-^-for posterity-^-

the english department second year students vs. the economic department second year students. oh, and one very large, white teacher.

the field was sand and rocks and the goals were wooden and backed with old fishing nets. the sun was directly overhead and the temperature couldn’t have been any less than 100. the sand was loose in some places and tough in others. that made running unpredictable. at one moment you could burst ahead and at other moments you were left sputtering in a cloud of dust.

the game began and i was told to play in the front. this wasn’t because i was fast or because i was adequately skilled but probably because of two reasons: i am their teacher and i am tall (relatively). i stood their and my body tried to remember back to my freshman and sophomore years of high school. i used to play soccer and my legs used to know what to do. they seem to have forgotten.

i did end up scoring a few goals. two of them were luck and the third looked remarkably good. i still don’t know what got into me. the rest of the team played surprisingly good and with much intensity. some of my students who never talk in class are tenacious players. they run and play like a fire is burning inside of them. in class they sit and pretend to ignore me. how do i get that fire to burn all the time?

we also had quite a large cheering section. the girls from the class all came out to watch their boys defend the english department’s honor. they stood on the sideline in the shade, clapped when we did something good, laughed when we fell and generally chatted.

near the end of the game my good fortune ran out. i was running towards the goal and collided with the goalie. i flew to the ground in a cloud of dust but got up right away. there was an incredibly painful sensation in my right foot. i wondered if it was seriously hurt or not. i hobbled to the sideline trying not to let on that i was hurting. someone took my place on the field and i sat down in a pool of dirt and my own sweat. one of my students came over to me with what amounted to a homeopathic first-aid kit. he took my shoe off, asked me some questions and began his treatment. he felt my bones and they seemed to be ok. he knew exactly what he was doing. he felt my tendons and what not and found the right one. he didn’t poke around until he found something that hurt, he lightly touched and found something that was inflamed. he asked for something in vietnamese and a small bottle filled with a clear liquid was given to him. he rubbed it on my foot and the pain quickly subsided. it was like he sucked the hurt from my foot. i was more shocked than anything. shocked that he had no problem touching my dirty, sweaty feet and shocked that he had some magic lotion that would cure foot pain.

the lotion took effect and slowly started to tingle. i smiled and enjoyed the moment i was experiencing. standing in a sand field playing with my english students against the despicable economic department. enjoying the sweat drip down my face and collect on my shirt. enjoying the taste of dust and sand in my mouth. looking at my students quietly sitting on the sideline in the shade and just being generally thankful for where i was.