Chester Migue

Tlacochahuaya is filled with random dogs, but I learned this afternoon that the children have named many of them as I caught them trying to determine if one of the dogs was Chester or Miguel. Growing impatient with the “discussion” which included some punching and name-calling, I suggested maybe the poor perro was Chester Miguel. The dog didn’t seem to mind either way as the boys agreed: Chester Miguel! And, the other dog: Miguel Chester, of course.

When it started to pour, around five, the students, having endured an hour of English class, insisted on taking a break. They headed off into the weather, and Chester Miguel slowly dragged himself up the stairs onto the porch that is our classroom and plunked himself beneath the quiet table next to my feet.

We would have to be patient for the wet children— who’d found ice somewhere and couldn’t keep their freezing hands off of each other and me—to get back to the task at hand—whatever that was.

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