I wanted to start this post with: The odd thing about Tlacochahuaya is… but then I stopped and remembered that you already know too many odd things for me to pretend there is only one.
The odd thing this week was a group that arrived at the municipal building to teach children, really no more than five years old, how to do the dances featured in the Guelaguetza. I took note of their attempt to practice from my seat on the concrete bench, my classroom.
I again took note of them when the rain unleashed on their lesson and they hurried up the stairs to crowd under the porch’s roof. The noise, the moisture, the small space meant chaos for any lesson (even one that involved games and prizes).
There I sat with a table full of books and notes and pens and prizes, and there stood the tiny children, looking at me as if I were a television program or some other strange show that no one expected. What else could I do but sit there and make funny faces?
shewhodaresnothing 