Madam’s house

When I first see the four boys cautiously approaching my house, it takes me a moment to realize that these are my students. I do not recognize them without their khaki school uniforms.

It is common for students to visit their teachers. Many times to bring gifts or establish a relationship that will result in better grades at the end of the year. What they don’t know is that they entertain me as much as they are entertained by asking me about everything I’ve brought with me from America.

One enters my house carrying a stuffed bear that is as big as my neighbor who peeks his head in later to see what all the commotion is about. They ask me questions about the photos I have on my walls. They are mesmerized by my map of Benin and that the people who made the map know where their village is to include it. As almost all the kids who have stopped by my house have, the boys too find the yoga ball that another volunteer left in my house and the pack of 50 Crayola markers (more markers than they have ever seen in their life) that are on my shelf.

They stay for an hour and a half. At 3, they leave to go back to school. I wonder whom of their classmates they will tell of the wonders that await at Madam’s house and when the four will show up next.