I wake up to my alarm at 5:30, and get on the Internet for about 30 minutes while it is free or read a little before getting out of my sleeping bag and braving the cold air. By six o’clock I finally get up, fix myself a bowl of Rice Krispies, and work on the puzzle while I eat. While I eat I can hear the roosters crowing. I put on my professional teacher clothes and Chacos, stow a pair of dress shoes in my backpack, and bag a pb&j sandwich, a Clementine, and my water bottle for lunch. I collect the school things I need that have been scattered throughout the house during the course of the previous day, put away my computer, grab my jacket, remember something I’ve forgotten, then unlock all the doors, set the security alarm, and leave, locking all the doors behind me. I wait a few minutes for Mary in the yard while I hear her setting her alarm and locking up next door.
We walk down the sand street, turn at the corner, go past the pharmacy, and turn to the school. We pass a few neighbors and learners going on their way, and say, “Good morning,” and “How are you?” to which the responses are always, “Good morning,” “Fine, and how are you?” We manage to make it to school without getting run over by cars and taxis that honk at us every time they pass. Mary finishes her breakfast as we walk and discards the orange peels, eggshells, or apple cores as we go. There are a few dogs wandering around the streets and chickens clucking in people’s yards.