At the beginning of the seventies Caracas was a very cosmopolitan city, pleasant, quiet, with great economic activity and an excellent cultural life. Its streets were filled with people from different parts of the world and almost every day there were buses of North American tourists, mostly retired people who came to the city attracted by its eternal spring weather.
But that tranquility was occasionally broken by protests of students who took to the streets to demand different demands. The reasons for the protests were very diverse, one day protesting for more social justice and another for the end of the Vietnam War.
At that time I was finishing high school, I studied in a high school in the West where the protests became quite strong and acted irresponsibly, breaking public property and interrupting the free movement of people. We did not know at that time that with those actions we were contributing to lay the foundations for the disaster that would come to the country with the Bolivarian Revolution of the XXI century.
One morning a friend and I were participating in a large march calling for the reopening of the Central University of Venezuela, which had been closed by the government due to the violence of the protests.
At one point we passed in front of the Pedagógico de Caracas, where people were studying to become teachers. My friend invited me to leave the march and we went to see the Pedagógico. I was taking a step that would be decisive in my life.
By chance, that day the pre-registration for the selection exams for the new school year ended, and my friend and I decided to pre-register. We both felt like we were pulling a prank, because we were sure that we did not have the merits to be selected. I had never thought I could be a teacher, that was not in any of my plans.
A few months later we took the exams and to our surprise we were both selected. In the following four years I dedicated myself to study with discipline and tenacity. My professors did a great job, they gave me the tools to see life from a more mature and responsible perspective.
At the end I received my university degree and for forty-five years I dedicated myself to being a teacher, I was fortunate to teach at all levels, from high school to university and graduate school. Being a teacher is one of the best things that ever happened to me.
By the year eighty-nine I was finishing my second college degree and starting graduate studies. I was still a high school teacher but my big dream was to be a university professor.
By chance a vacancy arose in an extension of the Pedagogical University in Maracay, the city where I lived. A friend told me that it was a great opportunity to enter the University. There were only a few hours on Saturday mornings and the course was aimed at practicing teachers.
I was excited about the experience of working with adults and that there were only a few hours, so I could continue with my graduate studies. But Saturday morning was dedicated to going to the pool for swimming training. After thinking about it a lot, I told my friend no. I would not. Later maybe another opportunity would present itself at a better time.
After two weeks my friend called me again, the teacher they had found could not continue due to health problems. He asked me to take over the course. In view of his insistence I said yes, suspended the training in the pool and prepared myself mentally for the new experience.
I liked those classes very much, working with adults was a more enriching experience, we could share about subjects that the younger ones did not find so interesting. Almost all the students liked to express their opinion and our class became a great forum.
In that group there was a very special student, her opinions were always well grounded and enriched the discussion. As time went by I began to notice her more and I realized that she was not indifferent to me.
One day I invited her for coffee at a place near the University. After that day came others, we started dating and we decided to live together...
We had some fear because both she and I had children from previous unions, she had one and I had two. We didn't know how the boys would take the idea of our union, but as the three boys got to know each other they got along wonderfully and made things easier. Then we had a daughter and our family got much stronger...
To this day we have been together, that's thirty-five years of watching our children and now our granddaughters grow up.
Leaving the pool to take those Saturday morning classes was the best decision of my life.
I am publishing this post motivated by the initiative proposed by my friend @ericvancewalton, Memoir Monday, in its fourth week. For more information click on the link.
Thank you for your time.
Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version).
Logo creado por @themanualbot
