Ten Seconds

A few nights ago, I was on night duty, and after I made my rounds, I ended up in the dining hall with the KG-1, KG-2, KG-3, and Class 1-3 students.  I played with the little ones, taught the trick of separating the index finger by using the thumb on the other hand - terrifying half of the kids before I told them the secret, and spent some time chatting with the older ones who were excited about the Provincial Deaf Games happening here in the end of March.  

All was going smoothly and well, then all of sudden the mood in the dining hall was transformed.  Completely transformed.  The blaring television has captured the attention of all one hundred odd kids.  Bewildered, I turned to the television and became even more confused.  I saw an advertisement for a candy, a mint, or something of the like, and then I looked around to the students with raised eyebrows, looking for an explanation.  An explanation was not forthcoming as the eyes of every kid were riveted on the television, waiting for something to happen. 

The little ones were standing on the dining tables, poised, the older ones were standing on the benches or the concrete floor waiting.... for something.  I could feel the anticipation in the air.  Suddenly the main character, who was somebody like a traffic policeman, in the ad popped a candy, mint, whatever it was, and became all energetic and started doing his job with crazy enthusiasm, which basically consists of directing traffic doing a Luhya sort of dance where stands on one leg, and the other leg is up and waving around, and using a windmill motion with one arm, supposedly to keep the traffic moving.  

As I watch the guy do this for five or ten seconds, I became aware of moving legs and arms, and then realized that every kid in the dining hall was copying his movements.  I started watching in amazement at the perfectly choreographed ten seconds of kids on tables, benches and stage moving almost in unison.  

As fast as it started, it was soon over and forgotten.  In one corner of the dining hall, six years old Emmanuel went back to his favorite pastime, chasing six years old girls, more specifically Fatuma and Elina; on a table in the middle of the hall, Christine, Riziki, and their friends went back to braiding their hair, and Jumaa, Stephen, Liwali and Kazungu went back to their eternal argument about whether Manchester United or Arsenal is the better football team as they stood lazily by the windows.  The only sign left of this ten seconds window of amazement is my gaping mouth and my mind racing with wonderment.  

The crazy ass random things that kids do!