Co-curriculum Art Classes
In this poem, Jacaranda Foundation executive director Luc Deschamps describes what afternoons look like for children at Jacaranda School for Orphans – when school is over and co-curriculum art classes begin…
Hands in his pockets
he strolls around the yard of Jacaranda School
how old is he, six, seven?
eyes wide open
he whistles a tune of pure bliss
school is over
for today
he jumps on one foot, sprints towards the basketball court, dribbles among the giants, tries to kick the ball, falls, laughs, runs towards the new library
Kondwani,
his friends whisper, gathered around a large, colorful book
look at this, a castle filled with funny animals
who speak many languages
he waves, smiles
and hop he goes
up the stairs to the dance studio
Behind the door he hears a soft, wandering tune
quickly he comes in and sits in a corner
boys and girls, arms curved in the air, sweep across the smooth floor
together as one
doubled up in the mirrors that cover the walls
so beautiful, he thinks
how do they do that
and hop he runs down the stairs
passes the chess and the ping pong tables
where there is fierce competition
He hears singing
coming from the hall
enters through the back door
watches the choir rehearsal
baritone tenor alto and soprano
he loves the bass, opens his mouth
wide
forces his voice
nothing much comes out
he laughs and hop he runs
climbs up the big staircase that leads to
the sewing room
where there’s always radio playing
as if tailors tapped the rhythm
with their needles
feet on pedals
two of his friends are here, learning
how to sew masks, uniforms
how to knit wool caps, just like the one
he wears, grey and purple, so comfortable
thank you
he thinks
and hop he goes
check out what’s up
in the art room
but oh
he gasps
what’s wrong with her
the teenage girl with a large wound
round and bloody
on her elbow
children gather
around her
is she ok
he goes nearer
It’s just make-up
a boy mocks him
special effects for movie roles
bye bye you fool
he runs away
The music room is quiet today
it’s unusual, let’s have a look
five children stand in a circle
each one holding a violin
no hands needed says the teacher
his violin under his chin
head and shoulder will balance it
and set you free to move at will
the children nod and carefully
keep on trying and practicing
first time, he thinks
that I’m hearing
the sound
of
silence
He walks away and sits
under the Jacaranda tree
where children play chess
with large wooden queens
Come and see
his friends yell, wave at him
so he gets up and sprints
until he reaches the old garage
where the children learn art and craft
cans are lined up on the table
filled with white sand from the lake shore
red soil from the hills
ash powder
crushed rocks, green, blue, turquoise
and brown clay
just take a pinch, his friends show him
mix it with glue - and with the brush
or your finger
you can compose on the canvas
Later
on his way home
Kondwani stops here
there
to collect
small stones
a handful of soil
dry leaves
chicken feathers
Grandma, he says when he arrives
I have learnt something new
at school
She smiles
while cutting vegetables near the three-stone fire
if you would like
she says, after listening to him
together we will paint part of our front wall
a long long time ago
we used to do just that
there in the country side
with soil and mud, using our hands
The little boy looks deep into her eyes
and smiles
oh grandma
that will be so much fun
he puts his little hand
in her hand all wrinkled
he lies his head down
on her chitenje
and he looks at the flames
their shadows
and the ash
dancing
into
the
dusk