Cinco Alto

During our COS conference earlier in the month, we were asked to write advice to the incoming group of volunteers, Moz 21, our replacements.  Standard advice themes like “take everything one day at a time”, “it all gets easier”, or “I promise, you will eventually be able to speak Portuguese” all seemed like advice these “newbies” would soon figure out themselves.  Without having to think much, I chose to write:

Teach the crianças (children) in your neighborhood how to high five.  No matter what type of mood you are in, it will always bring a smile to your face when, on your way to school, they approach you, hands raised, ready for their “cinco alto” (high five).

Every morning on my way to school, as I cut through the small path between my neighbor’s houses, I inevitably pass a group of 2-10 crianças.  Upon seeing me, they jump up, shout “Sara! Sara” (or sometimes “Adrianna! Adrianna!”, close enough I guess) and run over with their hands raised.  Sometimes it’s a little daunting, seeing their dirt covered palm or mysteriously wet hand coming towards me with not enough time to avoid the inevitable, but, even so, it always brings a smile to my face and I can’t help but giggle.

I have decided that they are my cross between the minions from Despicable Me and the aliens from Toy Story, speaking a language I can’t always understand and saying my name in a manner oddly similar to “the claw”. 

When one of them first sees me, I can hear them begin to whisper “Sara”, and then they begin to clap their hands and chant my name.  Is this what it’s like to be a celebrity?

Suraia, my little fabric doll, given to me last year

In thinking about my last couple of months here, I think that is what I’ll miss the most.  Not the sense of being a celebrity all the time (ok, maybe a little bit), but the crianças.  Nowhere in America can you just invite some random kids over to your house to play, never would a mother just pass her new baby to you over the fence for you to hold.  They find joy in the simplest things - I entertained a group of boys for about an hour, letting them “paint” my house with some water and paint rollers.  They make dolls from small pieces of fabric, cars from old cans and bottles, dig through trash pits to see what “toys” they can find, make houses from abandoned bricks or make their own bricks from mud, love to clean, do dishes, and sweep.  And simply giving them a quick high five every morning makes them so excited and happy.  They have definitely taught me to appreciate the simplest things in life and find happiness in those simple things.