Two weeks ago, my class of thirty traveled an hour and a half to a small Mapuche school in the country. The Mapuche Indians are natives to this region of Argentina and many maintain their traditional lifestyle, while others live on reservations. The majority of my classmates chose not to participate because of underlying tensions between the Argentinians and the Mapuches.
The school is located in the hills, surrounded by cattle raising farms. There are more chickens on campus than children. I have never seen a school like it- four rooms, a dining room, no windowpanes, and a dirt soccer field with sticks acting as goal posts.
The twenty-seven Mapuche students, grades one through seven, awaited our vans. They surrounded the flag pole that supported the old version of the Argentinian flag. As we approached the flag, they applauded. After introducing ourselves, we entered the dining room to eat breakfast. A teacher, noticing my surprise, informed me that the school provided breakfast because there is no food for the students to eat at home.
I became an instant attraction with my blond hair, pale skin, and blue eyes. The Mapuches are dark skinned, with thick black hair. I brought a map to show them where I live, and the majority, including thirteen year olds, did not know where the U.S. is located. They had never heard of New York, Harvard, or other international landmarks.
I spent my day playing with the five year old children, being a “prisoner,” having six little boys tugging my hands, jumping on my back and leading me to the chicken coop, or according to them, “la carcel” or jail. I escaped each time, because I was an “international ninja” and we would run around the school yard laughing until I was “caught,” and the adventure repeated.
After lunch, I played soccer with the older boys of ten and eleven, and they could not believe that a girl could play soccer well! I was unaware of this before my arrival to Argentina, but here it is very manly if a girl plays soccer. I know of no girl here who plays. The boys were shocked when I pulled Argentina’s signature “Maradonna” move and scored!
Before our departure, we had one final activity, and the children had been awaiting the “gift box” the entire day. My host family contributed dolls and pencils, but I did not want to give an underprivileged child another dirty toy, so I bought a small Princess pencil case and filled it with three princess pencils. When we sat in a circle around the gift box, I had two four year olds on my lap; a shy little girl named Augustina, and the “chief of police,” and center of attention, Jonas. When it was Augustina’s turn to reach into the box, she pulled out my pencil case, and I will never forget her expression. Her face lit up and her eyes sparkled until they became teary. When she settled back into my lap, she showed me her gift with great pride. She was so happy that it broke my heart, and at that moment, I knew I needed to return. I told Augustina that we should glue a picture of her face onto the case because she too is a Princess. She shared with me that she did not have a picture of herself. I took out my camera and promised, “When I return, we will glue this on.”
Our goodbyes with the students were full of hugs, kisses and smiles. The children clutched their gifts as they disappeared down the dirt road. The following day, the Mapuche students resumed classes, and asked if the principal could invite me to return. I was delighted when she contacted me. Spending time with the children has been my favorite experience and I, alone, continue to return. I assist in whatever ways I can, be it making Jonas sit still, or showing them where they live on a map. The children bring me great joy, and I will be visiting again this Tuesday for my third visit.
