Reevaluating Reality

This weekend Tiraque will be in fiestas. We have been practicing the Kullawauda for weeks, which is a dance that all of us from the Colegio (school) will do in the streets for like 5 hours on Friday, and a couple hours on Saturday and Sunday. More on that and photos later on.

Anyway, I was walking home from practice one evening last week with two little girls hand-in-hand beside me. Consuela (my biggest fan) was one, and I don't know the other's name. Just before we reached the main plaza, I heard a very deep and angry voice yell towards us. The second little girl dropped my hand and ran. Consuela then said "Su papita es mal."......"Her dad is bad," and then proceded to tell me how much the girl's father beats her. Usually when he is drunk, but not always. It is the only life the little girl has ever known, and sadly, it is normal for her. As Consuela told me the stories, I bent down to pick her up, feeling the need to carry her and hug her. She told the stories in a matter of fact way, because sadly, these stories were normal for her, too. Luckily she has a wonderful father, she said, who loves her very much, but the frankness with which she told of her friend getting beat indicated how such behavior is normal here. I then realized that she didn't need me to hold her or hug her like I had thought, but it was I who needed her to hug me.

I know that domestic violence is a problem in the US, too, but I have never experienced it or seen it, especially not in the street right in front of me. I am thankful for Consuela and the lessons she teaches me about love, and I pray for the other little girl, that she may experience love and mercy as well.