Almost all of my students have captured a piece of my heart in one way or another. One of my favorite kids is a 6th former named Murad. He's a sweet kid, eager to learn, and just full of life. His ears stick out a little and he has a slight stutter, both of which make him all that more endearing.
Last year, I became fairly certain that Murad had a crush on me. He was always eager to please Miss Jane. He would walk me home from school and bring me fruit and flowers from his garden. I have to be honest, I kinda love it. I mean, how cute is it to be the object of a schoolboy crush?
As this year began, it was pretty obvious that the crush was still there. He's turned into a 6th grade boy - showing off a little, doing the little things in class that are kind of misbehavior, but are guaranteed to make me and my counterpart laugh. He is my most dedicated conversation club attendee. No flowers this year, but he did bring me a bag of chips and some candy.
A few weeks ago, the father of one of the girls in Murad's class returned from a religious trip to Iraq. She brought everyone gifts from the trip. The gift she gave me was one of the stones that gets placed on the floor so that your head doesn't touch the ground when you pray and some really pretty cloths to put the stone on. Always trying to turn eveything into an English lesson, I asked questions. My counterpart and the kids answered them - mostly in English.
I have never talked about my own religious beliefs with Azerbaijanis. It's kinda frowned on, and more importantly, its not why I'm here. But the assumption is that because I am American, I am Christian. I'm ok with that, but I do often wonder how my Jewish PCV friends feel about it.
Anyway. As we were talking about the gift and the students were answering my questions about what it was used for, how to care for it, etc, Murad asked my counterpart - in Azeri - if I was Muslim. She told him - also in Azeri - no, Miss Jane is Christian. At point, Murad VERY dramatically pretends to sob and cry at the calamity of me being a - gasp - Christian.
And in that one moment, my luster diminished in his eyes. Oh sure, he still likes me. He still shows off for me, but not as much. Since then, he's even skipped a few conversations clubs. And the pure joy in his eyes when he gazes upon me has faded. And I am no longer the amazing and wonderful Miss Jane, glorious object of desire. I'm just kinda cool fun Miss Jane, who is heartbreakingly Christian.
Oh, sure, the earth still spins on its axis, the world will not come to an end. But for me, a little bit of the joy in life has gone, and it can never be recovered. Sigh.
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2 comments:
there is still hope.
one can always 'convert'...and it might be a wise life choice, if for no other reason than to ensure the steady flow of chips/candy/flowers/fruit/knick-knacks-after all its not like we get enough money to fully pimp out our pads with the REQUIRED amount of plastic dog/dove/cat/horse/bird statues anyway.
Very good!!!! Enjoyed this story.
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