The Best Medicine

It's no secret - we work hard here at TYO. We spend our days oscillating between grownups and kids. We play freeze tag with 8-year-olds and then head inside to submit our weekly attendance spreadsheets and progress reports. We plan for hours, sometimes days, for an in-class activity and emerge from the office with pink crepe paper accidentally glued to our eyebrows. It's a curious life in which we have to think like children and plan like adults. It can be overwhelming, which is where the kids serendipitously come in. In the wise words of Buddy the Elf - I just like smiling; smiling's my favorite. And nothing inspires more smiles than our sometimes sweet, sometimes infuriating, sometimes hilarious, always awesome kids. Cate recently had an interesting run-in with a water balloon. Samin banters with her kids about John Cena - American pro-wrestler and local kid idol. She's even learned his signature motion, a stern look and rapid wave of the hand over the face - quite the intimidation technique from the always jovial Samin. And while communicating through the language barrier is always a challenge, we've found that a silly  joke or some good-natured teasing translates quite nicely.

I discovered the 'humor bridge' during a particularly toasty Sports Day outside with the kids. I was still a little anxious - it was only our second week on the job - and my mind was flooded with deadlines, logistics, and dozens of new names to memorize. As I stood in front of the kids, asking them to line up for the busses ("Sufoo! Sufoo!") our adorable little bespectacled Nirmin ran up to me with a purple flower in her outstretched hand.

I was touched. I thanked her for the gift and, looking helplessly at my notebook in one hand and water in the other, placed the flower behind my ear. The other kids noticed my reaction, and soon I was an alarmed island in a sea of purple flowers clenched in cute little 8-year-old hands. I panicked - I couldn't hold all of them in my hands but I certainly didn't want to drop them. In a flash of ingenuity (or insanity) I began placing them at various locations on my head.

Very soon, I looked like an Amy-tree. Purple flowers sprouted from the back of my head, spilled over the corners of my ears and dipped precariously over my forehead. It was spontaneous. It was absurd. It was, apparently, hilarious.

I got a smile from even the most stoic of kids. A few of the adults regarded me with a sort of detached pity, but eventually cracked a smile. Some of the volunteers whom I hadn't yet met giggled and lined up to take pictures. The anxiety melted away. I remembered why laughing - even if it's at myself - is my absolute favorite pastime.

So I guess we don't always have to choose between acting like adults or playing like kids. Sometimes we're just a big group of humans, laughing at a girl who may or may not have bugs in her hair.