It’s summertime and the weather outside is more confusing than spaceships applying the theory of aerodynamics, so I suggest an analogy.
I check the weather forecast every morning when I go out to the park with my friends to see what I can wear: warmer or lighter clothes, if I need my dotted umbrella or if I don’t have to carry it with me because it would be pointless.
24 degrees ( even if it always feels like there are 42, actually) and at some hours– clouds on the sky. Only clouds, with minimal chances of rain.
Every time I tell myself it’s ok, that the dotted umbrella’s services are not necessarily needed; so, every time I end up leaving my house equipped with my very small and light fanny pack and the indispensable pandemic face mask.
I don’t know how many times this has happened to you: you are enjoying your time at it’s fullest and right there and then everything turns dark, you hear a gong in the skies and in the end you are attacked by the clouds’ heavy artillery, all the while you happen to be in a shortage of clothes or umbrellas that might defend you. Happens every time to me. And I never learn to bring that umbrella that might be a savior in critical moments, but also a pain in other.
Leaving aside these short but intense rainy moments, every single time I am left under the sun (quite literally). As Andra sings in her song “După rău vine bine” ( “After the bad, good follows”), after every summer rain that soaks my entire being to the marrow of my bones, between the parting clouds, a rainbow appears.
And I will be honest with you: maybe it doesn’t seem much when you read about it, but looking at a rainbow after you’ve been hit left-right by gallons of water and before that when the sun fried you like a grilled chicken in the oven, that feeling is simply divine…
Considering that at the beginning I promised you an analogy, it’s high time I kept my word. Imagine the rain is school during the covid-19 pandemic. It’s the lessons that seem neverending, that seem without purpose – it was bad enough that you barely understood them in school, when there’s someone explaining them to you in the flesh, now you’re lost in a confusion fog, especially when you need to hold your laptop upside down because the teacher didn’t realize that he’s holding the camera upside-down.
Now the key to this tangled puzzle (I am sorry) is the rainbow. Who or what is the rainbow you may ask? My answer is Laruxa. Even if these workshops are also held on Zoom, it seems like I have understood more from then than from the online school classes.
Don’t get me wrong, i am not saying that the school lessons don’t have any particular purpose to them, just as the scorching heat does before the chilly rain. What i wanna say is that taking part of the classes from the Laruxa school has made the whole experience of the pouring rain more beautiful, eactly like when after almost all summer downpours you know there is a rainbow waiting to happen.
I have learned a lot about myself from their very relaxed classes, in which we discussed and examined different things and situations. From the diversity class I have learned that everything is painted in the shades of white, grey and black and not always only black or only white. From the nature course I have realized that, even though our Planet is very very big and I am very small, the impact of my actions is huge. From the friendship lesson I have learned that if we get to know ourselves, we get to know the whole Universe. Last but not least, from the creative writing class I have learned to trust in my own writing style and to make comparissons like the one from above (I hope you are proud of me, Rux).
But that’s not all. That’s only what I have understood from these classes. But it is the same as looking at a rainbow: you can think about coloured crayons, about the super cool movie with fairy Barbies or about the pride flag, that’s exactly how Laruxa school is too. They don’t give you an information and tell you that that’s just how it is until the end of time. You discuss it, present arguments, you listen to the others’ counter-arguments and at the end you draw up your own conclusions, for you alone.
With that being said, Sea for Yourself!
Elena Boca, 17