Baby, We’re Going Somewhere

Today we leave for Monrovia!  Oh I’m excited!  Oh I’m tired!

Prom was yesterday.  It was a disaster.  Finally at 11:00 I had been there five hours and we weren’t making much progress… so I said I was sorry and left without even giving my speech.  I hadn’t packed and hadn’t planned to stay past 9:00, about the time they started.  Walking home alone that late was on the list of things I’d be happy to leave Liberia without doing, but it was ok.  Prince was horrified and insisted on carrying me or sending George but I couldn’t let them miss their dance and their graduation because of me.  I gave him my best “I’m your teacher” face and he shook his head but didn’t protest further.

I crawled under the covers around 4:00.  Yep, I’m planning to crash all week.  I haven’t pulled two almost all nighters in one week, well, ever before.  But it’s worth it for my kids.

I’d gone to campus earlier in the day and spent time with them while they were cooking and practicing their dances so I didn’t feel too guilty leaving.  Besides, they were getting drunk and nothing had happened except fighting with the DJ for over an hour.  Saye Z. put some music on his phone and held it up while about five of us danced in a circle.  Success I guess.

“Ms. RB,” he said, “this program is disgraceful.  Who is their sponsor?”  I pointed to myself.  “But… but… you’re our sponsor!”  I just nodded.  “Ohhhh no!” he laughed and shook my shoulders.

Sorry yeah.

The one really cute thing that happened before the machine spoiled was the passing of will.  All the senior ministers in student government stood up and called up their replacements.  They talked about what they accomplished during their term then turned to the new appointee, “So now I pass my will to you.  May you accomplish everything I did and even more.”  I could have cried as George, in a fleece vest and stocking hat pulled down to his eyes, screamed into the microphone rapper style and basically knighted Newton, Lee, and a group of about five others.  It was a drunken pep rally for education: awesome.

I smiled remembering the conversation I had with him and Festus on my porch the day before.  We were talking about Costa Rica and their future next year.  “Georgie, my peking,” Festus said, “You can’t deuce WAEC and deuce our class to go back and sit down in Gbonnie.  We are going somewhere.”  Oh, my boys, I will do everything in my limited power to make sure you get all that you deserve and more.  I told them that.  I told them whatever happened we would keep working and we would keep trying.

And we will.