Hugs and a Fist Pound

The winter darkness outside at 7:30a and a chilly apartment turn typically chipper, morning person me into a sluggish grump the mornings I have to wake up for school. As I leave my apartment and walk to the metro, I think, I'm living in a pretty neat place...but, dang, why am I up so early? All I want is to crawl back into my warm bed and shut the black-out curtains. On the metro to my school, I squint under the fluorescent lights, attempting to read my book (in English) or watch the news (in Spanish) so I don't fall back asleep, lulled by the rocking train. Eventually, I exit the car, climb several stories of stairs, and I walk to my school. Once I'm near, I begin to hear the shouts and laughter of children. Now I know why I'm awake at the crack of dawn. Mr(s). Grinch goes away for good.

At my Monday-Tuesday school, in the south of the city, I teach preschool, 1st and 2nd grade. Mondays always begin in infantil, so whatever grogginess I feel before entering this class, brimming with wide-eyed four-year-olds, leaves at the door. Many times, I'm greeted with a collective shout of my name, "Debon!" One tiny tot will grab their chair and place it on the reading carpet and sit down right beside it, he or she smiling up at me. I carefully work my way to my seat while the children grab at my legs and reach up to touch me. Nothing like an adoring crowd to make you feel like a rock star! The child to my immediate left and right encircle my left and right leg with their arms in tree-hugger fashion. Some others leap up for a kiss before their teacher joins the circle. How can I stay grumpy? They still have downy baby hair, for goodness sake! I read them a story in my librarian's voice and sing ridiculous songs with ridiculously dramatic motions. They look at me like I'm their favorite person in the whole wide world. The girls with their braids and bows say shyly, "Tu eres guapa." I reply with a big smile, "No, YOU are beautiful!" while reaching to give their little hand a squeeze.

Afterward, I leave the preschool hall and go to the 1st and 2nd grade hall, where the kids are just as sweet, but less like babies. I teach them about photosynthesis, the parts of the body, and the water cycle. But the best part (even though I love teaching) are the hugs! As they file past me in the hall, most can't resist breaking away to give me a hard squeeze around my legs. (Remember, their heads only come up to my waist!) Some will look up with smiles and laugh while saying my name. Some are serious huggers, holding me so tight that I start to lose my balance. Some children's hugs are so sweet and memorable that I'll list them here -

Virginia - A tiny dark-haired, dark-eyed girl in the 1st grade. Her glasses magnify her eyes to where they look like saucers on her tiny face. She never speaks in class unless called on, and even then she whispers the answer to herself. Since I've learned her name (and all the other children's), when I tell her "hello" in the hall, she will break from the group and give me a strong, silent hug.

Ionut (pronounced ee-o-noot) - A platinum blond-haired boy with striking blue eyes. His head has got to be bigger than mine, but he's so short! He's the loving type with all teachers. He grins once he sees you, shouts out your name, and will hug you until he gets in trouble -- in the middle of PE, science class, or when the line has moved on down the hall. He also insists on you leaning down, so he can kiss your cheek.

Wendy - in my 2nd grade class, I always play with her beaded, braided hair. She's a little...uh...fluffy, and she always wears a puffy coat. Her hugs are like hugging a cloud, and she, too, will get in trouble for giving long hugs. She also likes to wave at me randomly in class. The first few times this happened, I was reading aloud in science class, and I mistook this gesture for a question. When I asked her, "Yes?", she just shrugged and smiled.

Alejandro- a sassy little African boy, I loved him from the start. The day we met in his 1st grade class, I sang Lady Gaga's "Alejandro" to him each time he passed by. He'd scowl at me, stick out his tongue, then later catch my eye and laugh. He can be really bad - I mean, punching, pitching a fit, or flinging insults in Spanish - but, for some reason, I find it endearing. When he's not shoving someone, pouting, or crying after being pushed back (for once), he's sneaking over to hug me.

Rebecca and Rosa - at my Wednesday-Thursday school outside of the city, I teach all grades. In the 6th grade, my oldest group, these two girls are new to the class, and have never spoken English before, putting them five years behind the rest of their classmates. They are also grownier than most (as we say in the South). They dress like they're in their 20s, and when I have conversation practice with them ("What is your name?" "Where are you from?"), they insist on asking me what I do on the weekends, what bars I go to, and how can I sing just like Lady Gaga? Despite them being 13 going on 30, they always greet me with big hugs and will stroke my hair, comment on my outfit and beg for it to be their turn to talk with me. They always pout like my preschoolers when I can't speak with them.

infantil - these preschool classes deserve their own hug category. It's always en masse, causing me to stagger and sway. 25 little faces smiling up at you, saying in Spanish "you are beautiful" and "I love you" will undoubtedly brighten your day.

1A @ La Maranosa - This 1st grade class at my country school has five little girls who always tell me, "I love you!" in English every time they see me. If I have class with them, they get in trouble for getting out of their seats to hug me at random times.

And finally...
The bad boys - I give everyone fist pounds...when they're filling past me in the hall, when I congratulate them on completing a class assignment correctly, or just because I think I'm cool. These fist pounds obviously have gotten me on the good side of the bad kids (mostly boys) because now even they break from line to hug me. Just today, one "bad" boy in the 1st grade purposefully went to the back of the line, where I was walking. He looked up at me, smiled, held out his hand, and we walked with our hands linked, arms swinging to and fro between us, the entire way to the gym.