On weekdays at 4:00 p.m., the school bell sounds, and children erupt in screams of delight. I wait for my children in the leafy schoolyard with a bright-orange collapsible wagon. Yesterday was a special day as I had arranged to give four local school kids a ride in our dinghy.
The children were ecstatic. We loaded the wagon with backpacks and walked our regular 25-minute walk to the dinghy dock. I initially used the wagon to carry our kids’ backpacks and at least one of the twins. But that has changed; other school kids also like to put their backpacks in the orange wagon. I am happy to carry their belongings.
Some of the school kids are escorted home by car or motorbike. Most kids walk, and virtually all of the kids who walk home go without their parents. Sometimes I hold my breath as kids dart in and out of traffic. Today, I watched a girl who looked to be about six years old run across the road, while ushering another student who appeared to be younger than herself.
It seems to be organized mayhem. I have seen people escort my kids across intersections. This has happened when my kids have strayed too far ahead of me.
Betty likes to do cartwheels with her friends and has to be reminded to keep her gymnastics on the sidewalk and off the street. Paul and his friends like to shake the trees after it rains and watch as people get showered upon. Karen and Henry enjoy having a piggyback with the older students.
Unfortunately, Paul was at home today with a sore back. He hauled his backpack to school earlier this week when I opted not to bring the orange wagon. He will be back at school on Monday.
Without Paul, I would be bringing seven young children in our dinghy. I brought life jackets for them and assured their grandmother that they would be safe. When we had approval from their grandmother, the kids raced to the dinghy dock.
The kids put on their life jackets, and I helped them with the straps.
We set off towards our catamaran, SV Aphrodite.
Seeing the water through the eyes of the local children was wonderful. They marvelled at the jellyfish and liked to feel the spray of the water on their hands. They spent only a short time on SV Aphrodite, but they had enough time for a pillow fight and a romp on the trampolines.
Watching our guests approach the trampolines on the front of our catamaran, they were full of trepidation. Their reaction was similar to how I might behave on the glass floor of the CN Tower in Toronto.
At first, they didn’t trust that the trampoline would hold them suspended above the water. Soon, Betty’s seven-year-old friend Lisbeth was climbing the mast and said that it was “beautiful.”
Back inside, Betty braided Lisbeth’s hair.
The kids wanted to stay. But their grandmother was expecting them at home. We had to coax them back into the dinghy using our newly learned Spanish.
When we returned to shore, Lisbeth passed me her bag to carry. She ran off with her siblings and Betty down the road.
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