baskettari Friends, a post of his Scropy public, voluntary CVCS of Gorizia in Bolivia, based on his blog ( http://www.scropy.blogspot . com / ):
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
orange ball
Community Chocorosi ... I start to write, and I would like, what happened to me today, but almond-shaped eyes of the girl sitting in front of me I eat. One year, maybe a little more, sitting on the lap of mother asleep on the seat in front of me. I just collected his hat fell in the hall, too far because his hands can arrivarvi.Sono bus or as they call them here, fleet, returning to La Paz under a leaden sky that promises the arrival of the rainy season, clouds hide Nevado Illimani, Huayna Potosi and the Nevado Llampu, leaving see the giant Andean here only the Chacaltaya and Mururata.Ma back to the opening scene. Chocorosi community, I said, before the interruption of the eyes. About an hour's bike on a dirt road from Calamarca. Roads and trails that stretch between 4,000 and 4,300 meters in the capital of Chocorosi. Way I'm going from one week to bring teachers questionnaires for the evaluation of environmental education courses conducted during the school year, at this moment to his natural conclusione.È the fourth school that together with Karina, my colleague from Oruro, we visit this morning. A professor, a single class, with children from first to third grade. While the teacher begins to answer the questions, the kids have eyes only for the two strangers, and for me, the more foreign, in particular. As always, in the first instants eyes follow me speechless and almost terrified. Then, in a moment, break loose: begin to cry, someone comes out of the classroom, while the more adventurous, two girls in this case, they start smiling at me as I begin to get a contact asking names tutti.Una scene already tried several times to show me the books and find the pages where they have dealt with environmental education. But not to leave the impression of a dumb foreigner, dusty and too serio.Questa time, however, something happens. Within the children who had left, taking with him two balls, a soccer ball and a mangy orange basketball. See it brings me back to my Italian life, with a flashback worthy of the cinema. Because there is too much confusion, the professor takes possession of the soccer ball, but ends up a basketball in my ball-handling exercises mani.Due, embarrassed by the long past and a windproof jacket, doing a little 'the clown . The ball distracted me completely from work. And immediately to mind when I was a fly ball to the child, and encourage crowds and smiles in various gyms of Monfalcone. And smiles are the same, but the dream of basketball to teach them to stop there, at 4,300 meters. No way, children have the magic power of catturarmi.Niente to do, it starts, there are still two schools, and the sky are pioggia.Ormai threat to El Alto and the city opens below me.Ma, back in office and confessed to Anna and Ivan that I would stop just happy to fill those smiles and eyes.
# posted by @ 6:20 PM scropy
Ah, the magic of orange ball ...
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