Uncapturable Moments

I want to try to describe a scene from yesterday that is hard to capture without being in it and understanding all the details of each person, culture, and environment.

The little ones are all waking up from naptime, one at a time, and entering the office where Zulema is combing all the little girl’s hair, and checking for lice. I am cutting fingernails. Our 6 year old, Genesis, is doing her kindergarten homework. The sky outside is getting darker, and it makes the room darker. I honestly don’t know how she can check for lice in this light. To describe the room, 8 feet by 10 feet, including a desk, book shelf, cabinet of supplies, a smaller storage cabinet, a rolling wood piece where we stack the extra mats and where we store them after naptime, and then two chairs. Oh, plus we have one of the boys sleep in the office, so he’s not a distraction. So there is not much floor space and about 7 of the kids are awake from naps. We let them come in and sit on our laps and when they wake up a little more, pick books to look at.

It was surreal with all the kids close to us, the room getting darker with the rain coming and everyone in different stages of “awakeness.” I have one little girl on my lap, still waking up, and a three- year old girl sitting next to me, “reading” books. In Honduras, we don’t use the lights as much because all the windows are always open and light and air move freely. We have the windows that have about 10 horizontal slats that are always open. On the other side are bars. Most windows here have bars, and when they don’t you notice it.

So the rain begins, then the flash floods through the dirt streets as they wash away; and the three- year old (as she’s looking at her book) just says, “My mom’s going to get wet.” At that moment, I became conscious to the scene around me. I couldn’t just take a picture of it, but I didn’t want to forget it either. What three year old looks out the window, sees rain, and automatically thinks of her mother getting wet? It’s a life of being in the streets and knowing her mom is outside all the time. It made me think of a preschool in the States, with windows close (granted there is air conditioning) and an afternoon rainstorm is just that, rain.

It’s every day moments like these that are hard to capture in pictures, and even with words. But its what I remember and think about most when I try to describe what I do and where I am.