Framed Moments

So you reach some place, one that makes you look around and makes you think and say, "So, this, is where I'll be staying..." which is somewhere between a question and simply a blunt statement. The tone of that carries hints of wishing you weren't where you were at that particular moment.

This episodic moment happened on a hot and humid afternoon two Sundays ago. It was the last day of May. Sweat was dampening my T-shirt. Then, there was that sticky-ickish feeling (from the sweat) of which I think, if someone said something irritating to my face right then and there, my temper would have flared.

Ha. Kidding.

We... were the newcomers. I bet there was a little more self-consciousness there since we got a little more attention. Expected. I can imagine how'd it be like if the situation was vice versa - me, the villager. We were in a village where the only access out was up a steep hill. Now, I don't mean to make this place sound so disconnected from the outside world of technology and all that. They've got cars parking outside.

"SASS Task Force". All together there were 20 of us, 16 students and 4 teachers - me being the quite useless one. Why did we bring ourselves there at the beginning of a school break? As for my case, I didn't really have a choice. But, neither was I heavily reluctant to go. I made a promise to myself to go along since I didn't do so in the previous one last year. We didn't show ourselves there to promote the school. It was more or less like a "duty of evangelism" (if I got this whole info wrong then it's my bad). We did some work where you get your hands on grass and dirt. A little bit of sunburn expected. And maybe, sore fingers for those who weren't used to that nature of work. That took place in the mornings from Monday to Friday (except for Tuesday - no one showed up to give us work). In the afternoons, it was the kids' + teens' activity where they sang some songs, listened to stories and did some paper cutting activities with us. Night time was when Bible studies were conducted (more to the adults).

I can't make those details any shorter. I'll just say, "Thanks for reading up 'til this point." :)

Anyway, the question is, did all of that meant anything or something to us who came and stayed there for a week long?

Yes. A lot. Because by the time it was a new Sunday, all the students were teary-eyed. The parting was hard. A bond had been created. Even as I'm typing this, I'm a little moist at the eyes thinking of it. I remembered looking back as the van was climbing the hill - there a boy was at the steps, sitting, his small-framed body shaking. He was crying but I couldn't see his face because it was ducked down into his crossed arms. Another boy, as I heard it from one of the students, was all quiet and emotional himself when we were paying our last home visits and saying our goodbyes and well-wishes. The boy couldn't talk. The question, "You miss us already?" made him burst to tears (the student himself couldn't hold back the tears seeing the boy). He was given the hat owned by the student who asked him that question. Something tangible to remember the presence.

A window into our afternoon activities.





Me with the 7-year-old girl who became my student.


Most probably I'll share a little more about this whole experience in my next post(s). It meant something to me. Maybe more than just something. I'm pretty sure the rest of us who went there felt the same.

Happy Sabbath to those who have dropped by today ~