Saturday, October 20, 2007

Cow Cow Cow.


A story:
I worked at a Jewish summer camp a year ago. I remember the Challah chant, where someone would yell "Cha!" and little kids would finish with "lah!" Then it gets silly, like "Chaaaaa, cha, cha.....Laaaaaaah, lah, lah." Get it?
I decided, in an effort to kill a little time on Friday, that we would do the "vaca" chant, which means cow. Simple enough. I say va, you say ca. But when I say va-va, the response takes on a slightly different edge. An online translator defines it like this:
caca f familiar
1 (excremento) poo: el niño quiere hacer caca, the boy needs to have a poo.

I lead over 20 second graders in the chanting "crap! crap! craaap!" and boy did they like it.
I was totally unaware until i noticed a few wide-eyed kids with their hands over their mouths. I'm still waiting to see if angry parents call me about my "teaching methods."

I've been reading in a book on how to teach the second grade, and one idea really made sense to me. There are two different classrooms. One has a teacher that stands at the front and because of some sense of authority or control, he or she demands that the kids work. Copy this, be quiet, read your book. Or, the teacher and the students can work on the same level, because everyone agrees that they want to learn. This allows the teacher to be a helper, moving about the classroom. This is what I want to do, but it is difficult. My class is cramped, and the students want to break free from their desks. And I only confuse them if we try to do an activity that doesn't involve copying from the board. I've heard that much of education here is copying and more copying. If I write fill-in-the-blank sentences on the board, many of the students copy the blank line and think they completed the task.
I'm realizing that much of the chaos in the classroom happens because they just don't know english. It's very discouraging to have most of your classes in a foreign language, I'm sure. I have to admire their creativity, though. They have mastered the technique of destroying pencils so they won't have to write. One kid even pokes holes in the screen wire windows and pushes his pencils out into the street. If they could just apply their creativity in other ways...
In order to build up their english, we're backtracking. This past week we did a lot of work with the ABC's and basic sentences. I feel like I'm making ground, because they are losing their inhibitions towards reading out loud and writing. I've made many mistakes, but another teacher here said hiring underqualified teachers is the only way that bilingual school's can run.

ps- Somewhere between the United States and Siguatepeque, suspended in mid-air, is a copy of radiohead's new album. I can only hope it will land in my mailbox.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Darwin


A few highlights of the past week:

1. A kid peed his pants in class, I think on purpose.
2. Bravo was stolen, or miraculously escaped from his leash.
3. I discovered mangos.

If the list above is any indication, there is a sweet ending to my problems. School is relentlessly long, and I'm utterly tired at the end of the day. And yet there are little things that keep me going, like mangos: somewhere in between the shape and density of a swollen fist and an oblong softball, they are meaty and heavy. It's common to eat them with salt and chile sauce, which makes for a sweet, sour, salty, and spicy taste.
There are experiences, weighty and complicated in taste, that also compel me. One of my kids, Darwin, is reckless and pushes girls instead of working. But he also carries my books for me and shines with the slightest compliment. I had to put Darwin in the "Red Zone," which means he behaved badly. I told his mother after school, and her eyes got sharp, and Darwin began to weep right in front of me as she scolded him. "Discúlpame!" Tears were now streaking his face. His mom made him say it louder. "Discúlpame! Discúlpame!" I had to stand, shoulders straight and no emotion, watching Darwin in his shame.
Discúlpame loosely translates as un-fault me or un-guilt me. It seems that this is how we might approach God with our failings, soft and confused. Discúlpame for the religious sentiment. I won't indulge myself by concluding the mango metaphor, as sweet and salty and sour and spicy as it is. You can do that yourself.

Sunday, October 7, 2007

Weekend Happenings


This past week involved long hours at school in order to prepare for the local and regional food day. On Saturday, we set up wooden stilts and covered the rooves with banana leaves and bright banners. The parents of each grade made food from different regions of Honduras. I was rather happy to be at school with little responsibility, other than walking around and eating.

School can get pretty stressful, especially when we put on big events. Afterwards, I really appreciate the chance to experience the peculiarities of another culture. And sticking around until late builds respect among the teachers.

Last weekend, I took a trek out of town and into the mountains. There's no good way to get there without a car, but walking is such a good way to see the world. About ten minutes out of town, the streets start to wind into mountains. I find the Siguatepeque untouched by modern amenities. There are tin rooves and muddy streets. Unknowingly, I've craved these sights. Sigua is trying so hard to grow up with cell phones and cars and reggaeton, and it has lost some of its uniqueness. I don't want to miss how people really live outside of the commercial section.

Thus, I've been struck with a bit of wanderlust, and am beginning to find these tucked away places.


See more pictures here:

http://appstate.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2105156&l=b6ec7&id=29705820