Back to School... Day Two
on Me Talk Pretty One Day (Malawi), 10/Dec/2008 12:15, 34 days ago
I manage to haul myself out of bed a little earlier this morning. It’s not easy, especially as I don’t care as much if I’m late today. The way I figure it, the teachers can’t exactly complain. Not after yesterday. Still, I know I would be embarrassed walking late into a packed classroom with everybody staring at me. It’s bad enough that I’m the only white kid in class; I don’t want to draw any more attention to myself.I get back on my bike and soon I’m back on the M1. The road is quieter this morning but the sky looks worse. There are clouds, dark clouds, and the air is colder. I know it will get even colder still when I reach the hills and mountains of Dedza.Before too long it starts to rain. It is only a light rain but I pull to the side of the road and search in my backpack for my rain jacket. I find it, put it on and fasten it securely. The further I travel the worse the rain seems to become. The worse the rain seems to become the colder I get.I can see a group of goats up ahead, eating the grass at the roadside. They don’t seem to mind the rain and I imagine they are quite happy. There are three of them. Just like in a children’s story there is a big goat, a medium-sized goat, and a little goat. The big goat walks out into the road and pauses. I press the button and the shrill sound of my bike’s horn fills the air and tells the big goat to move. It moves, and crosses the road. Maybe the grass is greener there, I’m not sure, it looks the same to me. I’m slowing down as I notice the medium-sized goat has lifted its head and is watching the big one. It too walks across the road in front of me and I think I am going to ride my bike straight into it. Again the horn and again the goat moves, quicker than the bigger goat and I’m glad of it because I was almost right on top of it. Then, all of a sudden, the little goat steps onto the road and I am only a few feet away. There is no time for this goat. It cannot cross just now. It has to stay where it is... It doesn’t. The little goat has seen the two bigger goats cross the road and wants to follow. It doesn’t wait. The little goat runs straight out in front of me, straight out in front of the bike. There is no time to stop, no time even tosound the horn. There is a sudden blur of brown fur and black rubber and the bike wobbles this way and that. I wobble with it and I realise that I have hit the little goat. I look behind me and there it is lying on its back in the middle of the road. I’m worried that it is dead but then its legs start to work and it rolls over and gets back up. I am too cold to stop. Too scared also. I will keep an eye out for that goat on my way home but for now I have to get to school.The rain seems to be getting harder by the minute now. Each drop stings my body as I ride into and through it. The rain seems to be getting colder too, or else it is just me that is getting colder, I don’t know. I have come too far to turn back but I know that I still have a long way to go before I reach Dedza. I carry on.It is raining harder, I am getting colder, and I am completely miserable. There is nowhere to take shelter and nothing I can do but just ride. I am beginning to hate school.Eventually, I see the turning up ahead for Dedza. There is no policeman there today and in this weather I am not surprised. I realise what it means to be soaked to the skin. I ride my bike into the playground and am only a little late. With the bad weather it looks like lots of other people are late too. One of the guys from yesterday sees how cold and wet I am and points me in the direction of the boys’ toilets. I’m not sure what to do as there are no towels and I have no spare clothes. I decide to go into the toilet and lock the door. I am dripping everywhere. I take my clothes off and wring them out into the sink. They will not be dry for hours but at least I can stop the dripping. What I cannot seem to stop, however, is my shivering. I can’t remember the last time I was this cold. I didn’t expect to be cold inMalawi. I shouldn’t be cold in this country. It isn’t right and I am becoming more angry than miserable now.I put my clothes back on and walk into the classroom for lessons. Everybody sees how wet I am but nobody says anything. I sit down and the lesson soon starts. It is boring. I am too cold to concentrate and I just want to go home. The teacher says something funny and everybody laughs but me. Nothing is funny when you are this wet. It is still raining outside and the only warmth inside comes from the bodies of my classmates. It is not enough and I sit there shivering.After a while I realise that I have stopped shivering, but I have not stopped being cold, and I have not stopped being bored. When lunchtime arrives I decide to get on my bike, and instead of just riding to a restaurant, I ride out of town and back onto the main road. The rain has stopped now but still, I am going to ditch the afternoon lessons and just ride home. It is a good decision. The sun comes out and I ride faster than I have ever ridden before. The wind, although still fairly cold, dries my clothes and I start to feel better. I am going home and I feel better. I don’t want to go back tomorrow. They all saw how cold and wet I was. If I tell them I was sick, I’m sure they’ll believe me. A sick note will do the trick. No school tomorrow.