table, chair, pencil, which I can quiz them on regularly.

My lowlight was being left in the room of 30 children with no instruction. Senorita Carmen just left. And the kids ran riot. Aldrick? Sientate! (Sit!) Louis, what happened? Fernanda, please stop crying. And yes Fabricio, you can go to the bathroom.

But true to my word, I gave them everything. And I have the best art lesson planned for Wednesday.

So, as I sit here, I smile. Watching Jimera work out how to subtract without my help. Seeing Deyvis peel a banana backwards. Feeling Berli's hug. Again, I am reminded of patience, love and energy- I am the student. And I'm grateful for these lessons.

The beach and a bad tummy bug