Kids

The dust kicks up a small puff of powder with each tread of my foot. The clear blue, cloudless sky leaves no hint of the massive showers soon to hit. Travis, Justin and I are hoofin' it to the river while Sarah and Chelsey ride on Bob and Pepper, our two horses. It has been exceptionally hot this year reaching into the 130's Fahrenheit and even higher in the A/C-less furnace we used to call our operating room. As the sun bakes my brain I try to desperately keep it alive with frequent sips from my camelback. After about 45 minutes we are in a groove but suddenly feel a cool gust. I look up and notice that out of nowhere behind us is now this gray, hazy area in the sky blotting out the trees and dusty terrain to the northeast.

Plip-plop. The first drops plump into the parched soil of the path. Soon we are almost shivering as a cold rain pelts us just as we arrive at the river with the pack of local boys we've picked up like groupies at a rock concert. We are famous. After all, we are "Nasara" the most interesting thing to happen in these parts in a long while for sure.

The river actually feels warm after the cold rain. The clean sandy bottom is just a couple feet under the surface and I have to lie down completely to get covered. I drift along with the surprisingly fast current till I hit a slightly deeper section. I grab a breath and dive. As all other sounds mute instantly I am made keenly aware of the gnashing of teeth sound of fish feeding and the soothing melody of raindrops on water. I wish I could stay under forever.

As I come up, I spot our groupies who have stripped down to their birthday suits and are splashing around in the shallow end. I decide to have some fun. I jump up and crash through the water chasing them as they flee in all directions, terrified of the white beast from the deep. For me it's just a game so I'm shocked when I actually catch one and he's crying and screaming his brains out with a petrified look on his deer in the headlights stare.

I grab him, throw him over my shoulder and run back to the river where I toss him in. He comes up unsure and when he realizes I'm not going to torture or eat him he hesitantly starts to smile as his comrades in arms hoot and holler from the shore.


Several minutes later, I repeat the same thing, sure this time they'll realize it's all just a game. I chase down the chaplain's son, a boy well known to me who seems to like me and has never been afraid of me before...until now. As I pound my barefeet up the bank and through the ruts leading down to the river I find myself gaining on him easily. Just as I'm about to catch him, he rounds a small bush and does a face plant as his feet slip on the wet clay. Before I can laugh I follow him in a crash landing slide into home reaching out at the last minute to tag the plate by grabbing his leg.

As I stand up I am shocked to hear him shrieking in terror. "Je ne veux pas!!! Je ne veus pas!!! I don't want to..." I'm shocked. I try to calm him down. I definitely let go of him and try to tell him I'm not going to do anything and to stop screaming. He completely ignores me. Anyone within a mile must be sure that someone is torturing and killing something as he squeals like a stuck pig.

He is clutching desperately to a clump of grass as I back away. He won't let go even as I return to the river to wash off.

It's another brutal reminder of the differences in culture as I can only reason that here boys aren't used to rough-housing or playing with adults. In fact, about the only contact they have with an adult is if he is going to beat them or punish them in some way. So even though I've never given him a reason not to trust me and he just saw that I was just playing with his friend, he was sure something horrible was about to happen to him.

I weep for the kids of this country who are so often abandoned and neglected and left to fend for themselves even for the food they eat and grow up learning not to trust and that fear is the only way to interact with others.