“We can take something from these children, their positivity is infectious.”

The long dusty road stretches out before us, cluttered with zipping motorbikes, bicycles and overtaking cars. We whip past tiny street stalls, tacky Korean hotels and the skeletons of abandoned developments. Turning onto the dirt road, the tuk tuk we’re riding dodges pot holes, meandering cattle and unsuspecting villagers.

The scenery here is instantly different to the semi-urban highway. The colour green presents its full spectrum – rice plantations stretch out before us, a carpet of sustenance and survival to this community. We wave at playing children, happy in their playground of nature. Water buffalo glance nonchalantly at us and stray dogs weave in and out of our path. Suddenly we pull up: a gaggle of children greet us, we have arrived at Baray Village School!

“Hello, how are you?” I enquire to the faces beaming up at me. “I am fine thank you and you?” Is the automatic reply in unison. The school is a simple two story structure; concrete slab, columns and the one solid wall certainly give it that open air feeling. Mr. Ty, the local teacher lives in a timber dwelling above.

“What’s the time Mr. Wolf?” The children sing with preemptive excitement. “6 o’clock!” I scowl, teeth bared. Tiny feet tentatively shuffle forward 6 paces. “What’s the time Mr. Wolf?” A nervous giggle echoes. “Dinner time!” I spin and chase the screams and laughter that linger in the air.

The children here are delightful, they have nothing and yet contentment oozes from them. They can’t go for more than a minute without a smile. There are no tears or tantrums, only a thirst for knowledge, a willingness to learn.

We can take something from these children, their positivity is infectious. We fret and worry about first world problems, status anxiety and skin deep issues. These children have been born into poor families in a third world country with limited future prospects. They take nothing for granted and live each day with enthusiasm.

I receive my 20th hug for the day and launch my weary body yet content mind into the tuk tuk. ‘See you tomorrow’, I wave. ‘Sweet dreams’, echo the children as we ride into the darkness.

Jessica Dootjes