As I told you last time, I started the week counting the days that separate me from the return to civilization. So you can imagine that a week with a fair share of rain (let me translate: muddy/slippery tracks and wet clothes) was more than enough to get me lazy and even more looking forward to the end of the week.
Moreover, since the end of the year was approaching, teachers relaxed completely and missed some of their classes, and some of mine as well. So I finished the week quite tired and when they told me there would be a party on Saturday to celebrate that the end of the year was close I was quite pleased.
I was supposed to work until Tuesday, so when the party was over and some kids started telling me goodbye I thought it was just a “see you later” kind of greeting. It seemed strange that some seemed so sad and kept talking about my trip back to Spain, but it all made sense when I found out (already back home) that it was indeed my last day in the school.
So somehow I left without saying a proper goodbye to many of the kids, and the strange thing is that teachers didn’t greet me either, which for us westerners is kind of strange, to say the least. I am thus left with the strange feeling that things have ended without me noticing it, and somehow I think the feeling will remain for quite some time.
It is as though from one day to another, whole relationships have been left undone and ties have been cut, because after two months of ups and downs, I had become very attached to kids, and apparently they too. That is why, when they asked me when I would come back, it was heartbreaking for me to answer "I don't know", hiding an almost certain “Never”.
But as my favourite sentence goes, "The idea is to remain in a state of constant departure while always arriving.” So we go on, move on, depart.
No comments:
Post a Comment