A Slight Change of Plans part 4 of 8

Back inside, Eric explained that he had only been able to secure one mattress, which would go to my colleague who was seven month pregnant. I wanted to suggest that the only fair thing to do would be to cast lots to see who got the mattress, but I thought that this might not look very good in front of my students, so I let it go.

Eric explained to the students that they would have to do their best to use their backpacks and perhaps some extra t-shirts from their suitcases to make themselves comfortable. Students started to stake out their spots on the wood floor for the night. I picked a location near the sideboard. With nothing else to do, I lay down to test my spot and to see how my backpack was going to work as a pillow. Eric and I both lay on our backs and looked up into the rafters. I noticed that unlike many of the houses I had seen on our walk that had straw roofs; this house had a corrugated tin roof. I wondered if. . . . Eric interrupted my train of thought when he nudged me and point up into the rafters. By the light of the single bulb that was hanging from the ceiling, I could see a decent-sized rat scurrying across a roof beam. I thought about tapping the student next to me and pointing out our fellow resident, but decided it would be better not to.

Santi –one of Eric’s employees who was traveling with us, appeared at the front door with a large plastic bag in each had. She set them on the table and started to distribute Styrofoam containers. My first thought was “Why in the world, would this remote Indonesian village have a supply of Styrofoam takeout containers?” My second thought was “Hey, where do I get a fork?” By now it was after 7:00 p.m. and we were all famished and a little cranky. Never have fried ramen noodles tasted so good. Later, I found out that Santi –after buying all the ingredients- had cooked up our improvised dinner in a local woman’s kitchen down the road.

It was still well before 9:00, but we were all extremely tired after a full day of travel. I had just told my students to settle in for the night, when I heard a loud crack. I spun around just in time to see Santi falling through a floor board. Her right leg disappeared up to her hip. Her foot was dangling a few feet above the water below. Several people helped her out and up. She seemed to be more embarrassed than hurt. I felt bad for Santi, but I was secretly glad that it hadn’t been one of our students who had broken through. I thought about that rickety deck leading out to the outhouse and wondered if there was any way to get 18 eighth-graders to hold it for twelve hours.