February marks the start of the school year in Nicaragua so I have been thinking a lot about our future plans for the kids’ education. This is also perhaps the most common question we get asked about living here. Up until now I have glanced over at our little toddlers and nonchalantly shrugged that we had some time to figure it out. But in what seemed like a blink of an eye, Coco had turned 4 and was constantly asking about when she was going to start school.
At her age, we felt that the main objectives were the social elements of gaining some independence from us, interacting with new friends, and getting her accustomed to the routine of a school day. Through our work with our non-profit, we were familiar with the local elementary school and although it lacked in amenities we believed it fit our criteria.
I had always imagined that my firstborns first day of school would be a BIG deal as far as childhood thresholds go but I had underestimated how emotional it would be for me.
Leading up to the start of school we tried to prepare her for the transition, but these discussions also highlighted some of the potential stresses that lay ahead. I explained that all the kids receive a meal and drink each day (a government sponsored food program), but she must not eat or drink anything apart from what I packed in her bag or she might get an upset tummy (the meals are prepared at the homes of volunteer parents using well water). I instructed her on how to use the toilets and that there wouldn’t be any paper so I’d send some in her bag. I asked her to stay away from the dilapidated rusty old playset that lay on the ground as it wasn’t safe. I reassured her that although she might not understand everything the teacher said in Spanish she would soon get used to the routine.
I thought that we were ready, but the first day of school arrived and Coco informed us that she could wait and go to school another time, maybe in a few weeks! As my anxiety probably exceeded hers, my reflex reaction was to agree, but we ploughed on regardless. Being the only non-Nicaraguan to have ever attended the school, and the only child to be dropped off by a vehicle, our arrival at the school was received with a lot of attention. The older kids called her name, came up to the class window and stared, and in some cases came in to her classroom to pet her! Coco didn’t understand why she had created such a fuss and this made her apprehensive. Soon she was in tears and wanted to go home. I agreed to stay with her but to sit at the back of the class and read my book. The teacher introduced her to the class of 6 students and they fell in to their daily routine …. They spent some time completing tasks in a workbook, they sang some songs, followed by a question and answer time and finally some free play. At this point Coco excitedly showed me the class ‘toys’ which consist of 2 tiny plastic cars with no wheels, a dolls leg, and a dinosaur with no tail (basically garbage). My heart broke just a little!
A few more minutes passed and I raised my eyes from my book to discover that all the kids had their backpacks on. I glanced at the time and realized that it was only 9am and class was meant to finish at 10.30am. The teacher explained that she had ‘something to do’ so class was finished for the day. So the 7, 3-5 year old kids all filed out of the school yard, on to the dirt road and started walking the mile or so home all by themselves, and no-one batted an eye! My husband was not due to pick us up for another hour and a half so I quickly sent him a message and we started to walk. Meanwhile I was counting my blessings that I happened to be at the school as I was not sure what Coco would have done if left to her own devices. As we walked, I listened to her protests that “it was too far and it was hot!”, and I was acutely aware that the kids walking with us had no other option but to walk which was unacceptable to my daughter! While I rebutted her complaints, I was also praying that she did not get sunburned during our mid-morning meander!
While I coerced Coco along, the other kids found some berries on the ground and were merrily eating them. One of the girls offered some to Coco who scrunched up her face at the idea of eating overripe berries from the dirt and exclaimed “yuck”! Oh gosh, I think, it is only the first day and she is going to become known as the gringa princess! At this point my husband arrived in the truck and we cram all 7 kids into the back seat, with them giggling and yelling all the way home as it was such a novelty!
Even though it was technically only an hour and a half since we had taken Coco to school, it felt like a lifetime. As soon as I was at home, I burst into tears. I was oscillating between the feeling of wanting to protect my daughter from this crazy experience of being ‘the odd man out’ and the knowledge that we are so bloody privileged.
Six months have passed since this day and now her brother has joined the pre-school class. Our battered white truck has become the ‘school bus’, picking up kids all along the road! School is cancelled or finishes early frequently, which is a constant frustration. Despite my instructions, Coco and Alonzo eat the school meals, use the bathroom with no paper, and play on the rusty playset; and although I continue to worry, no harm has come to them! Coco has asked me more than once if I am aware that there are schools in Canada because her school is dirty and everything is broken! We know that this is not the long term educational plan for them but right now they wake up and are excited to go to school, they come home full of stories, and love playing with their friends. And encase you’re wondering, Coco’s Spanish is now way better than mine!
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