Guatemala City, Guatemala (Part 2)
I ran just one single program back in October at Valle with only boys, so I was eager to see if we could run a session with some of Valle’s girls this time around. After all, over the years I’d always seen them not just playing, but playing well and playing with joy, always. Luckily for me, another contact at Valle – Sister Idalia, had been nice enough to set up an afternoon session right after that with los varoniles with girls from the 5o y 6o grades (fifth and sixth grade). I planned for 25 but because of catechism classes they were reduced to just under a dozen girls.
With it being the fourth session of the day for me and entering into a fifth hour of soccer on the day, I was admittedly exhausted. Thankfully, the girls, though eager and enthused, were super well behaved and respectful. They designated a captain, a tall girl named Melany, who assisted me in running our listening drill – enjoyed by both participants and our captain, alike.
Then, we broke into three small teams for relay races. Following that, I broke into a couple games of mano o cabeza to get us some prizewinners. I had something for every girl but not enough soccer balls for the dozen of them. Instead, I’d be doing an uneven mix of drawstring bags and Puma balls. Once we had grabbed five winners, I broke into our last passing drill game to get some more drawstring bag winners. New balls in hand, I showed the girls my go-to freestyle trick – the neck stall into a push-up.
“How many do you want me to do?” I asked, ball already resting gently on my neck.
“Diez!” a girl yelled out.
Diez it was, and I knocked out 10 of them before rising back to my feet. Following that, I split the group right down the middle and walked them step by step through the same trick, taking a step backwards to admire their determination and effort – seeing some of the girls even able to lower themselves down to the ground into a push up position just as I had.
As in years past, I gave each girl their choice of a new bracelet, which they quickly wrapped proudly around their wrists. Digging deep into my bag, I took out a grab bag of gifts my mom had put together to accompany the bracelets, including bookmarks and other little goodies. I chuckled and said to the girls “The truth is I don’t even know what I have in mi maleta.. it’s like a magic bag, I need only wish for something and it’ll be in there!”
The next few days I’d see the girls during recess and lunch still flaunting their new bracelets happily or playing with their brand new Puma balls too. Following that successful all-girls session on Sunday, I headed down to Valle’s garden mid-week to hang out with the younger girls, who were looking to pass some time in the open, grass field beside the garden. One girl quickly introduced herself completely in English, Sasha was her name and her accent was flawless.
“Well I lived in the USA with my father for some time,” she said, yet again in perfect English.
I was impressed! It’s not often I get a chance to speak English in Valle besides with the older girls or staff members. Another girl raised her voice, “Esteban are you only teaching the boys? Why don’t you ever teach football to the girls?”
“I never have time, but I want to!” I responded.
“Pues vamos!” she responded, as we quickly made our way down to the garden.
Unsure of how much time we had, I decided to circle the nearly 25 participants up in a big circle for mano o cabeza. We would be giving out some pulseras y pelotas, but with a group that large I certainly wouldn’t have enough for everybody. They understood the rules though and they knew exactly what was at stake. One round out of the way, I asked our winner for her name so I could give her her prize later on. “Brito?” I asked, upon hearing her surname. “Tienes una hermana? Sindy?”
“Es mi prima!” she answered with a smile, it’s not uncommon for there to be plenty of connections within the Valle family.
“My name is Petrona,” said another girl, the sister of one of the older boys, Juan Diego.
“Ah como lo (Petronas) de Harry Potter,” I said, those words falling on deaf and unfamiliar ears.
“Nice one, nerd,” I said to myself.
With two fun, yet very different all-girls sessions out of the way, I woke up the next morning to drop by gym class with the younger kids only to hear a little girl no older than five years old say something of mild concern. The kids’ profe had asked them why they weren’t playing soccer with the rest of the class.
“Pues profe, girls don’t play soccer,” she said softly.
Luckily, their teacher, a charismatic man from the Dominican Republic, quickly corrected her, saying how the game and the field can and should be shared by everyone – boy, girl, anything. A poignant lesson, especially given that it had fallen so very timely on International Women’s Day.
