My Delinquent

Well, for those that were bored we finally got the absurd potluck stuff out of the way. I figured that smaller, bite-sized portions you could read in five minutes during your coffee break was a better than dropping a six-thousand word missive that would cause from missing pretty much an hour of your life you'd never get back. And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming.

(As an aside, I write the stories, put them online, but never actually look to see how the webpage looks. Glancing through the other day I saw that for some reason there are constant changes in font, size, and weird things like that. I'll try to get better about knowing why those things happen.)

Once again, my favorite family here has been up to their old tricks again, thus providing more fodder for ridiculous chicanery. This time it once again involves school. First, lets talk about Dorcas. Yes. Cute, adorable, lovable, huggable, squeezable Dorcas got involved in ridiculous chicanery.

Dorcas is starting first grade and is in store for what many would consider to be a rude awakening. First grade is the age here in which the children must start partaking in some of the duties around the house. There are not many tasks because we still want her to be a kid and not think that the fun died and life has started. For Dorcas, she is responsible to empty the dustbins in the girls dorm and several times a week sweep the dining hall after lunch.

When we told Dorcas she'd have to start cleaning the cafeteria, her response was a cute and bubbly, "No, I don't think I have to yet." She doesn't exactly have a diva complex, but as the youngest and cutest member of the orphanage, she is used to being the center of attention and having nothing but love showered on her. Before she came, the former youngest and cutest girl was the same way. It's a family dynamic thing.

However, after several days of this cutely refusing, it was decided to make her wait for breakfast until she emptied the dustbins. Her response was just as bubbly, "OK. I'll get my breakfast from Marta." Ahhh, the classic I'll-get-it-from-the-other-parent routine. This was going to be good. When Marta told her she could get breakfast after emptying the dustbin (which is a gallon-sized paint can, not exactly capital punishment), her reaction would be akin to if you told her Santa Claus was fake, her birthday presents all got stolen, and Buddy the family dog met a lady dog and moved away and no he isn't coming back and no you can't ever see him again. It was as if everything came crashing down all at once.

She started dumping the dustbin, but the attitude remains. And about a week ago she came to tell me that her teacher says Dorcas isn't allowed to study anymore.

Sometimes a kid will be told to not come to school until a parent can have a powwow with the teacher because of some disciplinary issues. But usually this doesn't start until a kid has reached at least fourth or fifth grade (or has an age where they can be held somewhat accountable to themselves). I started asking around, and it turns out that the teacher took attendance one day (this is not a daily thing, and certainly not with 60 kids in a classroom) and told Dorcas that her name did not appear on the chart, and therefore she must not be enrolled properly.

This confused me as I not only personally registered her, but took her to school for three days straight, found her teacher, and showed her to her classroom, a cashew tree. A cashew tree that conveniently happened to be adjacent to her older brother Jose's cashew tree.

School here starts every year with probably about half of the prospective first graders actually registered to start school. The other half show up with bewildered parents on the first day and wonder why their children—these children live in a country with no national identity database nor the ability to accurately track addresses or population levels* and where people often apply for a birth certificate only after learning one is needed to start school—a child is not automatically enrolled to start school.

*The national government contends that the population is still 22 million because five years ago in the census they counted that many people. It's probably closer to 25 million based on their own growth estimates.

This particular school also has a penchant for losing records. I went and the end of last school year to pick up transcripts for several of the kids for our records at the orphanage. I told them what class they were in and what teacher they had. When the army of office workers started looking for that particular file, they searched in vain for about five minutes before giving up and announcing that about half fifth graders had disappeared. The vice-principal then shrugged and looked at me resignedly while she said, "What are their names and what grades would you like them to have?"

So, it being entirely possible that the school had lost Dorcas papers and made a new class roster, I asked Dorcas to relate to me exactly what her teacher said. Dorcas relayed that Miss Ida had said her name is not on the class list and she wouldn't be allowed to show up because she's not registered for school. I confirmed with her that this is exactly what Miss Ida had said. She confirmed it. I then asked the other kids here which classroom Dorcas studied in. They said it was classroom A. Her school has exactly 6 classrooms, numbered 1, 2, 3, A, B, and C.

Dorcas is supposed to study under the cashew tree next to Jose and is with Miss Luisa, not Miss Ida.

I asked Dorcas, my patience long spent trying to figure out what was happening, why she is studying in Room 1 instead of her tree. She smugly stated, "I don't want to study under a tree. I want to study in a classroom, the nice one." Miss Ida, assuming that Dorcas had recently registered for school, let her stay on and then a month later, getting an updated classroom roster, discovered Dorcas was not in her class.

Dorcas is now back sitting on the dirt, getting lessons with Miss Luisa under the cashew tree adjacent to her brother Jose's cashew tree. All is right with the world.

Except for her brother Jordao...