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After my exhausting day at the liceo my week didn’t get any better, Friday is my day of hell. Carlos and I use any excuse to be absent. I have managed to miss two and he one. It is the day of three hours of Segundo Basico, a nightmare with any grade with them it is pure torture. The 6 boys Mauro, Nicholas, Thomas, Joaquin, Esteban and Juan are known and slightly feared throughout the school. Juanito has been moved to Quattor Basico purely because it makes Segundo Basico slightly easier.

We walked into the class to a mob of hugs and kisses and then Joaquin climbed in the cupboard, Nicholas and Joaquin escaped to the playground Mauro hit one of the girls in the face and Thomas kicked Mauro. Then Thomas and Mauro kicked a boy that was sitting on the ground the boy went hysterical and tried to kill them all and Carlos had to bodily restrain him while I dragged Joaquin out of the cupboard and sat him down. It takes minutes of cajoling and yelling to get one boy to sit and by then all the rest are up. After what had seemed like an hour at least had passed Carlos and I both looked at our watches and ten minutes had gone by.

Basically the principal has given up on this class. The new school plan is to try and teach the children who want to learn and let the boys run wild. All very well but when do you call a halt to that plan. The janitors take care of them the most as they take the boys off to clean or mop which they infinitely prefer. At one moment Nicholas calmed down a little and I gave him a picture to paint which he enjoyed, however he gave that up in order to paint one of the girls dresses instead which brought more tears.

I detest that class.

Afterwards I had to walk to Monte Grande for the weaving class which I had really been enjoying despite the too long hours. We began washing and dying the wool and all was fine, at about 6 I start clock watching as it begins to get dark and I think about the walk back to Pisco but to the most part it is an enjoyable part of the day….

..and then I woke up Saturday covered in a rash. Turns out I am allergic to some part of the process. I think it’s the mordant we use when dying the wool, as I could have inhaled the smoke. Anyway not really sure but paid a visit to the local clinic (I was pushed ahead of the queue as L’Inglese) and was given antihistamines to take.

It is now Wednesday and the rash is still their now on my hands which is incredibly inconvenient and painful. Therefore sadly I think my weaving days are over and I will have to think of a different way to help the Casa de la Cultura.

x