This is Mei Mei

Three and a half years ago I came to Guatemala and taught a little boy called Bryan. Bryan was six years old and one of the quietest children I had ever met. Too quiet for a child. He was in third grade, a high level for a six year old. But that was because Bryan was clever.

He would come into school everyday and sit at my desk. He was so timid, so lacking in self-confidence he wasn’t even able to sit with his peers, his equals. He would quietly walk to the front of the room and climb into my lap or sit waiting there for me. He would help me with the register, with the books but he wouldn’t sit on his own. He was too scared. He would make me carry him around the room, he wouldn’t answer questions out loud, just in my ear. He wouldn’t play with the others at break time; he would sit and read with me.

Whenever I think back to my time as a volunteer his face is in the forefront of my mind. That boy has stayed with me for three and a half years. Those beautiful brown eyes, that cheeky smile, that reason to come back again.

I have forgotten his background now but I can’t begin to think what made him so timid, so lacking in self-confidence. Such a clever, cute boy. He worked when he wasn’t at school I remember that. This tiny, developing child was sent out to the fields to work long hours with no food and no break from the burning heat. I have no idea what else made him so quiet, I can only imagine.

When I came back I knew I would see some of the kids I had taught before. I hoped to see them, they would be older, they would be developed, they would be young adults. But I hadn’t prepared myself for it.

The moment I saw Bryan, the moment I saw those beautiful brown eyes, that cheeky smile, that reason. I was paralysed. The class in front of me didn’t matter, for that moment all that I could focus on was Bryan. This timid, six year old boy who hung round my neck was now bounding past me, shouting ‘hola seno’ as he ran back to his friends. Now a ten year old with so much confidence, his hair was cut shorter, he had grown to his true height. I watched as this young adult bounded back to class, still paralysed I mustered all my energy to stretch my neck round the corner of his classroom to see him run in and sit down at his desk,next to his peers, as an equal.

I was blown away by that moment, seeing those eyes, that cheeky smile, that reason. I’ll never forget it. I’ll never forget that GVI did that.

My name is Gustavo, I’m six years old and I live in Guatemala. It’s five am and I have to go to work. I’m tired as my baby sister, Karla, was crying all night and as I sleep in the same bed as her, my parents and older brothers I didn’t get any sleep. My father was a bit drunk and upset last night so my ribs hurt; they felt better last week. I deserved it though as I was tired yesterday and woke up late. I go straight to work as I only have one set of clothing and I sleep in that. GVI school starts at 9am but I have to work first and then again after school. My father says I have to work early as I waste time in school all day. If I don’t work I am worthless to my father.

So I get on the horse with my father and head to the fields. I feel hungry as I haven’t eaten since GVI school yesterday, the food we produce is to send to other countries, not for us as we get more money then. Just before nine I come back and head to GVI school. On the way I meet up with Eduardo and Jorge who are my friends. I met them at GVI school.

I can hardly concentrate as I am so hungry but I get Atol (porridge) when I arrive at GVI school and after thirty minutes I don’t feel hungry anymore.

I find it so hard to concentrate at school as I am tired from working and sometimes still hungry. Today I am also nervous as I have to pick up the results of my Guatemalan school exams. GVI pays for me to go to school as I can get qualifications but I don’t learn anything. The classes are overcrowded so I just copy from a book all day. I am different as I am indigenous. My teacher tells me I am different. She treats me differently. She ignores me.

At GVI school my teacher is friendly. She smiles and hugs me. She tells me I am good, I am clever, I am starting to think I am too.

At my Guatemalan school I am nobody but at GVI school my teacher thinks its fun to spend time with me, to teach me, to play with me. I have friends here, friends like me, who like me. It’s fun here.

I really studied for my exams. It’s hard as I am busy working until late and then my sister needs help and my father is angry. I have nowhere to study as there is only one room in my house. My GVI teacher has helped me though.

I have my results now. I thought I was clever. I thought I had done well. My teacher tells me that it is because I am Indigenous. She says my results will always be lower even if I answer everything correct. I don’t understand what is wrong with me. Why I am treated so differently.

It’s OK though, I have my GVI school, my GVI teacher, she thinks I am special, she thinks I am clever. She tells me every day. She thinks I can become a doctor, a teacher, whatever I want. I am starting to think I can too.

Three years ago I went to Central America to volunteer as a teacher in a charity school called the Phoenix project. I had the time of my life and have decided to go back a second time.

I made the decision a while ago to leave my job at WRVS and take a 90% pay cut to move back to Guatemala and head up the English language programme in San Andreas Itzapa and Santa Maria for a year. After that? I have no idea.

To get there I needed to raise £5,000 (for the full two and a half years) to help cover my costs. I did this by bag packing, begging lots of big companies for money, selling everything I own and saving. With only a backpack and a few boxes left to show for 27 years, £1,400 still to find and two weeks before my flight I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to hit that target.

But, I hadn’t expected such generous family and friends to come to my leaving parties. In the last two weeks I have managed to raise over £1,400, surpassing my target and ending up with around £5,500. Thanks to your generosity, your kindness, your charitable nature, I will be able to live in Central America, buy lots of things for the schools and the kids and enjoy the time I have for two and a half years. Anyone would think you were trying to get rid of me – thank you.

People have asked me what I will miss, what luxuries I am taking with me. I know I will miss my friends and family like hell and Oxford – I loved living there and hope to again. But I have photos and memories to remind me of them. I’m not sure what materialistic things I will miss, perhaps a fluffy towel but I hope to buy one when I get there. However, if I can go on what I have been asked to bring with me it must be chocolate (Cadbury’s of course), tea and Irn Bru. So when you all visit please remember those three items and you will be sure to make friends.

So what am I doing now? I am watching Slumdog Millionaire with my parents counting down the final ten hours or so until I fly. I hope you find this blog interesting – if you do leave a comment. I will certainly find it a fascinating, exciting and eye opening year. Will it change me? It already has.

I haven’t left yet! I’ll be flying on 19th September so I am just getting myself ready for the big trip at the moment.