"The thing about chaos, is that while it disturbs us, it too, forces our hearts to roar in a way we secretly find magnificent."
-- Christopher Poindexter
Whenever I think about my school -- nay, Colombia, this is often a perfect quote.
This, and a quote from the Batman movie that Natasha once ingeniously pulled out while we were in a particularly crazy cab, cruising the always-crazy main avenue of Cartagena (think motorcycles weaving in and out of traffic on all sides, men and women carrying large boxes of fresh fish, fruit, mops -- yes, mops, and any other commodity you could possibly think of, sweltering heat, honking horns, buses nearly colliding with each other, men hopping on and off of said buses and yelling their destinations, people selling energy drinks to drivers as they are stopped, and ladies juggling with fire at intersections):
"You are a visitor to the darkness, but I was born in it."
The Batman quote was a response to my question about how anyone could possibly be a sane cab driver in Cartagena. It rang so true. Most people in Cartagena don't bat an eye at the chaos that surrounds them, but I was a visitor.
Even aside from the busy streets though, the perfect word to describe Cartagena is chaotic.
The grocery store is sometimes so full that I have to sidestep through an entire aisle, and at small tiendas the only way you are attended to is to fight your way to the front and firmly say, BUENAS! to make your presence known. Most of the time I try two or three atms before I find one that works. Many of the old buses don't have designated stops -- you just have to flag it down to get on, and then yell, PARADA! to get off. Essentially, there just isn't much of an "official" way of doing things hardly anywhere in Cartagena, and the result is a fair bit of chaos.
My life at school is similarly a hot (literally) mess. I sometimes come to school having no idea that there was an event planned, and many other teachers don't know either. Meanwhile, students run, dance, jump on each other, sit on each other's laps, laugh with their heads completely thrown back. Sometimes, not enough teachers come to school, and one class of students is in complete disorder. Or a sudden rain starts falling hard and floods the open-air pathway between classrooms and students literally scream at the sound of thunder. Basically any moment of joy, of sadness, of excitement, even of stress -- in the classroom, it's all magnified, and the result is noise and movement and confusion.
It's chaos.
But wow. There was no way I could have known how sweet chaos could be.
Chaos has been good for me, in many ways. It has taught me to be more assertive, to speak up if I need something. It has given me the opportunity to practice a level of inner zen that I never thought possible. It has helped me learn skills like management and prioritizing.
And at school, it has weirdly helped me focus.
In the midst of chaos, I have often found my students and fellow teachers completely lost in the present. With so much noise around them, it is safe to simply be themselves.
I know I talk a good deal about the joy that my students bring to school. It has been tough to describe, but chaos is a part of it. Their unfettered excitement, the immediate surrender to emotion as they bound and sing the moment they feel like it -- it's so liberating. I feel a part of their happiness, even if I'm only watching.
Last Thursday, there were a lot of goodbyes and a lot of tears at my school. It was the last day that I would have all of my classes together, before the Carnival festivities of the next week and the makeup days for struggling students after.
I wrote my students a note in Spanish, and I went to each class to read it aloud. Here is what it said in English:
Dear students,
I am not sure of what I could say that would accurately describe how thankful I am to have landed in a place like Bertha Gedeon de Baladi.
I guess I can only say that because of you, I am returning to the United States as a different person. To every single student -- you have probably taught me more this year than I have you. Each of you has touched me in a different way. All of you are so dear to me. Every day that I come to school, I feel re-energized by your smiles and inspired by your love for each other and your incredible attitudes. You are all so young and so full of life -- please don't ever lose that!
There are many great things about the United States, but one thing I don't miss is the culture being so focused on time and money. I believe that in Colombia, the culture is more focused on the things that truly matter -- family, love, happiness, enjoying the present. These are beautiful things that Colombia will one day show the world. Your country is incredible, and you should all be very proud to call yourselves Colombians. It is the most open, dedicated and resilient place that I have ever visited.
I may not be here in person next year, but I will always be thinking of you. You have all taught me that it is possible to love with no limits and to live each day with a full heart. For that I can never repay you.
If you ever find yourselves in Colorado, please come and find me! I will be waiting for you.
There was happy crying, and songs and cake and poems from students. They are all incredible people.
There was watching of a slide show and, of course, singing.
But my favorite moments were always those when something was said or done, and the students erupted into fits of noise, be it laughter or dancing or shouting. I could feel myself smiling inside and out, welcoming a new wave of joyous, colorful chaos.
In a word, my year in Colombia certainly has been chaos. But, as said in my now-favorite quote: it has also been magnificent.
