Loie Hasler

October 23, 2015

My Best Friend is a First Grader

In the neighborhood of Nejapa, Nicaragua, life has to be flexible. Children walk around barefoot on dirt roads which can hardly even be called roads in the rainy seasons. They live on small plots of land with their entire extended family. They get up early every morning to help their parents raise chickens, corral cattle, or sell candy at the local pulperia (grocery shacks). But by 7:30 a.m., these children are buttoned into spotless uniforms and sent to walk twenty minutes to the Escuela de Carolina de Sirker, a preK through 10th grade school kept going solely through donations from the U.S. The families don’t pay a cent.

My job definition this summer in Nicaragua was supposed to be Elementary English Teacher. It quickly became obvious that my help was needed elsewhere. In addition to teaching English, I became an assistant soccer coach, library organizer, guitar stringer, marriage therapist, godmother and so much more. I learned that as a teacher, especially at a school in a rural area of the second poorest country in the Americas, the classroom provides only a small part of the opportunities to teach children. The rest you have to find yourself.