Mejores amigos.

You know what they say about best friends, right?

Introducing (from left to right): Bryan (10) and Ronaldo (9). They are my newest best friends. Seriously.

I speak as much Spanish as they do English, but we manage to make the most of our time together with lots of smiles, laughs, pointing, and tickling. They continually kick my butt in futbol and are always coming up with new games with balloons.

We take way too many pictures together (on other people's cameras at the moment). Yesterday, on the steps of the community house, Bryan was enthralled with one of my friend's cameras and insisted that she take a picture of us with it. Ronaldo then jumped into my lap and we all got close and smiled big.

Their hugs, most simply, make my day.

Their little arms often surprisingly reach around from my back and squeeze my stomach tightly; sometimes they'll come from across the community house just for some love.

Today, Bryan coyly shuttled across the room, his arms tight to his body, smiling. As he approached me, his arms and eyes opened wide and he went right in for a hug. How can that not make one feel absolutely the best one can feel in all of life? If I've accomplished nothing else, I know that Bryan and Ronaldo love my hugs. And I love theirs.

Ronaldo is the quiet one, but his energy more than makes up for his verbal shyness. When we did arts and crafts, he was the only boy to make his own basket independently, and then continued to fashion an outfit out of newspaper and glue. He sat patiently next to me, watching me help the other kids figure out their paper strips and where the tape was. Then, he would tap me on the shoulder to show me his latest design, at which point we would briefly celebrate with a high five and fist bump.

Bryan is the teacher. He loves to say the Spanish word for whatever it is I'm pointing to, and then he waits for me to repeat it correctly before we move on. With Bryan, I have learned Spanish colors, some animals, and "let's wash our hands." He then really enjoys to curl up next to me in circles, then try to distract me so he can go in for the tickle kill. When that doesn't work, we laugh anyway.

The best was when our group was preparing to clean the disaster of a community house after an extravangaza with body paint. As I pointed to some cleaning supplies (aka, water and newspaper), the boys took it upon themselves to each grab one of my arms and simultaneously peel away the layers of paint stuck between my wrist and shoulder. If it weren't so cute, and their hands weren't so little, I may have cried in slight pain. But, instead, I casually stood and laughed with them as they chipped away at the paint. When it was getting to be slightly ridiculous, we all agreed to pick up some newspaper and agua and go at the floor. They worked harder at that floor than most anybody else in that room. Aren't they the best?

I think so. When we leave the community every night, they are the ones to walk me to the van, give me a big hug, and then try and sit in the van themselves. We always joke that I'm taking them home, but we all know that it isn't possible, and we all secretly want that to not be true. Well, at least I do. Especially when they run after the van as we drive off, holding onto my window as long as Douglas will drive slow enough for them to stay safe. But, we have to climb a huge hill, and so eventually, we must speed up and they must let go.

I miss them more every time we round the corner and I can no longer see them. I think about the night they have ahead of them, in the poor hills of Altos, with stray dogs and and outdoor bathrooms. I hope I give them a better slice of life in our time together, but as they disappear from view, I can only wish that someday, they will acheive the best life possible. They so deserve it -- college, a nice living, and great family, and a place they can call home.

What will I do when it's December 19 and I can't see them as our plane rises over the city of San Salvador, and disappears into the clouds heading north.

I hope, by that time, I have touched their lives at least half of how much they have touched mine. And after that, I hope we can continue our friendship, heart to heart, and that they grow into the great men I know they can be.

Sorry for the long post -- Bryan and Ronaldo are hard to leave behind, even if it's only for a weekend.

You know what they say about best friends though, right? That we can just pick up wherever we left off, as if no time or space has changed. Let's hope there's something true in that for us.

~MJ