It's been raining a lot here. So much so that during the night the thunderstorms will shake the house and cut the power. When that happens, the fans stop working. When the fans stop working, sleep stops happening. While the rain does make everything here cooler and more bearable, it also drastically increases the number of mosquitoes everywhere. For someone who hates bug spray but gets thoroughly bitten, these mosquitoes are an issue.
It's very fair to say that I miss fall.
It was a real long week at school. Long because it was the first full week we'd had in a while. But I'm finally getting comfortable enough to get more creative with my lessons. For our shapes review in Prepa this week, I made sugar cookie dough for the kids, which they used to model triangles and squares. To practice circles I brought in bubble wands and the kids ran around outside blowing bubbles, which they absolutely loved. Tomorrow we will be making Letter M Monsters.
All of a sudden, second grade got really cooperative at the beginning of this past week. The second half of the week wasn't as incredible, but I got a lot of hope on Monday and Tuesday when I saw that the kids were actually learning from my lesson plans. The week, however, still had its share of interesting moments. On Wednesday, as the kids were answering reading comprehension questions, one of my students announced to me that he cannot read. This wasn't as surprising as it should have been, given that this seems to be the vibe I'm getting from a significant portion of the class. On Thursday during PE, I looked over to see two boys eight feet in the air, climbing up some random poles stuck in the yard. On Friday, I realized that two students had simply left the room after finishing their quiz. I went outside to look for them and could not find either boy anywhere around the school yard. As I was explaining to a volunteer that I had lost two of my students, he spotted them coming out of the bathroom together, along with a third student of mine. Apparently I'd lost three. I think I get teacher points for that?
Today the refrigerator repairman came at Amanda's request. Turns out all the coils and wiring in the fridge and freezer were iced over, apparently preventing the fridge from getting cold, while the freezer interior snowed. So after thawing our entire freezer with Amanda's hairdryer, the repairman unscrewed everything, reassembled it all, and swept the large pond of water that had collected on the kitchen floor out the door.
Liz and I have been baking bread. We've made three loaves in the last week, plus bagels yesterday. We even splurged for cream cheese. Since good bread products aren't a thing here, this has all been a super welcome addition to our diet of beans and cheap produce. There's just one thing that makes this more exciting: at home I have never baked a loaf of bread that has succeeded in rising. But here my bread not only rises, but also has perfect texture and consistency. And this, even though we bake in a toaster oven that always takes almost double the baking time of any recipe.
I think a new normal is beginning to take some shape. Thanks to the constant surprises that I encounter here, I don't think I'll ever discover what exactly my new normal means. But I'm completely okay with that - it's what I signed up for. So I'm just going to keep right on teaching and cooking and getting to know these kids. Tuesday I'll begin tutoring the second grader who told me that he can't read. I'm definitely going to keep on being surprised day after day.
Sunday, September 28, 2014
Sunday, September 21, 2014
Two Days of Teaching + One Saturday Morning
Two full days of school this week were more than enough to exhaust me after a five day break.
Thursday morning, as usual, I headed to Prepa (the Honduran name for kindergarten.) I was trying to squeeze an entire week of curriculum into two days, so everything was going to be pretty real. The kids were fairly energized after five entire days of vacation. My objectives for Prepa on Thursday were to learn the letter 'S' and to learn the words and concepts of "mother," "father," "sister," and "brother." But before we could begin class, I had created an entirely new seating arrangement for the students. I honestly spent about 40 minutes planning it out. The kids had gotten really antsy and loud and I was hoping that mixing everyone up at each table would help in that respect. Anyway, by the time they were all situated in their new spots, they were all talking and playing and fighting just as much as usual and all I could do was hope that they would remember their new seating assignments.
Because we were fitting all the week's content into two days, I had decided to do three learning stations, instead of the usual one or two - this meant that my two aids and I were all teaching simultaneously, rather than me teaching one station while they supervised and controlled the children at each other station. Dulce, who speaks English, was helping the kids at her station draw pictures of things that started with letter 'S' around an outline that I had drawn of the letter in each and every student's English notebook. Isis, my aid who does not speak English (also the aid who hot-glued the posters to the wall,) was working with the kids to trace the letter 'S' on a worksheet. And I was showing my station two photos of my family, one from this summer and one from almost ten years ago. Using my family as a visual, I taught the kids "mother," "father," "sister," and "brother," and they loved seeing pictures of my family. The thing is, I wasn't sure whether or not this lesson would work. But it completely did. And they got what I was teaching them, which felt wonderful. I told them the names of all my family members and all the kids got super excited when I told them that "brother" is named Jeremy, because there is also a student in the Prepa class named Jeremy. The only complication in the whole matter was when I tried to teach them "sister," because I have none. I explained that I was the sister in the family, the sister of Jeremy. But they know me as Miss Eliza, not as "sister," so that was a bit rough. But I'm still beyond thrilled at the success of the lesson.
Thursday afternoon meant second grade. I teach second grade English for two periods every afternoon, but on Thursdays I teach them Science for one period and Physical Education for the other. One of the other volunteers who usually teaches them science writes the lesson plan and I try to execute it. They were learning about the mouth and had to glue 32 teeth to a drawing they had made - 16 on top, 16 on bottom. The concept of the number of teeth, however, was extremely difficult for the rowdy second graders to grasp. We ended up having to pull many teeth off their construction paper mouths, which ended up with very lopsided dentistry. By the time the period was over, I was ready to get them out of the crazy-hot classroom and ready to play the subject pronoun running game we hadn't made it to the week before. That was going to be the first half of PE, and the second half would be an actual game. Except for the second graders are still so much of a mess that they only made it through 15 minutes of PE before we had to head back to the classroom where we sat and attempted to review vocabulary. I so feel for those kids, and the fact that they have five different teachers only complicates things. I get along with them and they like me, but teaching them is really an uphill battle. For every one of their teachers. It's said that they are currently the worst class at CBS.
By Friday we were learning number three in Prepa and continuing with family. There's this little boy in the class, named Hernan, who is new to the school this year, meaning he has even less English than the other 4 and 5-year-olds. He's super tiny, adorable, and just all over the place all the time. During stations on Friday he'd wander around instead of working at his station. So I decided to just grab him and hold him close next to me while I worked with the other stations. We spend a lot of time around here cuddling the little ones and not worrying about contracting lice. When he got bored of hanging out with me he simply wandered back to his table. It worked very nicely, and honestly, I really do think I'm catching him up. The only other thing of note during Friday morning was when a boy told me he had to go "poopoo." So I told him to go to the bathroom. He just stood there and repeated that he had to go "poopoo." I again said that he should go. When he remained in front of me, I asked him if he could go by himself or if he needed help. He needed help. And that's how I learned that my kindergarten children are not fully potty-ready. Joy.
Second grade on Friday got off to a real rocky start. One of the volunteers who had been teaching them before lunch gave the entire class lunch detention. This meant that when I went into the room during lunchtime to arrange the desks into stations, I couldn't, as the room was full of students. It also meant that when lunch was over and class had begun, every single student had to use the bathroom. So that was fun. Even more fun were the twelve minutes of absolutely deafening noise that the students took to arrange their own desks into stations. And by the end of the two periods I had realized that the kids were not getting much of anything out of what I was trying to teach them. Which is pretty concerning.
Saturday morning was interesting. We had an 8am meeting with the Honduran administration and teachers. When we all stumbled into school together, the three male volunteers showing up 25 minutes late, we sat down to a very Honduran meeting. For three and a half hours, the Hondurans talked back and forth, heatedly discussing their grievances and issues with the school and its systems. We then took a short break for breakfast and Coca-Cola, set up a ridiculous student council system for ourselves, and resumed the debating. I was put on the "environment" committee; whether that means natural environment, school atmosphere, or fun planning, we have no idea whatsoever. I've been told that this crazy "student council" is set up each year for all the teachers and doesn't mean a thing. After three and a half hours we all headed back home and back to bed.
So that was school for this week. Teaching is freaking me out. And I've got so much to learn before I'll begin to feel even the tiniest bit of confidence in what I'm currently doing.
Thursday morning, as usual, I headed to Prepa (the Honduran name for kindergarten.) I was trying to squeeze an entire week of curriculum into two days, so everything was going to be pretty real. The kids were fairly energized after five entire days of vacation. My objectives for Prepa on Thursday were to learn the letter 'S' and to learn the words and concepts of "mother," "father," "sister," and "brother." But before we could begin class, I had created an entirely new seating arrangement for the students. I honestly spent about 40 minutes planning it out. The kids had gotten really antsy and loud and I was hoping that mixing everyone up at each table would help in that respect. Anyway, by the time they were all situated in their new spots, they were all talking and playing and fighting just as much as usual and all I could do was hope that they would remember their new seating assignments.
Because we were fitting all the week's content into two days, I had decided to do three learning stations, instead of the usual one or two - this meant that my two aids and I were all teaching simultaneously, rather than me teaching one station while they supervised and controlled the children at each other station. Dulce, who speaks English, was helping the kids at her station draw pictures of things that started with letter 'S' around an outline that I had drawn of the letter in each and every student's English notebook. Isis, my aid who does not speak English (also the aid who hot-glued the posters to the wall,) was working with the kids to trace the letter 'S' on a worksheet. And I was showing my station two photos of my family, one from this summer and one from almost ten years ago. Using my family as a visual, I taught the kids "mother," "father," "sister," and "brother," and they loved seeing pictures of my family. The thing is, I wasn't sure whether or not this lesson would work. But it completely did. And they got what I was teaching them, which felt wonderful. I told them the names of all my family members and all the kids got super excited when I told them that "brother" is named Jeremy, because there is also a student in the Prepa class named Jeremy. The only complication in the whole matter was when I tried to teach them "sister," because I have none. I explained that I was the sister in the family, the sister of Jeremy. But they know me as Miss Eliza, not as "sister," so that was a bit rough. But I'm still beyond thrilled at the success of the lesson.
Thursday afternoon meant second grade. I teach second grade English for two periods every afternoon, but on Thursdays I teach them Science for one period and Physical Education for the other. One of the other volunteers who usually teaches them science writes the lesson plan and I try to execute it. They were learning about the mouth and had to glue 32 teeth to a drawing they had made - 16 on top, 16 on bottom. The concept of the number of teeth, however, was extremely difficult for the rowdy second graders to grasp. We ended up having to pull many teeth off their construction paper mouths, which ended up with very lopsided dentistry. By the time the period was over, I was ready to get them out of the crazy-hot classroom and ready to play the subject pronoun running game we hadn't made it to the week before. That was going to be the first half of PE, and the second half would be an actual game. Except for the second graders are still so much of a mess that they only made it through 15 minutes of PE before we had to head back to the classroom where we sat and attempted to review vocabulary. I so feel for those kids, and the fact that they have five different teachers only complicates things. I get along with them and they like me, but teaching them is really an uphill battle. For every one of their teachers. It's said that they are currently the worst class at CBS.
By Friday we were learning number three in Prepa and continuing with family. There's this little boy in the class, named Hernan, who is new to the school this year, meaning he has even less English than the other 4 and 5-year-olds. He's super tiny, adorable, and just all over the place all the time. During stations on Friday he'd wander around instead of working at his station. So I decided to just grab him and hold him close next to me while I worked with the other stations. We spend a lot of time around here cuddling the little ones and not worrying about contracting lice. When he got bored of hanging out with me he simply wandered back to his table. It worked very nicely, and honestly, I really do think I'm catching him up. The only other thing of note during Friday morning was when a boy told me he had to go "poopoo." So I told him to go to the bathroom. He just stood there and repeated that he had to go "poopoo." I again said that he should go. When he remained in front of me, I asked him if he could go by himself or if he needed help. He needed help. And that's how I learned that my kindergarten children are not fully potty-ready. Joy.
Second grade on Friday got off to a real rocky start. One of the volunteers who had been teaching them before lunch gave the entire class lunch detention. This meant that when I went into the room during lunchtime to arrange the desks into stations, I couldn't, as the room was full of students. It also meant that when lunch was over and class had begun, every single student had to use the bathroom. So that was fun. Even more fun were the twelve minutes of absolutely deafening noise that the students took to arrange their own desks into stations. And by the end of the two periods I had realized that the kids were not getting much of anything out of what I was trying to teach them. Which is pretty concerning.
Saturday morning was interesting. We had an 8am meeting with the Honduran administration and teachers. When we all stumbled into school together, the three male volunteers showing up 25 minutes late, we sat down to a very Honduran meeting. For three and a half hours, the Hondurans talked back and forth, heatedly discussing their grievances and issues with the school and its systems. We then took a short break for breakfast and Coca-Cola, set up a ridiculous student council system for ourselves, and resumed the debating. I was put on the "environment" committee; whether that means natural environment, school atmosphere, or fun planning, we have no idea whatsoever. I've been told that this crazy "student council" is set up each year for all the teachers and doesn't mean a thing. After three and a half hours we all headed back home and back to bed.
So that was school for this week. Teaching is freaking me out. And I've got so much to learn before I'll begin to feel even the tiniest bit of confidence in what I'm currently doing.
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Eating my way through Copán Ruinas
I spent large periods of time this week carefully putting extreme amounts of poster putty on the back of all my classroom materials so that I could hang them on the (supposedly freshly-painted) walls. I had been specifically asked to bring down poster putty before I arrived, so I came very much prepared. I managed to get all the materials hung up, especially because the heat here only made the putty stickier. On Friday, Isis, one of my aids in the kindergarten room was hanging something up for the Honduran Spanish teacher, Miss Betty. I asked her if she wanted to use my poster putty, but she just shook her head and pulled out a hot glue gun. She explained that we wouldn't use a lot of hot glue because Miss Betty would get mad, but that it would really just be easier to hot glue the two posters to the wall. I'm still in a bit of disbelief over that.
After lunch we grabbed a moto taxi and headed to the ruins. Upon entering and passing through a heavy-duty fence and guard station that we joked was basically Honduran customs and immigration, we saw a sign that read "do not feed the macaws." We thought this was great and extremely fitting for Honduras, until we actually saw the macaws. They were absolutely stunning; bright red, yellow, and blue. They were everywhere, and seeing them soar in pairs across the temple ruins from enormous tree to enormous tree was unbelievable. Occasionally they would fly low and tourists would have to duck to avoid collisions.
The ruins were fantastic. I've seen a lot of ruins in my life, mostly in Mexico, but also in Guatemala. But I'd forgotten how cool ruins actually are. The idea that these structures are almost 1500 years old and represent an entire civilization is awe-inspiring. And since we are in Central America and liability is not ever of major concern, one can climb all over the ruins, exploring them and walking over these ancient structures. All three of us were blown away. The defining factor of the Copán ruins is the intricate and geometric designs and hieroglyphics. That, I had definitely never seen before.
Monday was Independence Day. Despite an obnoxious car alarm outside our window all night long, a marching band, and screaming children, we got up early and headed towards the square. Liz and I split an omelette and Amanda and I split a piece of German chocolate cake. All was delicious. We then walked into the square where Hondurans were dressed in elaborate costumes or school uniforms. There was loud music playing, people everywhere, and a parade of each school in the area was making its way around the city.
When we arrived at the hot springs, only a little bit nauseous, we were blown away. I'm not sure I can really describe it. For one, by then it was pouring. We were given a short tour of the hot springs and natural pools that had been created, and were soon drenched. It looked the way I imagine a luxury jungle spa would look. There were small pools of varying temperatures everywhere, all constructed by man, but done in a beautiful and natural way with lovely stones and rocks and paths. And the trees and vines surrounding everything were lush and untamed. It was incredible. Until the very end, we were the only people there. The rain made everything more beautiful and the steam rising into the jungle was pretty much magical.
But now it's the weekend - a five day weekend. Seven of us volunteers hit the road and went to Copán Ruinas, a small town famous for ancient Mayan ruins and a beautiful setting. First, though, the bus ride here. One word for it would be interesting. We waited in Cofradía for 40 minutes for the bus to show and then climbed aboard this tiny busito, a little bus similar to the van we ride to school every day. But when we got onto the busito, it was already completely full. So full that I was literally standing with my back against the door that we'd had trouble closing. So that was interesting. Also interesting was going over all the potholes and curves in the road, while we stood and attempted to maintain balance. Even more interesting was standing for the first two hours of the ride, occasionally alternating with a volunteer who had managed to secure a seat on the ground whenever one or two of us got too nauseated. When some people finally got off and we secured seats, the potholes and speed bumps were just as fun. However, I was then able see out the window and I am still utterly astounded at the beauty of this country. The rolling hills, incredible vegetation, cows everywhere, lush farmland, and stark contrast between immense poverty and money. Before coming here I truly had no idea this was the image of the country I'd find.
Upon arrival in Copán we headed to a hostal where five of us piled into one room with two double beds and a set of bunk beds. Copán is sort of in a valley, and it was truly gorgeous. The hostal was cute and had a fairly clean pool as well as a covered rooftop garden. And with Independence Day on Monday, the streets were decked out with blue and white flags.
Two of the volunteers who had already been here described the food as one of the selling points of Copán - you can get food that's not just Honduran. I, loving food more than a lot of other things in life, was super into this idea. Shortly after our arrival, I got some curried roasted potatoes for lunch, and then shared a piece of apple pie with Amanda. I readily admitted that I planned to spend my weekend eating, and was just a little too excited about that.
I'm really really into food. And the fact of the matter is, in the United States we are able to take all our culinary options a bit for granted. So being in a place where I could choose the cuisine that I wanted over beans or something fried for every meal was a big deal.
Sunday morning Liz and I got up and headed out to find breakfast. The town was alive and full of tourists and delicious-smelling food. We each got a pineapple mango smoothie and then met up with Amanda. The three of us headed to a coffee shop, where Amanda and I split an Argentinian cookie with dulce de leche filling. It was great, especially because there isn't really dessert in Cofradía and I was beginning to go into baked good withdrawal. As we sat in the coffee shop, we talked about how much we like Copán. And how guilty we feel about that. Because Copán isn't truly the identity of Honduras. It is a nice, touristy town, that felt borderline European. And it was truly wonderful for a long weekend - to be able to visit a place where safety wasn't a primary concern, where delicious, quality food of any variety could be purchased, where there were things going on all the time, where white people weren't stared at along every street.
Before heading to visit the ruins, we had to get lunch. We waited for 25 minutes at an upscale cafe to order sandwiches, only to finally learn that their fresh bread would not be cool enough for sandwich-making for an hour. However, as it turned out, this was the best thing that ever happened to us. We instead walked to a specialty cheese and coffee boutique. This was pretty exciting as cheese is neither great nor very accessible in Cofradía or Honduras. We ordered delicious grilled cheese sandwiches - mine was a chicken pesto mozzarella sandwich - that I know I will dream about for the next month.
After lunch we grabbed a moto taxi and headed to the ruins. Upon entering and passing through a heavy-duty fence and guard station that we joked was basically Honduran customs and immigration, we saw a sign that read "do not feed the macaws." We thought this was great and extremely fitting for Honduras, until we actually saw the macaws. They were absolutely stunning; bright red, yellow, and blue. They were everywhere, and seeing them soar in pairs across the temple ruins from enormous tree to enormous tree was unbelievable. Occasionally they would fly low and tourists would have to duck to avoid collisions.The ruins were fantastic. I've seen a lot of ruins in my life, mostly in Mexico, but also in Guatemala. But I'd forgotten how cool ruins actually are. The idea that these structures are almost 1500 years old and represent an entire civilization is awe-inspiring. And since we are in Central America and liability is not ever of major concern, one can climb all over the ruins, exploring them and walking over these ancient structures. All three of us were blown away. The defining factor of the Copán ruins is the intricate and geometric designs and hieroglyphics. That, I had definitely never seen before.
Archeologists unearthing the Copán ruins had dug a network of tunnels below the structures, to learn about construction techniques. Two of these tunnels were open to tourists - for an additional $15 fee, the same cost as entering the park. Rather than spend $30 to see what is basically exciting ancient rocks, we decided we'd simply stride confidently towards the tunnel entrance. Upon doing so, we were clapped at loudly by some guys. We played dumb, but were still not allowed to enter. It was okay though, because instead Liz and I had our first experience with fire ants.
Monday was Independence Day. Despite an obnoxious car alarm outside our window all night long, a marching band, and screaming children, we got up early and headed towards the square. Liz and I split an omelette and Amanda and I split a piece of German chocolate cake. All was delicious. We then walked into the square where Hondurans were dressed in elaborate costumes or school uniforms. There was loud music playing, people everywhere, and a parade of each school in the area was making its way around the city.
By afternoon it was raining and six of us headed to the hot springs that Amanda had read about online. It was an hour-long drive through the mountains, and the pickup truck only had room for four in the cab. Theresa and I sat in the back of the pickup truck on a soggy mattress. And while the ride and views were astonishing, the drizzling rain and constant stares of Hondurans along our route were loads of fun.
When we arrived at the hot springs, only a little bit nauseous, we were blown away. I'm not sure I can really describe it. For one, by then it was pouring. We were given a short tour of the hot springs and natural pools that had been created, and were soon drenched. It looked the way I imagine a luxury jungle spa would look. There were small pools of varying temperatures everywhere, all constructed by man, but done in a beautiful and natural way with lovely stones and rocks and paths. And the trees and vines surrounding everything were lush and untamed. It was incredible. Until the very end, we were the only people there. The rain made everything more beautiful and the steam rising into the jungle was pretty much magical.
Starving after having only eaten breakfast and cookies, we went out for dinner. I got a Greek gyro platter which was beautifully seasoned. It wasn't actually a Greek gyro platter, but a plate of grilled chicken with pineapple and veggies, alongside homemade "Moroccan" bread, a salad, and three very different but fantastic sauces. Then Amanda and I, of course, had to split a piece of homemade cheesecake smothered in strawberry sauce.
This morning Liz and I got up really early to get breakfast before the 8am bus back to Cofradía. We headed to a local market for papusas and then got coffee. The bus we got was a slightly nicer busito and we all scored seats.
Sitting in the bus, trying to snooze but instead watching the cows and landscape, I realized how happy I am to be here. I realized that I do like Cofradía, and the simplicity of living there. While it was so nice to be in Copán and to be able to spoil myself with delicious and varied food for every meal, I was ready to go home and make a big pot of rice and beans for tonight. I was ready to go grocery shopping and I was ready to sleep in my own bed and I was ready to lesson plan. I really do like my kids. It was so nice being able to take my phone out to take pictures on the streets of Copán, but I've come away from this weekend feeling so refreshed and motivated to jump back into school. And my belly is happy and full.
I'm in Honduras and I still can't believe I'm here. I can't believe that this is for real, that this is my life. That I am in this existence. And I just feel so excited, all over again, that this is what is happening.
This is the gap year I've been waiting for.
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Torches and Exercise and Half-Days
This weekend I cooked my first-ever pot of beans. And they turned out delicious. They were red beans, which I assumed meant that they were kidney beans. I have yet to get that confirmed, though, which means they might be mystery beans. The beans were a very welcome addition to my diet. Unfortunately, though our fridge is set to the highest setting, it doesn't really keep food cold - just moderately cool. This means that everything spoils extremely quickly in the heat and humidity of Honduras. After approximately six meals of great beans, I had to throw out the remainders this morning.
When I was preparing to come to Honduras, I came with the realization that I likely would not be able to maintain my home exercise routines, due to the heat, setting, and scheduling. But on Monday, prompted by other volunteers, I started exercising. A little bit. Monday was a half-day at school, so in the afternoon I went on a run with two volunteers. To put it mildly, it was hot out. We ran through a poorer part of town I hadn't yet seen, across a gorgeous stream, and into a forested agricultural area. It was beautiful. And sort of hot. We ran through the middle of a herd of cows walking down the road, past horses, chickens, and wild dogs. By the time we got back and realized that the house was out of drinking water, the sweat was very real. We bought several bagged waters and tried to cool down for the evening's events.
Monday night was Día de las Antorchas, or Day of the Torches. Hearing of the torch parade, I had asked the other volunteers what it was all about. No one seemed to truly know, and said it was just a celebration of children. I went along with it. Unfortunately, my run from that afternoon was scheduled just a little bit too close to the time of the parade. I showed up at the parade still sweating off my run profusely, despite my cold shower and time spent standing directly in front of my fan.
The torch parade was amazing, and if I hadn't had to steer my children straight along the road, it would have been breath-taking. Every school in Cofradia - and it turns out there are lots more than I thought - attended and carried a different color torch. The littlest students, some of them my own, had trouble carrying their torches. They'd stick their empty arm out in the air to balance themselves, or would simply waver their way down the street. The torches would swing and droop just as much as the kids, and I still can't believe that no one caught on fire, despite dozens of collisions. As the night got darker and darker, the torches appeared brighter and brighter, until the street was illuminated by a parade of torches. I loved it. We plodded pretty slowly along the short parade route, finally reaching the town square where everyone quickly dispersed. I headed to go buy a delicious fried taco filled with chicken and vegetables. Now that I think about it, it was kind of like a Honduran egg roll. Actually, it basically was a huge egg roll.
I found out on Tuesday morning, from Dulce, my Honduran classroom aid, that the parade was about knowledge and learning. The torches represented torches of knowledge and were meant to celebrate the opportunity that children have to learn. Apparently all across Honduras torches were wavering through the streets for Día de las Antorchas. I thought that was fantastic.
But back to the exercising bit. Tuesday night, my roommate, Liz, and I decided we would start doing workout videos in the large empty courtyard of the volunteer house. We set up a Blogilates video next to a fan and proceeded to sweat hard for the next 15 minutes. It was hot, dusty, and the video kept stopping to load on the spotty internet connection. But we loved it and plan to do regular workouts from now on. Next time we'll use speakers so that we can actually hear what Cassey (the instructor) is saying over Liz's unbelievably loud fan. We had planned on yoga tonight but that fell through when we were too exhausted. I'm a little worried about the lack of yoga mats on our concrete courtyard for the future, however.
Today was Día del Niño, or Children's Day. I had been told that the day was mostly about fun, games, and food. It would also be a half-day. I spent the morning decorating the school with balloons and streamers, alongside the Honduran teachers. Students then arrived and the piñatas began. Each grade had a piñata, so throughout the day piñata after piñata was cracked open by each class, producing a wriggling mass of children scrambling on top of one another for the copious amounts of candy. After piñatas came the games and presents. Then the food. Oh the food. A mother of one of my students had made an enormous pot of arroz chino, basically the Honduran take on Chinese fried rice. It was incredible. Accompanied by Pepsi and a white bread roll, this was followed by popsicles and then cake. To top off the event, each student was given a goody bag of candies and then released to run around outside. I can only imagine what tomorrow will bring, what with the sugar crash.
I've been here for almost a week and a half now. And though I'm still not quite sure what I'm doing here, all is okay.
When I was preparing to come to Honduras, I came with the realization that I likely would not be able to maintain my home exercise routines, due to the heat, setting, and scheduling. But on Monday, prompted by other volunteers, I started exercising. A little bit. Monday was a half-day at school, so in the afternoon I went on a run with two volunteers. To put it mildly, it was hot out. We ran through a poorer part of town I hadn't yet seen, across a gorgeous stream, and into a forested agricultural area. It was beautiful. And sort of hot. We ran through the middle of a herd of cows walking down the road, past horses, chickens, and wild dogs. By the time we got back and realized that the house was out of drinking water, the sweat was very real. We bought several bagged waters and tried to cool down for the evening's events.
Monday night was Día de las Antorchas, or Day of the Torches. Hearing of the torch parade, I had asked the other volunteers what it was all about. No one seemed to truly know, and said it was just a celebration of children. I went along with it. Unfortunately, my run from that afternoon was scheduled just a little bit too close to the time of the parade. I showed up at the parade still sweating off my run profusely, despite my cold shower and time spent standing directly in front of my fan.The torch parade was amazing, and if I hadn't had to steer my children straight along the road, it would have been breath-taking. Every school in Cofradia - and it turns out there are lots more than I thought - attended and carried a different color torch. The littlest students, some of them my own, had trouble carrying their torches. They'd stick their empty arm out in the air to balance themselves, or would simply waver their way down the street. The torches would swing and droop just as much as the kids, and I still can't believe that no one caught on fire, despite dozens of collisions. As the night got darker and darker, the torches appeared brighter and brighter, until the street was illuminated by a parade of torches. I loved it. We plodded pretty slowly along the short parade route, finally reaching the town square where everyone quickly dispersed. I headed to go buy a delicious fried taco filled with chicken and vegetables. Now that I think about it, it was kind of like a Honduran egg roll. Actually, it basically was a huge egg roll.I found out on Tuesday morning, from Dulce, my Honduran classroom aid, that the parade was about knowledge and learning. The torches represented torches of knowledge and were meant to celebrate the opportunity that children have to learn. Apparently all across Honduras torches were wavering through the streets for Día de las Antorchas. I thought that was fantastic.
But back to the exercising bit. Tuesday night, my roommate, Liz, and I decided we would start doing workout videos in the large empty courtyard of the volunteer house. We set up a Blogilates video next to a fan and proceeded to sweat hard for the next 15 minutes. It was hot, dusty, and the video kept stopping to load on the spotty internet connection. But we loved it and plan to do regular workouts from now on. Next time we'll use speakers so that we can actually hear what Cassey (the instructor) is saying over Liz's unbelievably loud fan. We had planned on yoga tonight but that fell through when we were too exhausted. I'm a little worried about the lack of yoga mats on our concrete courtyard for the future, however.
Today was Día del Niño, or Children's Day. I had been told that the day was mostly about fun, games, and food. It would also be a half-day. I spent the morning decorating the school with balloons and streamers, alongside the Honduran teachers. Students then arrived and the piñatas began. Each grade had a piñata, so throughout the day piñata after piñata was cracked open by each class, producing a wriggling mass of children scrambling on top of one another for the copious amounts of candy. After piñatas came the games and presents. Then the food. Oh the food. A mother of one of my students had made an enormous pot of arroz chino, basically the Honduran take on Chinese fried rice. It was incredible. Accompanied by Pepsi and a white bread roll, this was followed by popsicles and then cake. To top off the event, each student was given a goody bag of candies and then released to run around outside. I can only imagine what tomorrow will bring, what with the sugar crash.
I've been here for almost a week and a half now. And though I'm still not quite sure what I'm doing here, all is okay.
Thursday, September 4, 2014
There's not a lot of soap at school
And by not a lot, I mean that I haven't seen literally any.
I went to school on Tuesday, the morning after my arrival. I got up at 6am, which wasn't real ideal. My initial impression of school? Crazy - kids running around and yelling and hugging me and touching me and sometimes attempting to speak English. It wasn't bad or anything, but it also wasn't the easiest situation to enter into as a 17-year-old in a completely new country, running on very little sleep. But I have to admit, getting hugs from five-year-olds who didn't even know my name was a little cute.
After having now been at school for three days, I'm getting so much more used to the level of chaos. So far this week I've been teaching with Amanda, who was covering my classes until I got here. And after watching her teach and manage a classroom, and after listening to the volunteers, I've come away with my first major observation on education here: teachers must constantly yell and use extremely loud voices to command the attention of their classrooms. While in part this is due to a cultural response to loud authority, it also owes to the fact that the classrooms here are not built to absorb the sounds of screaming children - rather they amplify the noise. So in order to be heard, one must yell, and the rooms are never ever completely quiet. After teaching both kindergarten and second grade today, my voice was hoarse. However, I am able to see the kindergarteners learning about sunshine versus rain and hot versus cold, which is actually good. The second graders, on the other hand, have no main English teacher, but rather an assortment of teachers covering their classes until another volunteer can come down. They are completely insane and don't seem to be learning a whole lot right now. I tried to teach them about the eye and pupil dilation today and only a few of them grasped the whole "less light, bigger pupils" idea. So if anyone is looking to come volunteer with me, second grade will love you.
But back to the soap issue. It's no secret that I'm sort of a germophobe. I really don't like sharing germs and I really like staying clean. Thus, the whole no soap in the bathrooms or anything is kind of getting to me. Especially with kids all over me all the time. But I've decided it will be good for me, even if only by toughening my immune system.
I think that the bagged drinks will probably also toughen my immune system, along with basically everything I eat ever. The food at school is extremely salty and the meat is somewhat sketchy and unidentifiable. None of the food is by any means bad, it's just not the organic whole grains and vegetables that I have spent 17 years consuming. Plus, the two meals each day at school are free. I am expanding my palate by putting avocado and scrambled eggs (two foods I'm not super into) in the breakfast baleadas, a sort of Honduran burrito. I've heard that baleadas purchased outside of school, as well as other Honduran food, is really good, but I haven't yet ventured out to purchase any dinners. I've also found that most Honduran food is fried, and that there exists no concept of health here.
I, along with the other volunteers, plan to survive on rice, beans, and fresh produce. That's what I can afford to purchase for dinner and it is the cheapest food that exists here. After realizing that I had to begin grocery shopping and cooking for myself, I went to the market and bought a fairly random assortment of food that I felt could sustain me at least for a little while. Somehow I ended up with a large bag of milk, and I really don't like to drink milk. So we'll see how that goes. I've eaten rice, cucumber, and tomato for the last two nights. Tonight I got a little adventurous and added hot sauce as well. I'll learn to make beans this weekend. And I'm really starting to appreciate inventions such as the rice cooker and crock pot that enable me to feel like I know how to cook back home.
Tomorrow I'll start teaching lessons even more on my own. We'll see how that goes. Worst case scenario I'll give up on teaching English grammar and I'll start a school-wide health campaign. It'll be pro-vegetables and anti-germs.
Monday, September 1, 2014
I am in this place
I'm here. But it's not like I'm just here - I really am here.
After sweating my way through the Honduran customs line I found Amanda, the CBS volunteer coordinator, and we hopped into a van. Van might be a grand word for the vehicle we rode for 40 minutes into Cofradía. It was more of a creaky, rusty container on wheels, that happened to hold six lopsided benches. Apparently it's the van that brings us to school every morning and then back to the house every afternoon.
Honduras is beautiful. So much more so than I expected. I'm surrounded by mountains, palm trees and super lush farms. And amidst it all, driving down the road I saw a man peeing, a dead dog, and kids filing in the holes in the road. I am here.
After a sudden stop in a parking lot, my luggage was hauled out of the van. And onto a school bus. We were directed to get onto the bus, as apparently it would take us the rest of the way. The school bus was as much of a bus as the van was a van.
Got to the volunteer house. It has running water. Sort of. When I arrived, the water had already been out for four days and the kitchen was covered in dirty dishes. On a separate note, sounds like the house has rats. Liz, the woman I share a room with, explained that there is a rat that lives in our bathroom, under the shower drain. To solve this issue, there is a drain cover in the shower, that she has never ever removed. And supposedly the water drains sufficiently despite the drain cover. We keep the bathroom door closed. To also keep the cockroaches out of our room.
After sweating and unpacking the crazy amount of stuff Mom had been up all night packing for me, I went with Amanda to the town center. There I had the startling realization that I was now going to have to both grocery shop and cook for myself.
It's hot here. I went to shower, a bit after the water had come back on. But when I turned on the tap, no water came out. I asked Liz if the water was out again, even though the sink ran a slow stream. She explained that the shower is kind of funny - if any other water is running in the house, the shower won't work. I, too, think that is funny.
This is real.
I am here.
After sweating my way through the Honduran customs line I found Amanda, the CBS volunteer coordinator, and we hopped into a van. Van might be a grand word for the vehicle we rode for 40 minutes into Cofradía. It was more of a creaky, rusty container on wheels, that happened to hold six lopsided benches. Apparently it's the van that brings us to school every morning and then back to the house every afternoon.
Honduras is beautiful. So much more so than I expected. I'm surrounded by mountains, palm trees and super lush farms. And amidst it all, driving down the road I saw a man peeing, a dead dog, and kids filing in the holes in the road. I am here.
After a sudden stop in a parking lot, my luggage was hauled out of the van. And onto a school bus. We were directed to get onto the bus, as apparently it would take us the rest of the way. The school bus was as much of a bus as the van was a van.
Got to the volunteer house. It has running water. Sort of. When I arrived, the water had already been out for four days and the kitchen was covered in dirty dishes. On a separate note, sounds like the house has rats. Liz, the woman I share a room with, explained that there is a rat that lives in our bathroom, under the shower drain. To solve this issue, there is a drain cover in the shower, that she has never ever removed. And supposedly the water drains sufficiently despite the drain cover. We keep the bathroom door closed. To also keep the cockroaches out of our room.
After sweating and unpacking the crazy amount of stuff Mom had been up all night packing for me, I went with Amanda to the town center. There I had the startling realization that I was now going to have to both grocery shop and cook for myself.
It's hot here. I went to shower, a bit after the water had come back on. But when I turned on the tap, no water came out. I asked Liz if the water was out again, even though the sink ran a slow stream. She explained that the shower is kind of funny - if any other water is running in the house, the shower won't work. I, too, think that is funny.
This is real.
I am here.
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