We arrived in La Cola during a tropical storm. From the moment our rickety taxi turned onto the dirt road that led to the school in La Cola, which is where we would sleep for the week, children surrounded us. They ran alongside the taxi in bare feet, clambering for a view of “los Americanos.” Once we stepped out of the taxi, they never left our sides; they constantly played games like “rock paper scissors” or braided our hair. The love that …show more content…
When I introduced myself as “profesora” (“middle school teacher” in Spanish), people hugged me, kissed me, and told me how fortunate they felt to meet me--a second-year teacher with a humble bachelor’s degree. Higher education in La Cola is scarce; many teachers only have the equivalent of a GED and feel unqualified for their professions. Most people in La Cola cannot afford higher education but desperately crave it. These people share latrines with their neighbors and bury their children who have died of the H1N1 virus, yet they value education more than many Americans