My little Linda

I so believe in this apprenticeship...it is giving me access in such an intimate way to a world I would otherwise only be able to read about or view from a distance. And I'm thankful to those who support me for coming with me on this journey. These days, when I learn something or experience something, I feel a strong desire to share it here, because I really believe that we all want and need to learn together, and I feel a responsibility to share what I'm learning and experiencing.

I've talked before about what a teacher Linda is to me. She teaches me about joy and laughter, about innocence and taking in the world with wide open eyes. And she teaches me painful lessons too, about soul-breaking labor, about loneliness, and about a loss of innocence.

Lately Linda and I have been having "fun with english." She is so interested in learning english, and one day when just the two of us were home, we had the luxury of uninterrupted time to practice some words together. She wanted to know the vocabulary for some of the important words in her life, chicken, goat, donkey, cow, spoon, plate, cup, plantain, corn, and we threw in monkey too, just for good luck. Then she wanted me to teach her some songs in english, because she has been teaching me songs and prayers in kreyòl. For some dumb reason the first one that came to mind was "row row row your boat" (only later did I realize just how hard it is for Linda to make the english "r" sound....seems about as hard as it has been for me to learn the kreyòl "r" sound!). So we had "glow glow glow your boat" for a while, until, both of us in hysterics, me pinching Linda's cheeks and lips into an r shape, we got a successful "r"!

The other song I taught her was one that I learned in the Unitarian Universalist Church I used to attend in Arizona. The lyrics are super simple, and just keep repeating,

"There is more love, somewhere
There is more love, somewhere
I'm gonna keep on, til I find it
There is more love, somewhere"

After love we sang about joy, peace, hope, and life. I explained to Linda what the song was about, and then asked her what else she would like to be seeking more of in the world. She thought for a while, and then said, dyalòg. Unfortunately, I couldn't think of a one-syllable english word that would communicate what she told me she meant by that word....people listening to each other, sharing one with the other. But I found it so telling that that was what she wished to seek out in the world.

There's this other song that's been playing on the radio that has some english lyrics. They are "lonely....I am so lonely....I have nobody....to call my own." I think it's a remake of a song we've all heard (at least, the tune sounds familiar to me). Linda was humming it one morning as I was sitting by the kitchen drinking coffee, and she asked me to tell her what the words were, and to translate it for her. So I was explaining, it's someone who's feeling really sad because they feel they are all alone, and don't have anyone. And as Linda was just sweeping away, with a big smile on her face, she said, "I like that song. It's like me." And I was caught off guard for a second, and then said, "you feel like you're all alone too?" And she said yes, and my eyes just instantly filled up. And I so wanted to say, but no, you're not alone! But I realized that wouldn't have been the thing to say. And as much as I feel like I am here for her, in truth I'm not, and she knows that. It just surprised me because she is SO surrounded by people, but it doesn't escape her that she's really alone. Also made me think about the fact that she has a mother and 13 siblings (and who knows who else in the family she was born into) but because of her circumstances, she knows she's alone.

Later that same day, I was walking in the afternoon and stumbled into a big group of kids from her school, including Linda, and they all began clamoring to tell me what had happened. That Linda got in a fight with another girl, Francia. I tried to get the details...Linda had a roll of tape and was taping a notebook together,and Francia borrowed it, then wouldn't give it back, and they started fighting, and Linda took a drink of water and Francia lunged at her, so Linda attacked back and scratched at Francia's face, and her school uniform skirt was all full of blood from taking Francia's head and squeezing it between her legs. From the sounds of the story, Linda came out ahead in the fight, or so I thought. Still, I was amazed by how much rage I saw on her face, and how angry she had become. Only the next day did she show me her thumb. Somehow her thumb ended up in Francia's mouth, and Francia must have bit down with incredible force. It looked like the flesh underneath the skin layers was exposed and coming out of the large gash. I almost couldn't look at it, seeing the flesh like that. It was also swollen and looked disjointed. I was scared and wanted her to show someone who would take care of it. I wasn't sure what they would do, but I knew that if this were an injury that took place in the States, it would be stiches-worthy. I also knew that that wouldn't happen here. At least not for Linda. "It'll heal" was all I heard anyone say. I asked Linda if she had shown Madanm, because I thought she would be most likely to be compassionate. She hadn't, and she told me she didn't want to.

I wouldn't have even known how bad the thumb was injured if Linda hadn't shown it to me, because she was doing all of her regular work....cleaning meat, cooking food, jumping up and getting whatever anyone called her to do. But by the end of the night, she just looked awful. She told me that her back hurt, and that she had just done way too much work that day. Her thumb was also terribly painful. It seemed everything she did, it kept getting bumped or reinjured.

As I was lying down to go to sleep, I heard her come in and what sounded like her crying. I got up and went into her room, and she was lying on her bed, just crying. It wasn't the kind of crying that came from physical pain, though I could tell that was part of it. It was the kind of exhausted, hopeless feeling. The physical pain seemed to be the last straw, and maybe the excuse to let some of what else was there out. I just sat there with her for a while, and then asked her if she would clean it so we could put some neosporin on it and we could use my handkerchief to wrap it. To be honest, I wasn't sure any of that would help, but I wanted an excuse to touch her...to convey some of what I was feeling for her.

She got called out to do more work. She was getting shouted at with a great intensity. It seemed there were MORE people asking MORE of her. And yelling at her for not getting done what they had asked her to do. As I listened, I just lay on my bed and cried. I realized how much was in ME that wanted an excuse to come out too. I watch how she's treated day after day, and that night it just exploded. Later she came in, and I think she wasn't sure if I was asleep. When she heard me sniff a couple of times, she said, "Ka, sa ou genyen?" Cara, what's wrong? At first I said, "nothing." Then she asked again, "Ka, ou gripe?" Cara, do you have a cold? I decided I was going to take a chance and be honest. I said, "No." She asked if I was crying, and I said yes. She came and lay on my bed, and I said, it makes me sad to see you in so much pain. And it makes me sad to hear people yell at you like that. I left it at that. I needed her to know that I felt her pain, that I saw what was happening, and that even though I couldn't do a thing about it, I was on her side.

Is that what I'm supposed to do in this situation? Am I supposed to do or say more? Or less? I don't know.

She let me wrap her hand, but in the process it got jostled again, and she just burst into sobs. I just put my hand on her head, and sat with her. There was nothing I could do. When she calmed down, we went into our nightly ritual of prayer. She taught me the Our Father and Hail Mary in kreyol, and I taught her them in english, so every night we've been praying together. Those prayers no longer hold the meaning to me that they once did, but they are very important to Linda, and I love being able to share this time with her. At the end of the ritualized prayers, I did something I hadn't ever done before with her. I said a spontaneous prayer for her, asking God to take care of her, to let her know how much she is loved, and to help her to know how much joy she brings to the world in everything she does.

When we closed the prayer, I said, you know, when I was about your age, and I used to be really upset about something at night, my mom used to say, "Things always look better in the morning." Linda doesn't have a mom, or anyone who puts her heart and soul as a priority, around her. But I wanted to convey this. I knew that in the morning so much of what hurts would still be there, but somehow I wanted to share the love and comfort that only a mother can give. I love this girl more than I can stand sometimes.