I arrived at the fourth floor... abandoned as always...
But something had changed...
In the lasts steps, some dust started to show up... and the smell of paint invaded more and more my nose.
What I saw is... easy to explain, but hard to describe.
Teachers and their simple willpower, devoted themselves with effort to the place, repairing, painting, making it better...
"This should be done by the government", I thought.
Seeing them so devoted, laughing and talking while sweating, paint dripping and dust causing sneezes, was... moving.
I thought about their salaries, the heat of the day, their desires, their valuable time invested...
It wasn’t the most healthy place, speaking of a biological point of view. An allergic would probably need to get out running away. But it did was on a psychological, emotional way.
It was an unpleasant work, with a more than pleasant purpose.
“This is, no less, than love to art”.
