Cometas

In Spanish, kites are called “cometas,” probably because they fly in the sky like comets, and they often have tails. But I think there’s another reason. How often do you see a comet making its glowing path through the night sky? Once in a lifetime? Twice? Maybe three times. And how do you feel when you’re blessed enough to see something so rare and beautiful? Amazed? Awed? Like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be? That’s exactly how I felt the other day when we took the kindergarten class up the mountain to fly their “cometas.”

On top of the mountain, I could see lots of kids running around, and I’m sure they were making lots of noise, but all I could hear was my pounding heart and heavy breathing. The climb up was surely no walk in the park. As I tried to catch my breath, a tiny girl with black braided pigtails and her light blue school uniform tugged my sleeve. “Volar (fly), Miss?” She held out her kite, a cheap sheet of plastic with three wooden sticks and a picture of Barbie on it. I took it, held it up high, and thrust it into the air as she ran across the hillside, her pigtails flapping in the wind. No sooner had I released her kite when I heard, “Miss, Miss, Miss!” from the left, the right, and the rear. I spent the next 30 minutes or so lifting kites into the wind, not even having time to admire them before being called by another child. I untangled strings, untied knots, and picked up kite after kite. When there was finally a lull, I got out my camera and suddenly the chorus of the children changed to “Toma foto, toma foto (take picture).” Each child would stand still, most ignoring my request for a smile, and then run over to look at themselves on the screen.

A few minutes later, it was time for lunch. I took more pictures and also opened containers of rice and bottles of milk. A little girl (Anali) sitting away from the group motioned me to come take her picture. After taking several, I sat down next to her, and she proceeded to ask me various questions. In Spanish, she asked where I was from, how I got to Peru, if I had been to the jungle, if we had tigers and parrots in America, and several other questions. She noticed that I was struggling to understand some of the words she used (I had to pull out my dictionary for “parrot”), so she decided to help me with my Spanish.

“Que color es tu cabello?” she asked (what color is your hair). Before I could answer, she mouthed, “Marrón.”

Even though I knew the word, I found her attempt to help me absolutely precious. Her friend Luis walked over, and he began to question Anali about me. She repeated my answers to all the questions she’d asked and then rattled on so fast that I couldn’t understand what they were saying. Staring at their big brown eyes, sparkling with animation, I realized that my hairdresser Tammi had been right. Before I left, she told me I’d want to adopt all of them. And I certainly did.

After lunch, the kids got their kites out again. I noticed a boy struggling to make his fly. He had a huge hat on and appeared to be the youngest of the group. “Necesitas ayuda? (do you need help)” I asked. He looked at me and then started talking…and didn’t stop. Between his lack of articulation and turbo speed Spanish, I couldn’t understand a single word. So I just looked at him instead. He was SO cute. His big brown eyes looked like Puss in Boots from Shrek. After staring for who knows how long, I realized that he had stopped talking. He had asked me a question, and I didn’t have the slightest clue what is was. I paused for a moment, as if thinking, nodded, and said, “Si.” He smiled, handed me his kite, and began unraveling ALL of string. “No, no, no.” I corrected, helping him roll it back up and telling him to stand still as I lifted the kite into the air. When the wind finally caught it, I yelled, “Corre, corre (run)!” So he ran. Straight towards me. If you know anything about kites, you know that you have to run away from them to make them fly, not towards them. It took several attempts to make him understand this concept. I take that back, I don’t think he ever understood the concept, but I at least got him to listen to me. He smiled and giggled as his kite soared through the air, all though it never stayed up for more than thirty seconds.

When it was finally time to leave, Duran wanted to keep flying his kite. I’d roll up his string, and he’d immediately unroll it again. Finally, I took the kite in one hand and his tiny fist in the other and started walking down the hill with the rest of the class. It was steep and dusty, so I had to help many of the children down the mountain. I lifted them over a huge ditch one by one, and clutched the hands of the youngest ones during the most treacherous parts. Looking back up the mountain, where another school was still flying their kites, I realized that the morning had been just as amazing as seeing a comet. The only thing that would’ve made that afternoon better would be…hmmm, I’ll let you know when I think of something.