I'm getting close to having photos of all the teachers. La chica in the foreground is Andrea, another of my very willing students.
Behind her from left to right are Selvin & Juan, whose photos are already uploaded, and Pedro.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Mikaso Hotel
The white building in the background is the hotel Mikaso, where I get my best internet signal. Nonetheless, uploading each photo takes a few minutes, if it works at all.
I will be tutoring the manager, who is from Spain, starting this week, and making 30Q (about $4.00) an hour plus a soft drink.
Teachers - Juan
Juan is one of the teachers for whom learning English is somewhat difficult, and he is always willing and engaged and hardworking. He is very warm and gracious when we meet.
Teachers - Letty Uno & Norberto
Letty is the first teacher I met when I came to Atitlán. She has one of the lower levels of English and works really hard. Yesterday we met to discuss a time for an extra class, and I began to speak in Spanish. She said, "English please," and so we did. I was SO proud of her!
Norbert is one of the most advanced English speakers. He only works afternoons, so I don't see him much, but he is warm and kind.
Maria in the window was an intern in the office
for several weeks.
Teachers - Francisco
Francisco is a sweetie. He's one of the teachers I moved to a lower class with some misgivings about how he would feel. When I told him, he thanked me. After the first time in his new class, he was so happy! He said, "I could understand in my other class, but I couldn't answer fast enough. Now I can."
He is Norberto's brother.
Javi
This is Javier, or Javi, one of my closest friends at the school. He is a very complicated person, and our conversations are often complicated and involved and always interesting. I dubbed him the Mayan Johnny Depp for his appearance and flair.
He's a whiz at grammar. This morning I asked him why he loved grammar so much. His response: "It helps me make sense of the world."
Sunday, July 27
I realized in my last entry that I had miscalculated my time here; I have a little more than three weeks rather than a little less. It still feels like not enough. I don’t mind going back to MN and am looking forward to seeing my friends there and taking on a new teaching challenge; however, it’s hard to imagine not being here.
The classes I teach continue to go well after my bump earlier in the week. I am learning to let go and enjoy the way the teachers interact with me and with each other in the classes. They are very social and playful, and it is good for me to adapt to their style and enjoy myself. Last week, with Rafa’s input, I moved a teacher from the basic to the intermediate class, three from intermediate to advanced, and two from advanced to intermediate based on results of a test I gave them and on what I had observed. The changes seem to have worked well, and Selvin says he has heard positive comments from the teachers involved. All three classes are coming together nicely.
Rafa and I spent our four hours Friday comparing the school here with my work experiences in the States. True to form, he set up a chart on the board so he could categorize and analyze the information. We had a little scuffle when we were talking about how often the teachers have meetings here and in the US and I mentioned the importance of both time together and food. His response was, “Well, of course we have food at our meetings; that’s nothing special.” I pointed out that it was nothing special because he knew nothing else and that for me it is very special to be fed at the meetings; for me it brings an additional element of camaraderie and a sense of being nurtured.
Since my culture bump several weeks ago, I have been enjoying Guatemala with new eyes, often with my best friend here, Maria. She is 28 and from Ukraine but now lives and studies in Denmark. We have become very close and share very deeply about our lives. We also have a wonderful time teasing each other and laughing about silly things. She will be leaving in a week and it hard to imagine how life here will be without her. She has promised to give me salsa lessons before she goes.
We usually go out to eat once a day and are still intrigued by the presence of dogs, cats, drugs, and vendors in the restaurants. We had gotten used to the women selling “Pan de banana, pan de chocolate” in the garden restaurants, but it surprised us the first time they came to the second floor of the restaurant we were in. I am pretty used to bathrooms with no toilet seats. Toilet paper is optional, and if there is a sink, it is outside the bathroom, and there is cold water, no soap, and rarely a towel. Hot water is nonexistent in my life except in my shower (usually), and yesterday as I was taking a shower, I heard a loud pop and realized that the wiring for the hot water above my head was on fire.
I remember teaching my first class here and having one of the teachers announce that he had to go to the bathroom. I was a little shocked and suggested that I did not need the information. Since then, I have grown accustomed. The bathrooms at the school are in a shed directly behind the break area, so it’s impossible to use them during the break without everyone seeing.
I have developed a new relationship to noise. My housemate, Cynthia, and I live next door to a bar, and there is constant noise from there and from the alley next to our house and the street in front: people calling, children playing, motorcycles, trucks, cars, and horses going by, and firecrackers going off at all hours. Now I can sleep through almost anything.
It takes me about five minutes to walk to school. I start down the road in front of my house, where cars and tuc-tucs are allowed, and pass three restaurants, a building under construction, and a corn field. I take a left to a smaller road, almost a path where only motorcycles and bikes are allowed, and go a short distance past a house where a man sells used English books (I don’t have the time or interest to look.), another man does massage and sells European pastries, and someone else runs a small store (tienda) in the front of their house. Then I turn right and go past another store, four or five restaurants, a bar or two, a small hotel, and another field of corn as I approach the school. There is always ongoing construction. Past the school are several more restaurants and bars, two places to get laundry done, an internet café and a place which offers balloon workshops (I haven’t stopped to ask.), this all within three short blocks. I have no need to go into the center of town, although I do go down to the el embarcadero (the dock) several times a week, where I usually run into someone I know. I find it intriguing that my physical world is so small and my relational and mental worlds so infinite. I get anywhere I want within 15 minutes at the most and haven’t even been on a lancha to San Marcos for a couple of weeks.
I spend a lot of time at school. I start my days there giving Selvin a private class at 7:00. He is always so busy running the office that he can’t come to the scheduled classes, but he has made a commitment to working with me. I then meet at 7:30 with Javier, who prefers to work alone rather than in a group. He is one of my closest friends at the school, and our conversations range from grammar to philosophy to our life experiences, He is extremely well read, and we are attempting to translate Nietzsche from Spanish to English. I work with Rafa from 8:00 to12:00 , generally in Spanish until the break at 10:00 and in English when we return, and then come back home for lunch before I go back later in the afternoon to meet with teachers who want private classes; there is usually someone. If not, I can always find someone to have an interesting conversation with, most often about grammar or language teaching. Most afternoons at 5:00 I meet with Lucas for an hour before going on to the teachers’ meeting Monday, my classes Tuesday through Thursday and Rafa’s grammar class on Friday. My school day generally ends at 8:00. On weekends I am usually at the school as well. Yesterday I met with Javier at 8:00 for an English class but ended up talking with him and Selvin for a couple of hours. I then gave a private class to Elena, who had missed her class during the week, and another class to Manuela at 5:00, and Javier, and Selvin joined in.
It is still remarkable to me how well trained and knowledgeable the teachers, especially considering that some of them are as young as 18 or 19 and many if not most have never attended college. It's also hard to picture single 18- to 25-year-olds teaching English all day.Seems to me that there are a lot of hormones floating around here, especially testosterone, between the teachers and the young students who come here from all over the world. Impromptu classes are held frequently when a teacher asks for some clarification about a point of teaching, and when I go into the office, there is usually a discussion going on about some aspect of language teaching.
I found out the other day that if a teacher works fulltime and is at the top of the pay scale, he or she makes 600Q a week, or about $85. This entails working from 8:00 to 12:00 or from 9:00 to 1:00 with one student and then from 1:00 to 5:00 or 2:00 to 6:00 with another; the classes are one-on-one. The teachers have a meeting at 7:30 Monday morning to discuss the week, a longer meeting at 6:00 in the evening to talk about the school, and generally at least one class or training later in the week for two hours. Right now the priority is English classes, but the newer teachers have grammar class on Friday evening from 6:00 to 7:30 as well. They are not paid for any of the meetings or classes, although I hear from many teachers that they consider this time a good investment in their professional development. Teachers only get paid for the time they work, so if the school is not full as is the case now, some teachers are only getting paid for four hours a day.
There is a tremendous openness among the teachers. One of them has spoken to me several times about his problems with alcohol. I asked him the other day if the other teachers knew about his addiction. His response was, “Of course, and everyone in San Pedro knows too.” It strikes me that because of the openness of the physical environment at school, the fact that being at the school is such a large part of the teacher’s lives, and that San Pedro is a relatively small town, the teachers really have no secrets. I have heard quite a few personal stories from some of them, and talking about our lives and our feelings at work is a common pastime. If I am feeling down or have a question or concern about one of my students or about my teaching, I can always find someone to talk with. This is in addition to the hours and hours Rafa and I talk in my class. We generally study Spanish – and gradually more and more English- within the context of conversations about teaching but always bringing rigor to our teaching. We have a similar style of correcting, which is to either offer a look or repeat the mistake and wait, rather than jumping in to correct.
The classes I teach continue to go well after my bump earlier in the week. I am learning to let go and enjoy the way the teachers interact with me and with each other in the classes. They are very social and playful, and it is good for me to adapt to their style and enjoy myself. Last week, with Rafa’s input, I moved a teacher from the basic to the intermediate class, three from intermediate to advanced, and two from advanced to intermediate based on results of a test I gave them and on what I had observed. The changes seem to have worked well, and Selvin says he has heard positive comments from the teachers involved. All three classes are coming together nicely.
Rafa and I spent our four hours Friday comparing the school here with my work experiences in the States. True to form, he set up a chart on the board so he could categorize and analyze the information. We had a little scuffle when we were talking about how often the teachers have meetings here and in the US and I mentioned the importance of both time together and food. His response was, “Well, of course we have food at our meetings; that’s nothing special.” I pointed out that it was nothing special because he knew nothing else and that for me it is very special to be fed at the meetings; for me it brings an additional element of camaraderie and a sense of being nurtured.
Since my culture bump several weeks ago, I have been enjoying Guatemala with new eyes, often with my best friend here, Maria. She is 28 and from Ukraine but now lives and studies in Denmark. We have become very close and share very deeply about our lives. We also have a wonderful time teasing each other and laughing about silly things. She will be leaving in a week and it hard to imagine how life here will be without her. She has promised to give me salsa lessons before she goes.
We usually go out to eat once a day and are still intrigued by the presence of dogs, cats, drugs, and vendors in the restaurants. We had gotten used to the women selling “Pan de banana, pan de chocolate” in the garden restaurants, but it surprised us the first time they came to the second floor of the restaurant we were in. I am pretty used to bathrooms with no toilet seats. Toilet paper is optional, and if there is a sink, it is outside the bathroom, and there is cold water, no soap, and rarely a towel. Hot water is nonexistent in my life except in my shower (usually), and yesterday as I was taking a shower, I heard a loud pop and realized that the wiring for the hot water above my head was on fire.
I remember teaching my first class here and having one of the teachers announce that he had to go to the bathroom. I was a little shocked and suggested that I did not need the information. Since then, I have grown accustomed. The bathrooms at the school are in a shed directly behind the break area, so it’s impossible to use them during the break without everyone seeing.
I have developed a new relationship to noise. My housemate, Cynthia, and I live next door to a bar, and there is constant noise from there and from the alley next to our house and the street in front: people calling, children playing, motorcycles, trucks, cars, and horses going by, and firecrackers going off at all hours. Now I can sleep through almost anything.
It takes me about five minutes to walk to school. I start down the road in front of my house, where cars and tuc-tucs are allowed, and pass three restaurants, a building under construction, and a corn field. I take a left to a smaller road, almost a path where only motorcycles and bikes are allowed, and go a short distance past a house where a man sells used English books (I don’t have the time or interest to look.), another man does massage and sells European pastries, and someone else runs a small store (tienda) in the front of their house. Then I turn right and go past another store, four or five restaurants, a bar or two, a small hotel, and another field of corn as I approach the school. There is always ongoing construction. Past the school are several more restaurants and bars, two places to get laundry done, an internet café and a place which offers balloon workshops (I haven’t stopped to ask.), this all within three short blocks. I have no need to go into the center of town, although I do go down to the el embarcadero (the dock) several times a week, where I usually run into someone I know. I find it intriguing that my physical world is so small and my relational and mental worlds so infinite. I get anywhere I want within 15 minutes at the most and haven’t even been on a lancha to San Marcos for a couple of weeks.
I spend a lot of time at school. I start my days there giving Selvin a private class at 7:00. He is always so busy running the office that he can’t come to the scheduled classes, but he has made a commitment to working with me. I then meet at 7:30 with Javier, who prefers to work alone rather than in a group. He is one of my closest friends at the school, and our conversations range from grammar to philosophy to our life experiences, He is extremely well read, and we are attempting to translate Nietzsche from Spanish to English. I work with Rafa from 8:00 to12:00 , generally in Spanish until the break at 10:00 and in English when we return, and then come back home for lunch before I go back later in the afternoon to meet with teachers who want private classes; there is usually someone. If not, I can always find someone to have an interesting conversation with, most often about grammar or language teaching. Most afternoons at 5:00 I meet with Lucas for an hour before going on to the teachers’ meeting Monday, my classes Tuesday through Thursday and Rafa’s grammar class on Friday. My school day generally ends at 8:00. On weekends I am usually at the school as well. Yesterday I met with Javier at 8:00 for an English class but ended up talking with him and Selvin for a couple of hours. I then gave a private class to Elena, who had missed her class during the week, and another class to Manuela at 5:00, and Javier, and Selvin joined in.
It is still remarkable to me how well trained and knowledgeable the teachers, especially considering that some of them are as young as 18 or 19 and many if not most have never attended college. It's also hard to picture single 18- to 25-year-olds teaching English all day.Seems to me that there are a lot of hormones floating around here, especially testosterone, between the teachers and the young students who come here from all over the world. Impromptu classes are held frequently when a teacher asks for some clarification about a point of teaching, and when I go into the office, there is usually a discussion going on about some aspect of language teaching.
I found out the other day that if a teacher works fulltime and is at the top of the pay scale, he or she makes 600Q a week, or about $85. This entails working from 8:00 to 12:00 or from 9:00 to 1:00 with one student and then from 1:00 to 5:00 or 2:00 to 6:00 with another; the classes are one-on-one. The teachers have a meeting at 7:30 Monday morning to discuss the week, a longer meeting at 6:00 in the evening to talk about the school, and generally at least one class or training later in the week for two hours. Right now the priority is English classes, but the newer teachers have grammar class on Friday evening from 6:00 to 7:30 as well. They are not paid for any of the meetings or classes, although I hear from many teachers that they consider this time a good investment in their professional development. Teachers only get paid for the time they work, so if the school is not full as is the case now, some teachers are only getting paid for four hours a day.
There is a tremendous openness among the teachers. One of them has spoken to me several times about his problems with alcohol. I asked him the other day if the other teachers knew about his addiction. His response was, “Of course, and everyone in San Pedro knows too.” It strikes me that because of the openness of the physical environment at school, the fact that being at the school is such a large part of the teacher’s lives, and that San Pedro is a relatively small town, the teachers really have no secrets. I have heard quite a few personal stories from some of them, and talking about our lives and our feelings at work is a common pastime. If I am feeling down or have a question or concern about one of my students or about my teaching, I can always find someone to talk with. This is in addition to the hours and hours Rafa and I talk in my class. We generally study Spanish – and gradually more and more English- within the context of conversations about teaching but always bringing rigor to our teaching. We have a similar style of correcting, which is to either offer a look or repeat the mistake and wait, rather than jumping in to correct.
Dining Room
This is our dining room outside our kitchen. Inside we have a counter, shelves, a frig, and a two-burner gas stove.
Our new fence extension
This is our beautiful new fence extension which shields us from the restaurant next door. It is really butt ugly, and we have had some good laughs about it ruining the neighborhood. I suggested to Cynthia that we name it "Pan Pipes." Why not? Bamboo is the building material of choice here. The blue structure to the right is our sink, which is on the opposite side of the courtyard from the kitchen. Again, why not?
Saturday, July 26
I realized in my last entry that I had miscalculated my time here; I have a little more than three weeks rather than a little less. It still feels like not enough. I don’t mind going back to MN and am looking forward to seeing my friends there and taking on a new teaching challenge; however, it’s hard to imagine not being here.
The classes I teach continue to go well after my bump earlier in the week. I am learning to let go and enjoy the way the teachers interact with me and with each other in the classes. There is often a lot of laughing in the classes. Last week, with Rafa’s help, I moved two teachers from the basic to the intermediate class, three from intermediate to advanced, and two from advanced to intermediate based on results of a test I gave them and on what I had observed. The changes seem to have worked well, and Selvin says he has heard positive comments from the teachers involved. All three classes are coming together nicely.
Rafa and I spent our four hours Friday comparing the school here with what I have experienced in my teaching in the States. True to form, he set up a chart on the board so he could categorize and analyze the information. We had a little scuffle when we were talking about how often the teachers have meetings here and in the US and I mentioned the importance of both time together and food. His response was, “Well, of course we have food at our meetings; that’s nothing special.” I pointed out that it was nothing special because he knew nothing else and that for me it is very special to be fed at the meetings; for me it brings an additional element of camaraderie and a sense of being nurtured.
Since my culture bump several weeks ago, I have been enjoying Guatemala with new eyes, often with my best friend here, Maria. She is 28 and from Ukraine but now lives and studies in Denmark. We have become very close and share very deeply about our lives. We also have a wonderful time teasing each other and laughing about silly things. She will be leaving in a week and it hard to imagine how life here will be without her. She has promised to give me salsa lessons before she goes.
We usually go out to eat once a day and are still intrigued by the presence of dogs, cats, drugs, and vendors in the restaurants. We had gotten used to the women selling “Pan de banana, pan de chocolate” in the garden restaurants, but it surprised us the first time they came to the second floor of the restaurant we were in. I am pretty used to bathrooms with no toilet seats. Toilet paper is optional, and if there is a sink, it is outside the bathroom, and there is cold water, no soap, and rarely a towel. Hot water is nonexistent in my life except in my shower (usually), and yesterday as I was taking a shower, I heard a loud pop and realized that the wiring for the hot water above my head was on fire.
I remember teaching my first class here and having one of the teachers announce that he had to go to the bathroom. I was a little shocked and suggested that I did not need the information. Since then, I have grown accustomed. The bathrooms at the school are in a shed directly behind the break area, so it’s impossible to use them during the break without everyone seeing, so why not talk about it openly? People are also very open about discussing their digestive problems in gerat detaail.
I have developed a new relationship to noise. My housemate, Cynthia, and I live next door to a bar, and there is constant noise from there and from the alley next to our house and the street in front: people calling, children playing, motorcycles, trucks, cars, and horses going by, and firecrackers going off at all hours. Now I can sleep through almost anything. Cynthia had some bamboo put up to make the fence around the yard higher and shield us from the restaurant next door. It is butt ugly, and we have had some good laughs when we talked about simply considering it very quirky art rather than being bothered by it.
It takes me about five minutes to walk to school. I start down the road in front of my house, where cars and tuc-tucs are allowed, and pass three restaurants. I take a left in to a smaller road, where only motorcycles and bikes are allowed and go a short distance past a house where a man sells used English books (I don’t have the time or interest to look.), another man does massage and sells European pastries, and someone else runs a small store (tienda) in the front of their house. Then I turn right and go past another store, four or five restaurants, a bar or two, a small hotel, a field of corn as I approach the school. There is always ongoing construction. Past the school are several more restaurants and bars, two places to get laundry done, an internet café and a place which offers balloon workshops (I haven’t stopped to ask.), this all within three short blocks. I have no need to go into the center of town, although I do go down to the el embarcadero (the dock) several times a week, where I usually run into someone I know. I find it intriguing that my physical world is so small and my relational and mental worlds so infinite.
I spend a lot of time at school. I start my days there giving Selvin a private class at 7:00. He is always so busy running the office that he can’t come to the scheduled classes, but he has made a commitment to working with me. I then meet at 7:30 with Javier, who prefers to work alone rather than in a group. He is one of my closest friends at the school, and our conversations range from grammar to philosophy to our life experiences, He is extremely well read, and we are attempting to translate Nietzsche from Spanish to English. I work with Rafa from 8:00 to12:00 , generally in Spanish until the break at 10:00 and in English when we return, and then come back home for lunch before I go back later in the afternnoon to meet with teachers who want private classes; there is usually someone. If not, I can always find someone to have an interesting conversation with, most often about grammar or language teaching. Most afternoons at 5:00 I meet with Lucas for an hour before going on to the teachers’ meeting Monday, my classes Tuesday through Thursday and Rafa’s grammar class on Friday. My school day generally ends at 8:00. On weekends I am usually at the school as well. Yesterday I met with Javier at 8:00 for an English class but ended up talking with him and Selvin for a couple of hours. I then gace a private class to Elena, who had missed her class during the week, and another class to Manuela, Javier, and Selvin at 5:00.
It is still remarkable to me how well trained and knowledgeable the teachers, especially considering that some of them are as young as 18 or 19 and many if not most have never attended college. Impromptu classes are held frequently when a teacher asks for some clarification about a point of teaching, and when I go into the office, there is usually a discussion going on about some aspect of language teaching. I found out the other day that if a teacher works fulltime and is at the top of the pay scale, he or she makes 600Q a week, or about $85. This entails working from 8:00 to 12:00 or from 9:00 to 1:00 with one student and then from 1:00 to 5:00 or 2:00 to 6:00 with another; the classes are one-on-one. Then teachers have a meeting at 7:30 Monday morning to discuss the week, a longer meeting at 6:00 to talk about the school, and generally at least one class or training later in the week for two hours. Right now the priority is English classes, but the newer teachers have grammar class on Friday evening from 6:00 to 7:30. They are not paid for any of the meetings or classes, although I hear from many teachers that they consider this time a good investment in their professional development. Teachers only get paid for the time they work, so if the school is not full as is the case now, some teachers are only getting paid for four hours a day.
There is also a tremendous openness among the teachers. One of them has spoken to me several times about his problems with alcohol. I asked him the other day if the other teachers knew about his addiction. His response was, “Of course, and everyone in San Pedro knows too.” It strikes me that because of the openness of the physical environment at school, the fact that being at the school is such a large part of the teacher’s lives, and that San Pedro is a relatively small town, teachers really have no secrets. I have heard quite a few personal stories from them, and talking about our lives and our feelings at work is a common pastime. If I am feeling down or have a question or concern about one of my students or about my teaching, I can always find someone to talk with. This is in addition to the hours and hours Rafa and I talk in my class. We generally study Spanish – and gradually more and more English- within the context of conversations about teaching but always bringing rigor to our teaching.
The classes I teach continue to go well after my bump earlier in the week. I am learning to let go and enjoy the way the teachers interact with me and with each other in the classes. There is often a lot of laughing in the classes. Last week, with Rafa’s help, I moved two teachers from the basic to the intermediate class, three from intermediate to advanced, and two from advanced to intermediate based on results of a test I gave them and on what I had observed. The changes seem to have worked well, and Selvin says he has heard positive comments from the teachers involved. All three classes are coming together nicely.
Rafa and I spent our four hours Friday comparing the school here with what I have experienced in my teaching in the States. True to form, he set up a chart on the board so he could categorize and analyze the information. We had a little scuffle when we were talking about how often the teachers have meetings here and in the US and I mentioned the importance of both time together and food. His response was, “Well, of course we have food at our meetings; that’s nothing special.” I pointed out that it was nothing special because he knew nothing else and that for me it is very special to be fed at the meetings; for me it brings an additional element of camaraderie and a sense of being nurtured.
Since my culture bump several weeks ago, I have been enjoying Guatemala with new eyes, often with my best friend here, Maria. She is 28 and from Ukraine but now lives and studies in Denmark. We have become very close and share very deeply about our lives. We also have a wonderful time teasing each other and laughing about silly things. She will be leaving in a week and it hard to imagine how life here will be without her. She has promised to give me salsa lessons before she goes.
We usually go out to eat once a day and are still intrigued by the presence of dogs, cats, drugs, and vendors in the restaurants. We had gotten used to the women selling “Pan de banana, pan de chocolate” in the garden restaurants, but it surprised us the first time they came to the second floor of the restaurant we were in. I am pretty used to bathrooms with no toilet seats. Toilet paper is optional, and if there is a sink, it is outside the bathroom, and there is cold water, no soap, and rarely a towel. Hot water is nonexistent in my life except in my shower (usually), and yesterday as I was taking a shower, I heard a loud pop and realized that the wiring for the hot water above my head was on fire.
I remember teaching my first class here and having one of the teachers announce that he had to go to the bathroom. I was a little shocked and suggested that I did not need the information. Since then, I have grown accustomed. The bathrooms at the school are in a shed directly behind the break area, so it’s impossible to use them during the break without everyone seeing, so why not talk about it openly? People are also very open about discussing their digestive problems in gerat detaail.
I have developed a new relationship to noise. My housemate, Cynthia, and I live next door to a bar, and there is constant noise from there and from the alley next to our house and the street in front: people calling, children playing, motorcycles, trucks, cars, and horses going by, and firecrackers going off at all hours. Now I can sleep through almost anything. Cynthia had some bamboo put up to make the fence around the yard higher and shield us from the restaurant next door. It is butt ugly, and we have had some good laughs when we talked about simply considering it very quirky art rather than being bothered by it.
It takes me about five minutes to walk to school. I start down the road in front of my house, where cars and tuc-tucs are allowed, and pass three restaurants. I take a left in to a smaller road, where only motorcycles and bikes are allowed and go a short distance past a house where a man sells used English books (I don’t have the time or interest to look.), another man does massage and sells European pastries, and someone else runs a small store (tienda) in the front of their house. Then I turn right and go past another store, four or five restaurants, a bar or two, a small hotel, a field of corn as I approach the school. There is always ongoing construction. Past the school are several more restaurants and bars, two places to get laundry done, an internet café and a place which offers balloon workshops (I haven’t stopped to ask.), this all within three short blocks. I have no need to go into the center of town, although I do go down to the el embarcadero (the dock) several times a week, where I usually run into someone I know. I find it intriguing that my physical world is so small and my relational and mental worlds so infinite.
I spend a lot of time at school. I start my days there giving Selvin a private class at 7:00. He is always so busy running the office that he can’t come to the scheduled classes, but he has made a commitment to working with me. I then meet at 7:30 with Javier, who prefers to work alone rather than in a group. He is one of my closest friends at the school, and our conversations range from grammar to philosophy to our life experiences, He is extremely well read, and we are attempting to translate Nietzsche from Spanish to English. I work with Rafa from 8:00 to12:00 , generally in Spanish until the break at 10:00 and in English when we return, and then come back home for lunch before I go back later in the afternnoon to meet with teachers who want private classes; there is usually someone. If not, I can always find someone to have an interesting conversation with, most often about grammar or language teaching. Most afternoons at 5:00 I meet with Lucas for an hour before going on to the teachers’ meeting Monday, my classes Tuesday through Thursday and Rafa’s grammar class on Friday. My school day generally ends at 8:00. On weekends I am usually at the school as well. Yesterday I met with Javier at 8:00 for an English class but ended up talking with him and Selvin for a couple of hours. I then gace a private class to Elena, who had missed her class during the week, and another class to Manuela, Javier, and Selvin at 5:00.
It is still remarkable to me how well trained and knowledgeable the teachers, especially considering that some of them are as young as 18 or 19 and many if not most have never attended college. Impromptu classes are held frequently when a teacher asks for some clarification about a point of teaching, and when I go into the office, there is usually a discussion going on about some aspect of language teaching. I found out the other day that if a teacher works fulltime and is at the top of the pay scale, he or she makes 600Q a week, or about $85. This entails working from 8:00 to 12:00 or from 9:00 to 1:00 with one student and then from 1:00 to 5:00 or 2:00 to 6:00 with another; the classes are one-on-one. Then teachers have a meeting at 7:30 Monday morning to discuss the week, a longer meeting at 6:00 to talk about the school, and generally at least one class or training later in the week for two hours. Right now the priority is English classes, but the newer teachers have grammar class on Friday evening from 6:00 to 7:30. They are not paid for any of the meetings or classes, although I hear from many teachers that they consider this time a good investment in their professional development. Teachers only get paid for the time they work, so if the school is not full as is the case now, some teachers are only getting paid for four hours a day.
There is also a tremendous openness among the teachers. One of them has spoken to me several times about his problems with alcohol. I asked him the other day if the other teachers knew about his addiction. His response was, “Of course, and everyone in San Pedro knows too.” It strikes me that because of the openness of the physical environment at school, the fact that being at the school is such a large part of the teacher’s lives, and that San Pedro is a relatively small town, teachers really have no secrets. I have heard quite a few personal stories from them, and talking about our lives and our feelings at work is a common pastime. If I am feeling down or have a question or concern about one of my students or about my teaching, I can always find someone to talk with. This is in addition to the hours and hours Rafa and I talk in my class. We generally study Spanish – and gradually more and more English- within the context of conversations about teaching but always bringing rigor to our teaching.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Teachers - Elizabeth & Clemente
These are two of the teachers I know the least, although I have them in class every week. They have only been married for six months, and it is always a pleasure to see them together in such a tender way.
The setting is the place we gather for breaks when it isn't raining, and behind the wall in the background is the house where I stayed for the first four weeks.
My goal is to get photos of all the teachers.
Don Rafael
This is Don Rafael ("Don" being a title of respect). He takes care of the grounds and sets up the tables and chairs every morning for us. he and I have never had a conversation, but it is always a pleasure to greet him in the morning when we are the only ones at the school.
Horses in the garden
This is a common scene for us when we are studying. I usually try to get us a cabana down ny the lake, and path these horses are on cuts through the school's properties. I have seen men on bicycles leading a string of horses.
Thursday, July 24
It is getting harder and harder to write my entries as I approach the end of my stay here - I will be back in MN in less than three weeks. I am enjoying my time with the teachers so much that it is hard to make time to check my e-mail, let alone write.
Life continues to be great here. I have had an eventful week at the school with my third week of classes. We have had terrific attendance, but I hit a big bump on Tuesday evening with a couple of students who, I felt, were giving me a hard time. I went to class yesterday before Rafa and wrote on the board: Enojada (angry), Frustrada, Cansada (Tired), Confundida (Confused). When he came into our cabana, he asked how I was, and I pointed to the list. True to form, he first corrected my grammar and pointed that I should say "Confusa" instead of "Confundida." I think it is a true measure of our trust and the fun we have together with language that my first reaction was to listen and my second was to laugh. We then spent over three hours talking about what had happened, how I felt about it, his perspective of Maya culture and attitides in Guatemala about education, all in the context of looking at how to approach the situation as a learning experience rather than as a problem. It is hard to describe the intensity of our talks; suffice it to say that even I get overwhelmed. Yesterday evening I taught another class, and it was like day and night; I felt that I could go with what the class wanted and not push my own agenda. We had a great time.
San Pedro is beginning to feel very familiar. Right now I am sitting in a small restaurant which has internet access, and it has begun to rain as it does pretty much every day. Yesterday it rained four times.
I am beginning to resent the time I have to speak English, and last week two people mentioned that my Spanish was improving. One of them was a young man who works in the kitchen of a restaurant next to the school. I told him I didn't think we had had enough conversations for him to notice, but he said he had been listening to me and noticed a big difference.
One of the charming (and sometimes annoying) things about San Pedro that I may have mentioned is that almost no business has change for a 100Q note (about $12). The way they handle it when I don't have change is to ask me to come back. The restaurant where I am sitting is one of the places where I have owed money for a week, since the last time I came. I mentioned it to the woman working here, and she remembered that it was 2Q.
I will wrote more this weekend, when I have promised myself that I will take some time from teaching to catch up on my thoughts and my notes.
Life continues to be great here. I have had an eventful week at the school with my third week of classes. We have had terrific attendance, but I hit a big bump on Tuesday evening with a couple of students who, I felt, were giving me a hard time. I went to class yesterday before Rafa and wrote on the board: Enojada (angry), Frustrada, Cansada (Tired), Confundida (Confused). When he came into our cabana, he asked how I was, and I pointed to the list. True to form, he first corrected my grammar and pointed that I should say "Confusa" instead of "Confundida." I think it is a true measure of our trust and the fun we have together with language that my first reaction was to listen and my second was to laugh. We then spent over three hours talking about what had happened, how I felt about it, his perspective of Maya culture and attitides in Guatemala about education, all in the context of looking at how to approach the situation as a learning experience rather than as a problem. It is hard to describe the intensity of our talks; suffice it to say that even I get overwhelmed. Yesterday evening I taught another class, and it was like day and night; I felt that I could go with what the class wanted and not push my own agenda. We had a great time.
San Pedro is beginning to feel very familiar. Right now I am sitting in a small restaurant which has internet access, and it has begun to rain as it does pretty much every day. Yesterday it rained four times.
I am beginning to resent the time I have to speak English, and last week two people mentioned that my Spanish was improving. One of them was a young man who works in the kitchen of a restaurant next to the school. I told him I didn't think we had had enough conversations for him to notice, but he said he had been listening to me and noticed a big difference.
One of the charming (and sometimes annoying) things about San Pedro that I may have mentioned is that almost no business has change for a 100Q note (about $12). The way they handle it when I don't have change is to ask me to come back. The restaurant where I am sitting is one of the places where I have owed money for a week, since the last time I came. I mentioned it to the woman working here, and she remembered that it was 2Q.
I will wrote more this weekend, when I have promised myself that I will take some time from teaching to catch up on my thoughts and my notes.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Lucas & Ligia
As I think I mentioned before, Lucas is my guardian angel at the school. He is the one who reaches out to me when I am feeling a little down. Interestingly enough, yesterday when we were talking about his English, he called me HIS guardian angel. He typically introduces me as "mi mejor amiga," my best friend.
Ligia is my charming challenge-full of energy and mischief and very bright. She's 19.
Rafa with prospective students
Rafa - My favorite teacher, student, and colleague. He is truly a gift.
Teachers - Elena during the break
Elena and I have a developing and very special relationship. At the beginning, she was one of the few teachers who wouldn't talk with me, and I assumed she didn't like me. I finally asked her what was going on, and she said she was very shy. Once we started talking, we kept going, and I knew we were on the right path when she told me about her sick son, in English! She is a dedicated and hardworking student.Break time at the school - Chona
This is Chona, the wonderful woman who comes twice a day to sell us food at incredibly cheap prices. We can buy banana bread, tamales, tortillas, and other local delicacies.
It is always a pleasure to greet her a break time.
It is always a pleasure to greet her a break time.Friday, July 18
I am on my countdown to return to the US - less than five weeks now. At this point I am again feeling that I don't want to return, although my advisor has suggested that it will be easier to finish my degree in MN. It has been a wonderful week at the school. Last night I finished teaching my second week of classes and have had 100% attendance both weeks. The administration is very impressed, and so I am, given how busy the teachers are. Rafa and I have had a wonderful week of class together talking about grammar. It is a language teacher's dream. Yesterday and today we spent a total of about four hours discussing the difference between "should," "have to," "must," and "need to," in Spanish. He drew charts to distinguish different aspects of each verb and then asked me for examples. I am so impressed with his intellectual curiosity and capability, and I still feel I am very lucky to have a found a teacher with whom I can discuss so many topics and with such enthusiasm. Today we talked about the three classes I am teaching and made some asjustments. It is great to have a colleague with whom I can discuss my work; I have never had this before, and feel that I am in a teacher's paradise.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Musings from San Pedro - Saturday, July 12
I am having deep existential thoughts today or perhaps silly ones. What makes us happy? What makes us unhappy? How much control do we have over how we feel? How much does our environment matter?
After a couple weeks of illness and chaos and doubts and seriously disliking Guatemala, I have come to another balance today and feel very content to be here. I will try to remember that I may feel differently tomorrow or even in a couple of hours.
It is occurring to me how much I need small rituals in my life, especially in this situation where I have no real home in the traditional sense. I am back on the deck of the Mikaso Hotel, where I can get unlimited internet access for the price of a drink. I come here every day now to write and think and look and will bring my camera so I can share photos of this unbelievably beautiful view of the mountains and lake. I have met the employees here. Manu (sp?), the manager, is from Spain and has asked me for English classes. I will probably say no for lack of time, but I said I'd get back to him on Monday. The waitresses, Sandra and Sonia, are sisters. Tdoay I met Sandra for the first time and had a lovely talk. About a half hour later I asked her about the drink I had ordered, and she laughingly said she had forgotten. These kinds of exchanges are funny for me because I am the only person she has to serve, but why be upset? I have plenty of time.
I have been going to bed at 9:00 and waking up at 5:00 now that I have most of my energy back. The last three mornings I have gone down to el embarcadero for coffee and breakfast. Las lanchas still fascinate me. Today I saw one of the pilots crossing himself before he took off across the lake. It makes me happy to see the boats and to be on them. The only boats on the lake are the lanchas, the dugout canoes of the fishermen who catch fish and crab, and the occasional kayak. In the mroning, some of the fishermen, after cleaning their boats, strip down to swim trunks and jump in the lake for a bath. the baots have names like Huracan, Relampago, El Viejo, Manuelita...
Coming back from el embarcadero, I stopped at the school. I also find someone to talk with. Today I brought Selvin coffee from the local internet cafe, and we talked about his mother, who is very ill. Manuela told me about her children, Javier and I talked about his progress in English, Elijio and I chatted for a few minutes during his morning break...
This week I have been realizing that most of the teachers really have very little formal education or training, which makes it hard to have more than very simple conversations in English. I try to encourage them as much as I can, but the reality is that most of our communication is in Spanish because it tires them to speak English. I am learning more and more about them and their lives and realize that I have a growing role here as confidante to some of them. They are beginning to tell me of their lives, their dreams, their gaols, their frustrations, their fears and concerns, often in English.
Today it was funny not to go to La U. I miss the students there but realize how much I needed the break from that long day. I am so happy to have some time to reflect and think and walk and talk... It has been an unbelievably beautiful day with more sun than we have seen in weeks and a fresh breeze coming across the lake. Most days we budnle up here, so it is noce to have only a light jacket which I need just because I am in the shade.
Cynthia, the woman I rent from, and I are becoming friends. She has a lovely dog named Shadow she rescued and a crazy kitten who is queen of our courtyard. Unfortunately Shadow is sick, and Cynthia is afraid he has distemper since he was not vaccinated and is acting sick. She is in a nearby village today where she is building a house, so I am checking in on Shadow periodically and hoping for the best... It doesn't look good.
After a couple weeks of illness and chaos and doubts and seriously disliking Guatemala, I have come to another balance today and feel very content to be here. I will try to remember that I may feel differently tomorrow or even in a couple of hours.
It is occurring to me how much I need small rituals in my life, especially in this situation where I have no real home in the traditional sense. I am back on the deck of the Mikaso Hotel, where I can get unlimited internet access for the price of a drink. I come here every day now to write and think and look and will bring my camera so I can share photos of this unbelievably beautiful view of the mountains and lake. I have met the employees here. Manu (sp?), the manager, is from Spain and has asked me for English classes. I will probably say no for lack of time, but I said I'd get back to him on Monday. The waitresses, Sandra and Sonia, are sisters. Tdoay I met Sandra for the first time and had a lovely talk. About a half hour later I asked her about the drink I had ordered, and she laughingly said she had forgotten. These kinds of exchanges are funny for me because I am the only person she has to serve, but why be upset? I have plenty of time.
I have been going to bed at 9:00 and waking up at 5:00 now that I have most of my energy back. The last three mornings I have gone down to el embarcadero for coffee and breakfast. Las lanchas still fascinate me. Today I saw one of the pilots crossing himself before he took off across the lake. It makes me happy to see the boats and to be on them. The only boats on the lake are the lanchas, the dugout canoes of the fishermen who catch fish and crab, and the occasional kayak. In the mroning, some of the fishermen, after cleaning their boats, strip down to swim trunks and jump in the lake for a bath. the baots have names like Huracan, Relampago, El Viejo, Manuelita...
Coming back from el embarcadero, I stopped at the school. I also find someone to talk with. Today I brought Selvin coffee from the local internet cafe, and we talked about his mother, who is very ill. Manuela told me about her children, Javier and I talked about his progress in English, Elijio and I chatted for a few minutes during his morning break...
This week I have been realizing that most of the teachers really have very little formal education or training, which makes it hard to have more than very simple conversations in English. I try to encourage them as much as I can, but the reality is that most of our communication is in Spanish because it tires them to speak English. I am learning more and more about them and their lives and realize that I have a growing role here as confidante to some of them. They are beginning to tell me of their lives, their dreams, their gaols, their frustrations, their fears and concerns, often in English.
Today it was funny not to go to La U. I miss the students there but realize how much I needed the break from that long day. I am so happy to have some time to reflect and think and walk and talk... It has been an unbelievably beautiful day with more sun than we have seen in weeks and a fresh breeze coming across the lake. Most days we budnle up here, so it is noce to have only a light jacket which I need just because I am in the shade.
Cynthia, the woman I rent from, and I are becoming friends. She has a lovely dog named Shadow she rescued and a crazy kitten who is queen of our courtyard. Unfortunately Shadow is sick, and Cynthia is afraid he has distemper since he was not vaccinated and is acting sick. She is in a nearby village today where she is building a house, so I am checking in on Shadow periodically and hoping for the best... It doesn't look good.
Niko y Francisco (Chaquillo)
Two of my favorite teachers! As far as I am concerned, Niko (left) has one of the most beautiful smiles in the world. He's the teacher I had a run-in with the first day, and since then I have made a point of mending fences with him, to good result. He is one of the best English speakers in the school and also the salsa teacher. I am may get up the nerve to ask him for lessons one day before I leave. Chaquillo, not to be confused with the other Francisso, gave me my first motorcycle ride in years the other day. It's interesting to me that the streets around the school are too narrow for tuc-tucs or cars, but motorcycles are allowed.
Omar
Omar is one of my favorite teachers. Did we see a theme here? He is very sweet and always interested in learning more English. This morning I went to el embarcadero (the dock) for breakfast and ran into him on his way to teach in San Marcos. We had a lovely talk, mostly in Spanish but with a few English questions sprinkled in.Estela
Estela is the first teacher I met when I arrived in San Marcos five weeks ago. We have not gotten to know each other very well because she oftens teaches in San Marcos rather than San Pedro. She is a very active and involved student of English and has a great desire to learn and work. She, along with all the other maestras, wears the traditional dress of the village.Selvin
This is Selvin, the "receptionista" in the Spanish school. His title is quite misleading because he is part of the management of three, along with Ramón (the owner) and Rafa (my teacher and the human resources director). Selvin also scrubs the floors, schedules the classes, registers the students, cleans the bathrooms, makes the coffee, and generally takes care of all of us. Selvin and I have many good conversations, mostly in Spanish, although we also try to meet every morning at 7:00 to study English. He is one of my (many) favorite people at the school, and he just told me this morning that one of my other (many) favorite teachers, Julio, is his brother.Friday, July 11, 2008
Friday, July 11
This has been one crazy week. I have still been fighting a bad cough which is finally resolving and didn't realize until midweek, with as always invaluable insights from my friend Steve, that I have been so exhausted that I have barely been able to put foot in front of the other. I did a lot of talking with him on my dirt cheap Guatemalteco cell phone with my dirt cheap minutes and have had several good conversations with people here as well.
Several things blew up/resolved this week. On a hunch I sent an e-mail to the new contact person at La U (after two people in a row went back to the States) asking about my pay. Turns out she thought I was volunteering my time to travel four hours and teach four hours every Saturday. There is no money to pay me, so she thanked me for my time, and my stint as a teacher trainer is over. If I weren't so exhausted, I would have considered continuing without pay, but I just don't have the energy. Honestly, the biggest factor was how to get up there some way other than in a chicken bus or in the back of a pickup truck through the mountains. This week I talked with the man who took Cristina back to the airport, and he said two chicken bus drivers were playing chicken around the curves when one driver lost and went over the cliff with his load of passengers.
It is "interesting" to sort out the limits of what I am willing to accept here. I have decided, and promised several friends and my daughter, that my chicken bus days are over. I have finally given up on washing my own clothes, at least mostly, and am paying 4Q/pound (7.some Q per dollar) to have them done for me. Then there is life as it unfolds. I had breakfast at a local restaurant yesterday and got my eggs and beans and bread (a hamburger bun) but no cheese as promised. Turns out the cheese wasn't delivered this week "por la lluvia," which continues to keep us all soggy and a little down. A friend and I had lunch in San Marcos today, but the owner had no change, so paying the bill was a little complicated. It's not unusual to go to a restaurant and discover that over half the items are not available or, as happened today in San Marcos, as far as I could figure, there was no food because the cook had left early. However, the waiter warmly welcomed us to come back any time, and it was a very beautiful restuarant, even with no food.
This week was the first time I thought about packing it up and going back to MN five weeks early. I had a series of frustrating exchanges at the language school after I had broached staying longer (something that is no longer an option, at least at this moment). The two administrators ohter than the owner suggested that we get the classes going before they decided whether it was worth keeping me around. I finally had a long talk with one of them yesterday, during which time I pointed out that I had already proved my worth, as evidenced by the number of English conversations I am generating with the Spanish teachers. I finally realized this week that I can determine my own value as a teacher and don't have to rely on other people's opinions. There does not appear to be a real commitment at the school to get a good English program underway despite my best efforts, and so I am concentrating on the teachers and working with them as best I can given their time constraints.
Today I took the day off from my Spanish classes, feeling that I was at the end of my energy in that regard as well. It was good to have a free day. I plan to spend the weekend away from the school until Sunday when I teach my next class, writing and reflecting and setting goals for the next five weeks.
Several things blew up/resolved this week. On a hunch I sent an e-mail to the new contact person at La U (after two people in a row went back to the States) asking about my pay. Turns out she thought I was volunteering my time to travel four hours and teach four hours every Saturday. There is no money to pay me, so she thanked me for my time, and my stint as a teacher trainer is over. If I weren't so exhausted, I would have considered continuing without pay, but I just don't have the energy. Honestly, the biggest factor was how to get up there some way other than in a chicken bus or in the back of a pickup truck through the mountains. This week I talked with the man who took Cristina back to the airport, and he said two chicken bus drivers were playing chicken around the curves when one driver lost and went over the cliff with his load of passengers.
It is "interesting" to sort out the limits of what I am willing to accept here. I have decided, and promised several friends and my daughter, that my chicken bus days are over. I have finally given up on washing my own clothes, at least mostly, and am paying 4Q/pound (7.some Q per dollar) to have them done for me. Then there is life as it unfolds. I had breakfast at a local restaurant yesterday and got my eggs and beans and bread (a hamburger bun) but no cheese as promised. Turns out the cheese wasn't delivered this week "por la lluvia," which continues to keep us all soggy and a little down. A friend and I had lunch in San Marcos today, but the owner had no change, so paying the bill was a little complicated. It's not unusual to go to a restaurant and discover that over half the items are not available or, as happened today in San Marcos, as far as I could figure, there was no food because the cook had left early. However, the waiter warmly welcomed us to come back any time, and it was a very beautiful restuarant, even with no food.
This week was the first time I thought about packing it up and going back to MN five weeks early. I had a series of frustrating exchanges at the language school after I had broached staying longer (something that is no longer an option, at least at this moment). The two administrators ohter than the owner suggested that we get the classes going before they decided whether it was worth keeping me around. I finally had a long talk with one of them yesterday, during which time I pointed out that I had already proved my worth, as evidenced by the number of English conversations I am generating with the Spanish teachers. I finally realized this week that I can determine my own value as a teacher and don't have to rely on other people's opinions. There does not appear to be a real commitment at the school to get a good English program underway despite my best efforts, and so I am concentrating on the teachers and working with them as best I can given their time constraints.
Today I took the day off from my Spanish classes, feeling that I was at the end of my energy in that regard as well. It was good to have a free day. I plan to spend the weekend away from the school until Sunday when I teach my next class, writing and reflecting and setting goals for the next five weeks.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Monday, July 7
This past week I continued to be sick, to the point that a doctor came to see me last Tuesday. He diagnosed a case of Giardea, which explained the 10 days of intestinal problems, as well as a case of grippe. I still have a cough but am doing much better. Many of the teachers at the school have been sick at one point or another in the past month. The weather is pretty nasty right now; we mostly have clouds and rain with very intermittent sun, and it feels almost impossible to get warm and dry. There has also been a festval in the town spanning two weekends, and even if the teachers don't go, they are kept awake until past 2:00 in the morning by the festivities. Fireworks go off at all hours, and bands play until 4:00am. It should be over today.
I am having one of the culture bumps I am so good at explaining to my students. At this moment I am less thrilled with Guatemala than I have been, and I feel lonely ansd unsettled. I realize that a great part of it is not feeling well yet; I get tired easily and can't walk very far, nor can I concentrate very well. I also feel very betwixt and between - neither a student nor a teacher completely.
However, there are still lovely times. When Cristina came, she brought a copy of PEACE IS EVERY STEP by Thich Nhat Hanh. Rafa ansd I are reading it together for his English lesson, and so I have a daily reminder of the importance of valuing every moment. Today in the Spanish part of our class, I talked with him about my feelings of loneliness and separateness, and he suggested that I use this time to learn to be with myself. Even though he and I have very different life circumstances, we are both working with questions of innner peace, and it is a gift to have him to talk with. In addition, we continue to have remarkable discusssions about language teaching and teacher education and training. I had never imagined that I would have this kind of rich exchange with another teacher, and I feel very blessed for this time with him and with other teachers at the school.
Right now I am sitting in the third floor restaurant of a beautiful hotel around the corner from my new home. I am the only customer, and for 5Q (under $1), I have ordered tea and may sit here as long as I want enjoying the view and the internet connection. The tea came in a wooden box, and I made my choice. It is a foggy early evening, and I can look out over the town and the lake. The view is indescribably beautiful, and I realize in this moment that I am choosing to be alone and a bit lonely.
I have moved, and my new home is snug and warm. I have my own bathroom (What a luxury!) and a shower with hot water. What a luxury! Yesterday I bought vegetables and made a soup. I am eating lots of yogurt to encourage my intestinal flora to return.
Cristina e-mailed earlier to tell me that on her way back to the airport in a private shuttle, she and the driver saw a chicken bus ahead of them go off a cliff. The driver told her that no one would have survived the crash. It is a (not good) sign of my acceptance of life here that my first reaction was, "I'm not surprised." I do have to wonder what it is like for the families of those on the bus to go on after such a common tragedy. Life is so different here...
We have finally cobbled together a schedule of classes. I will be teaching three groups of six - eight teachers in each group one class a week. This is not an ideal schedule but all that we work out given how full the school is. Almost all the teachers are working morning and afternoon at this point, and it will be interesting to see how much energy nthey have.
I am having one of the culture bumps I am so good at explaining to my students. At this moment I am less thrilled with Guatemala than I have been, and I feel lonely ansd unsettled. I realize that a great part of it is not feeling well yet; I get tired easily and can't walk very far, nor can I concentrate very well. I also feel very betwixt and between - neither a student nor a teacher completely.
However, there are still lovely times. When Cristina came, she brought a copy of PEACE IS EVERY STEP by Thich Nhat Hanh. Rafa ansd I are reading it together for his English lesson, and so I have a daily reminder of the importance of valuing every moment. Today in the Spanish part of our class, I talked with him about my feelings of loneliness and separateness, and he suggested that I use this time to learn to be with myself. Even though he and I have very different life circumstances, we are both working with questions of innner peace, and it is a gift to have him to talk with. In addition, we continue to have remarkable discusssions about language teaching and teacher education and training. I had never imagined that I would have this kind of rich exchange with another teacher, and I feel very blessed for this time with him and with other teachers at the school.
Right now I am sitting in the third floor restaurant of a beautiful hotel around the corner from my new home. I am the only customer, and for 5Q (under $1), I have ordered tea and may sit here as long as I want enjoying the view and the internet connection. The tea came in a wooden box, and I made my choice. It is a foggy early evening, and I can look out over the town and the lake. The view is indescribably beautiful, and I realize in this moment that I am choosing to be alone and a bit lonely.
I have moved, and my new home is snug and warm. I have my own bathroom (What a luxury!) and a shower with hot water. What a luxury! Yesterday I bought vegetables and made a soup. I am eating lots of yogurt to encourage my intestinal flora to return.
Cristina e-mailed earlier to tell me that on her way back to the airport in a private shuttle, she and the driver saw a chicken bus ahead of them go off a cliff. The driver told her that no one would have survived the crash. It is a (not good) sign of my acceptance of life here that my first reaction was, "I'm not surprised." I do have to wonder what it is like for the families of those on the bus to go on after such a common tragedy. Life is so different here...
We have finally cobbled together a schedule of classes. I will be teaching three groups of six - eight teachers in each group one class a week. This is not an ideal schedule but all that we work out given how full the school is. Almost all the teachers are working morning and afternoon at this point, and it will be interesting to see how much energy nthey have.
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