Playing with kids is a lot different here than in the United States. There is a lot more yelling and a lot less crying. I never have kids come up to me crying, “ he hit me” or “ he took the ball from me”. They typically solve these issues by themselves (not always in the most civilized manner) but it’s pretty amusing to watch a game of football or volleyball because they play with a lot of passion. My favorite conversations to hear is amongst third grade boys in a game of soccer. “ Non, mon cher, li pa bon, li pa bon. Oh mon cher, ou kote? Neg, pas fais ca! “ translation (No, my dear, that wasn’t good. Oh my dear, where are you at? Neg, don’t do that!) They get very heated but in the next moment will be laughing.
Yesterday as I was playing volleyball with the sixth graders, I notice all the kids running up behind one girl, Stephanie. They would run up, point to her derriere, laugh, and run away. Stephanie was tugging at her shirt, pulling it down. I ran over to see the problem. She tore her pants but it was not a little tear it was a down to her thighs and unfortunately it was not only her pants, but her underwear too! I’m not going to lie, I had to walk away for a second to hide my smile. Well, it was fine in the end, someone gave her a change of clothes and there were no tears just laughter.
A Little Seed Makes a Big Tree 