What happened?

Becoming a teacher

Amy

So, this is it right? I came to a poor village in South Africa, not knowing where I am from or what happened. I was so sad for the first months... I tried to remember so hard. Like I said, I even forgot my sisters. But soon I accepted it. I noticed that I would have to go through this if I want to get back to my life.

First of all, the poor life seemed new to me... I was educated and I was totally not used to that life. I was so confused. But at least they spoke English...

Well, after a few months of learning how to feed a family when you don't have any money, I was dramatically asked to help a family from around to heal their children. They were sick. They thought that I'm able to help them. I saw the family crying and praying. That was so painful... I stayed up for a couple nights and tried my best to help the kids... but, after a few days, the little boy died. It hit me so hard and I even tried more to be there for his sister which was still alive. I gave my best and she survived. The girl was older than the boy. And when she got healthy, she noticed her little brother was gone. She cried alot. I didn't know why, but I had the feeling I have to help her, because I thought I could relate to her. Was it a sign? Did I loose someone really important to me? Did I forget about something really important?

'Don't be sad, he's on a better place now.' I said and hugged her.

'Where?' she asked and I really wondered about this question. She never learned about...life.

After a few weeks, more and more kids came up to me and asked me things which are basic for me, like 'Why is it dark at night and I have to be scared then?'. A few also asked me to tell them stories or to read something for them. So, after a while, I noticed that I could actually help them. I could teach them reading and tell them things about life. What is happening in the world and who and what they are.

Already the first day, they all came up to me. Around ten kids. Age 5 up to 15 ot 16. I tried to explain things through stories. Like fairytales and legends. And they told me African legens and we all had so much fun, we prayed, cried and we all had so many experience.

One boy age 11 told us that his dad died, because some stranger killed him. He had no emotions. It was terrible to see that he didn't show any facial expressions.

Another boy age 16 cried his eyes out, because both of his parents died during winter.

But on the other side, they made each other happy, like a girl age 7 told us that she got to ride an elephant once, because her uncle raised an elephant baby once. But the elephant was shot when she was 5. Elephants meant still alot to her.

We kinda drifted away from the actual topic. Learning. But all the kids had something to tell and they started to trust each other. It was wonderful to see stuff like that.

I did that everyday for 1 hour in the late afternoon. All the children were SO happy. To work with the kids made me think of something. The strong thought of missing someone.

Every time we sat there together, the feeling got stronger. It was bothering me alot. I had sleepless nights and sometimes it made me cry.

Whatever happened to me... Someone important was missing and probably needed my help.