A New Beginning – Part 1

It was Monday morning. I was part way through 3rd grade and had been having struggles in school with bullies. After finally standing up to them, with help from my older brother Armando and my slingshot, I walked back into the classroom at the start of the new week, hoping to finally have a peaceful day at school. (You can read the first part of this story in my posts “First Day of School” and “Finding Strength”). I sat all the way up front and opened my book to finish a little bit of homework.

The bell was a piece of railroad track that the principal would bang with a hammer for school to begin. No sooner had this happened than the teacher walked in, put her books down, and walked straight to where I was sitting. Without saying a word, she grabbed me by the ear and the hair behind my neck, and dragged me to the principal’s office. I was in great pain, she was pulling my ear so hard that I could feel shooting pain under my jaw. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. Forcing her hand off, I managed to get away and ran into the principal’s office with her right behind me.

The boy who I had shot with a slingshot the week before, was there with his mom. When I entered, they stood up and the principal took me by the shirt and shoved me into a chair. As I sat there crying and very scared, I again prayed to God to help me, but again it seemed useless. After being scolded and spanked by the principal I was sent to clean up the bathrooms which were sickeningly dirty. After that, I spent the whole afternoon with my nose to the wall in the principal’s office. As I stood there, I thought of ways to make the situation better but nothing seemed to make sense. When I tried to say something to the principal he would say he didn’t want to hear a word from me.

Finally I was sent home, some thirty minutes after everybody had left school. That night, I woke up in the middle of the night and stayed awake until daybreak thinking about school. Maybe now that the bullies were dealt with and I had paid for what I had done things would be alright. After crying for a while, and praying “Our Father” many times over, I finally fell asleep.

I got up early and washed my pants and shirt which were the only ones I had. I even took a shower and combed my hair (which didn’t happen every day). When I arrived at school, my pants where still damp. My mom had tried to dry them with the iron but it got too late so I wore them like that. The teacher seemed to be in a terrible mood and was yelling at anyone that got in her way. Sitting at her desk, she asked for everyone to turn their homework in, and of course I did not have it done because I had spent the whole day before in the principal’s office. She didn’t want to hear it, and again she let me have it with her ruler. I felt very angry as I sat at my desk trying to fight the tears while biting my lips.

I didn’t want to tell my mom because I knew it would break her heart. At that time we were going through a great financial crisis and I didn’t want to add to her stress. On the bus the next day, I didn’t get off to go to school but kept going and went around the whole loop that made up the bus route until the stop to my house came up. I could not believe I was doing this and felt like a zombie while walking home. When I saw my mom, I quickly told her that there was no school that day and she went on with her chores. Going outside, I felt a great sense of guilt, not so much for skipping school, because somehow I felt justified given the circumstances, but for lying to my mom which was plain wrong. I hated doing that.

The afternoon was long and boring. All my friends were in school and I could not get rid of the guilty feeling. After going back and forth between telling my mom the truth and not telling her, I finally decided I would wait.

The next day I didn’t get off the bus again but instead of going back home I got off the bus at the Parque Central (Central Park) which was right in the middle of the city. This became my new pattern. The Parque Central was a very interesting place and was somewhat familiar to me because my dad would take us there from time to time on the weekends. We would go to see “la fuente” (the fountain) which was in the middle of the park and was illuminated with a very nice light show that would change according to the patterns of the water. Many times we sat there eating “tostadas” and “atól de élote” (sweet hot creamy drink made out of corn). I still remember the pleasant feeling of the mist blowing over us while in the background the marimba Chapinlandia would play their concert at the “Concha Acustica” (the acoustical bowl). The “Parque Central” was such a beautiful place that many love birds went there for their Sunday dates and enjoy walking in the cool of the night listening to music and perhaps have some authentic traditional food. The popular national singers would also perform live to the delight of the Guatemalan audience. This became my new home during school hours.

To be continued in part 2…