Teaching Zac Efron

How many blog posts do I have? 14. How many are about teaching? 0. What am I doing here? Teaching. Hm.

Not sure why school hasn’t really surfaced yet in my blog, but I suppose it has something to do with the fact that I was busy venting about marching and unwashed dishes. Compalin Complain. I just wrote complain wrong and it came out comPalin. I think I’m going to keep it like that. I enjoy the fact that you can turn around a word that has a negative connotation and make a word with another negative connotation. Bada bing bada ZING!

Teaching is, in a word: Hard. In two words: Highs and Lows. I have always had respect for teachers and I think it is one of the hardest jobs out there. In the past four weeks my respect has grown tenfold. Some of my classes are great, some are extremely difficult. Not to mention the fact that I am teaching nine different classes and 5 different grades. Goodness, if I were teaching in the states, and got to teach the same class for 5 periods a day, I would be baller yo. But, I’m in Honduras where I not only teach a different subject and class each period but there is also no previous curriculm, no worksheets or handouts, no fun decorations or visual stimulation, no roll down maps, no overhead projector, and ha! as if I needed to say it, no powerpoint. Another hard thing is not having my own classroom, or at least not being able to be in the classroom before the students. The five minutes I take to write something on the board are the easiest five minutes for the kids to get riled up.

Today I will discuss my youngest pupils, because if I talked about all of them, this post would be way too long. But first, here’s the rundown:

10th grade: Great, Really like them, very personable, and REALLY SMART
9th grade: Mas o Menos, depends on the day
6th grade: All different levels of English, not personable, and boys that are too cool for school
5th grade: LOVE OF MY LIFE.
4th grade: Bane of my existence.

Every morning I go from 4th grade English to 10th grade English and oh my dear lord is it a relief to come to the 10th graders. The 4th graders have been unfortunate the past couple years as they have had hardly any teachers who spoke to them in English, ergo, they don’t know English. This is so great to hear for an English teacher who doesn’t know Spanish, i.e. me.

Last week was bad. I yelled at them hard core and was the most frustrated I have been in a very long time…with anything or anyone…including Joey...or college boys. Right when I yelled, I knew I shouldn’t have, but there was no way to even begin to get their attention. I tried to play a game with them where they had to find their partners based on a sentence I gave them. Well, heaven forbid they be put with the wrong person. OH THE HORROR! Can you imagine having to work with A BOY!!!! OR A GIRL?!!?!? Seriously, all hell broke lose.

After that day, I threw out the idea of ever playing a game with them…at least for a while. I have almost mastered them being quiet in their seats and doing work. After the yelling day, I received a very needed and extremely helpful email from my Aunt Mary about the trials and tribulations of teaching. She gave me some great advice. Thanks Aunt Mary!!!! The next morning I went into the class with a prepared speech…in Spanish. We’re not supposed to speak in Spanish to the kids, but I’m a rebel, as you all know. I told them that I understood that learning and speaking in English is uncomfortable and not easy. I have to do the same thing every day, but for us to learn anything, we are going to have to work together. Speaking Spanish to them…not very well…really put me on their level and I think they appreciated that. Immediately after, they got to work and were pretty quiet.

I then announced that I would be giving stars to anyone who was doing their work and x’s to people who were talking. OH MY GOD. The class was SILENT. It was absolutely incredible. Who knew stars and x’s could do so much! In the eyes of a fourth grader it is the difference between life and death. I was walking around definitely laughing to myself and almost out loud. This was the same class that had been giving me such trouble? What I couldn’t believe more than anything was that these kids were actually capable of being quiet. Who knew it could happen! It’s definitely not perfect, and it is certainly going to be my biggest challenge, but I think they are getting the idea that I am not going to take any crap.

One of the hardest parts, and I imagine this is true for all teachers no matter the grade, no matter the subject, is the different levels of students. Some kids, totally get it. Completely, 100% and you know they want to answer every question and are just trying not to be bored because they got it the first three times you went over it. And then there are those who are on the complete opposite end, who don’t get it and can’t answer the question to save their life. Thankfully, most of the 4th graders are somewhere in the middle. Every time Brayan or Diana raises their hands I love them for knowing the answer. But, at the same time I can’t just call on them every time. Such is life as a teacher I suppose.

The other thing about the 4th graders is their obsession with their notebooks, stickers, pens, markers, pencil cases, backpacks, pencil sharpeners, water bottles, and any other school supply related item. More than likely it was the excitement of having these new notebooks in their life that caused them to be so distracted. I am hoping the novelty will wear off soon. There are two girls in front who take THE LONGEST time to start their work because they have so many decisions to make. Which notebook will I use? What color pen? Glitter or regular? Or maybe I will circle the answer in one color and write the question in another! Should I include a sticky note on the page? I think I need to start over and make my letters more bubbly and with heart shapes dotting the i’s. Now what sticker to put on my paper. Oh Maria Fernanda do you want a sticker? Yes Kathia I would love one! Oh let’s keep talking about stickers and Hannah Montana and not do our work! Okay!

Speaking of Hannah Montana, the other day I was teaching the 4th graders about common and proper nouns. We were naming people proper nouns and at first they were just throwing out random names. Then one person said "Joe." and so it started...
"Joe JONAAAASSS!!!" "NIICK JONNAASSS!!!" "THE OTHER JONAASSS!" and then they started saying Hannah Montana, Miley Cyrus, Vanessa, and then, my favorite moment and I totally thought of my crazy la casa mates in A2. A really sweet boy in the back had his hand raised and I called on him and he shouted, "ZZAAAHHCK EEFFRON." But in an adorable accent and I about died. If it helps them learn proper nouns, I'm happy. I mean, I'm happy regardless if Zac Efron is in the mix.

Wildcats YEAH!

So, maybe “bane of my existence” was a bit much. If they like High School Musical, I guess they can’t be that bad.

You are the music in me,

Sarita

P.S. Where? In the sink.

Plate Update

Still in the sink.

A Little Blue...Missing Blue

I just got back from grading some papers at a cafe down the street. I came home right around the time the Michigan vs. Wisconsin game ended. First website I checked: mgoblue.com; 25 to 23! woohoo. Second thing I checked: G-mail. Nothing new. Third website: Facebook. This is literally what I found. All in a row...in one hour, no one else updated their status BUT Michigan people...

Ben LeRoy goed blue!

Molly Phillips It's great to be a Michigan Wolverine!

Brent Beukema is #9 Michigan Wolverines.

Tim Murphy hail!

Jayson Kohler is pumped.

Max Spitulnik is still not over the game. GO BLUE!!

Matt Darby is always happy to be a Wolverine!

Craig McKinney is best game ever.

Eric Washington It's STILL great to be a Michigan Wolverine!

Beth Jersey Spektor is is singing Hail to the Victors straight until Friday...GO BLUE!!!

Ginny Graves is so happy she just ran into a wisconsin fan at panera :) What a glorious feeling! GO BLUE!!!

Catherine R Herzog LOVES Michigan Football!!!!!!

Jenny Martin its GREAT to BE a MICHIGAN WOLVERINE!! i love the big house!

Benjamin Srivastava is GO BLUE!!!!!!!!! IT'S GREAT TO BE A MICHIGAN WOLVERINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ron Ketelhut IT'S GREAT TO BE A MICHIGAN WOLVERINE!!

Sharif Nasr says "It's Great to be a Michigan WOLVERINE!!!"

David Leapheart is wow. GO BLUE.

Ollie Ganz is GO BLUE!!!!

Derek J Peterson loves that he is a Michigan Wolverine. Go Blue!

Jen Haynes is oh my god!!! i love michigan football!!!

Patrick Craves is GO BLUE!!!!

William Hubenschmidt its great to be a Michigan Wolverine.

Lauren Stanley is It's great..to be..a MICHIGAN WOLVERINE!!!

Mary Martin ...and THAT is the Michigan Difference. GO BLUE.

Christina Miceli is GOOOOO BLUEEEE!

Melissa Nestor thinks it's great to be a Michigan Wolverine! :)

Adam Gleicher ITS GREAT TO BE A MICHIGAN WOLVERINE!

Dina Vovsi is so excited about beating the badgers! GO BLUE!!!

Julie Wooton is SOOOOOO HAPPPPPPPPPY!!!!!!!! WAY TO GO BLUE!!!!

Szymon Adam Kietlinski is FUCK YEAH MICHIGAN!

Eric Portenga is GO BLUE!!!!

If that doesn't make a gal miss her dear old college town, I don't know what does. I was never expecting to be able to watch Michigan football in Honduras. That does not mean, however, that I wasn't expecting to miss it. What I didn't think was that I'd miss it this much. Football is football is football but Michigan football, Michigan, Ann Arbor, Maize and Blue, the Big House, the Go Blue cheer, the Marching Band, the drum line, the State Street/Hoover Corner madness, Hail to the Victors, after game naps, Celebration parties while it's still nice fall weather and you can stand outside...that's a whole other thing. And once I start thinking about that, I start thinking about everything else that makes college amazing. Sure it wasn't peachy all the time, but do I remember the bad times? No. I remember the ridiculous nights out, the endless laughing sessions, the hilarious inside jokes, the epic hallway night talks, Projway parties, theme parties, PARTIES, the great classes, constant buzz, the autumn leaves, inspiring professors, Charleys, la casa, the SIX, the package, 22NS, Org. Studs, being a GCG, Starbucks coffee talks, rehash sessions, the Diag, the hayden and anderson boys, the SINGLE'S FLOOR, Heidleberg karaoke, and Jimmy Johns #2 Big John.

It has come. That point in my time here that I think, WOW. I'm not in college anymore. I have a job, and I am living in a third world country until June. JUNE? That sounds so far away. And, I know that it will go by fast, and I know I'll have the time of my life. But right now, right this moment, as High School Musical is playing on my itunes and I think of belting it out with my housemates in Carly's room, I miss home, I miss Ann Arbor, I miss my friends, and I miss being able to express myself, have people understand me, not struggling to talk, and being one hundred percent happy.

This all sounds so emo. And having spoken to my fellow recent grads, I know this would be happening regardless of my location. We're not in college anymore, Toto. It had to happen sometime. And as much as I'd like to go back, I know it wouldn't be the same. It is forever a memory and one of the best I will ever have. Lucky for me, I have come out of it with some of the best friends I will ever know...my YaYas. And I do, I feel very very lucky. Come June, I will feel the same way about being in Honduras. I will not be able to believe how quickly the time past, how much I learned, and what amazing people I met. This is all a learning experience, and a hurdle I need to move past. It's hard. But no one ever said moving to Honduras would be easy. I'm okay, I'm just missing the good 'ol US of A a bit.

I love you all and miss you so much. But don't worry too much. There was bound to be one or two emo blog posts throughout my time here.

Much love and GO BLUE!
Smiller

Tela Tela Bo Bela

WARNING: LONG POST AHEAD

For Independence Day, Abby, John, and I took a little trip to the coast of Honduras on the Caribbean Sea. At first we wanted to go to El Salvador but decided to stay in country on our first traveling adventure. There are two main modes of transportation in Honduras: chicken bus, and a-little-bit-nicer bus. A chicken bus is an old school bus (and I mean a yellow school bus, not like yo dawg that’s old school) converted into a bus that travels the country and packs it’s passengers on like chickens. 3 to a seat? No prob. Sitting in the aisles? Let’s do it! A-little-bit-nicer buses are more of a charter type bus you’d see in the States. The first bus we took was on the extremely nice end of a-little-bit-nicer buses. It had A.C. a bathroom and very comfy seats. Not to mention it was only half full. Ah, luxury. The next bus from San Pedro Sula to Tela was a bit of a downgrade- a “charter” bus with individual seats, but no A.C. and half the seats couldn’t tilt back at all or were permanently stuck in a completely-reclined-practically-laying-down position. I’m not complaining, just explaining.

Thankfully, or so we thought, we had a bit of entertainment in the form of a fellow traveler, which would help the time pass. Enter, Arthur, a German gent who has very good English and has been teaching in San Marcos, Honduras for about ten months. Having such a great past experience with our Brit friends (see below) Abby, John, and I were more than happy to make the acquaintance of another foreigner. Our first tip that he might be a little on the odd ball side was when we asked him if he liked San Marcos. He sat there, starring at us with his squinty eyes, stroked his reddish goatee, paused for oh I’d say a full two or three minutes and then finally said. “Yes.” Ohhh okay. As you will see, he was quite the character…but I digress.

We arrived in Tela around 8:00pm and found a taxi to take us to one of the mini hotels we found in our trusty guide books (thanks Geni!). These mini hotels are all over Central America and are the best cheap option when a city doesn’t have hostels. It was great to be on vacation but I soon learned that Tela should probably change its slogan to, "Tela, Honduras! Ripping off Gringos since 2002!"

Rip off number 1: Taxi Ride
20 limps per person. In SR it’s 14. Pssh.

Some how Arthur tags along to our little mini hotel. We decide to stay here because it was super cheap: 200 limps for 2 rooms for 1 night = 50 limps a person = $2.50 per person. The rooms were small, hot, and no hot water. There was a fan though. Thank God. In Tela I am convinced that people are in a perpetual state of sweaty and stickiness. But whatev, we’re young, we’re cheap, and all we need is a place to sleep. John shares with Arthur leaving Abby and I to bunk together. That night, we eat, we see the beach, and we sleep. Keep in mind that 12 hours prior we had been marching with small children down the streets of Honduras. Hallelujah Vacation.

As we were looking for a place to eat that night we stopped into a hotel that gave us a map and mini guide to the Tela area. I am reading a bit about the surroundings and- NO FRIGGIN WAY. The only Botanical Garden in Honduras is in…dun dun dun dun! TELA! Some of you will not understand why this is such a big deal, and for you, I must take a second to tell you a little something about the Tiger Lilies.

In my final semester at Michigan I took two classes; one required for graduation, and one required to perfectly round out an amazing senior year. Organizational Studies 490: Organizational Leadership and Identity. Once upon a time the CEO of Jet Blue Airlines decided to give the U of M Organizational Studies Department a grant of $10 million dollars. And you thought I didn’t have a real major. Tsk Tsk Tsk. Enter Victoria V-Lil Johnson. One of my favorite professors, Victoria applied for some of this mula in order to fund a research class on the leadership and identity of botanical gardens. To make a long story short this class consisted of 9 amazingly beautiful, funny, talented, brilliant ladies (known as the Tiger Lilies), a fearless leader, all expenses paid trips to 5 gardens in Chicago and New York City, and a kick-butt final project that changed the University’s Matthaei Botanical Garden forever. Not to mention a future wedding engagement. ;-) Needless to say, botanical gardens hold a certain meaning for me far beyond exotic plants and pretty flowers.

The Tiger Lilies in full bloom at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, March 2008

El Jardín Botánico Lancitella is about a 5km bike ride outside of Tela’s downtown. I hadn’t ridden a bike in over 10 years but it really IS just like riding a bike! I felt so adventurous and outdoorsy. We didn’t completely know where we were going but the wind against my face felt great and the scenery that surrounded us was like a tropical wonderland. Passing fruit stand after fruit stand we arrived at the garden.

Rip off number 2: Garden Tickets
Honduran citizen entrance fee = 40 limps = $2.00
Gringo entrance fee = 120 limps = $6.00

After our tough ride, outside the garden. That's weird German guy in the black.

A tough, rocky ride, we were definitely ready to get off those bikes and walk around a bit. After downing our bottles of water we opted for a tour given to us by a local woman whose family actual lives in the garden. Let me tell ya’ll, this place was absolutely beautiful. The 2nd largest botanical garden in THE WORLD, Lancitella did not disappoint. When we visited all the gardens for my class we only saw these kinds of plants in green houses. Here we had the real deal- these tropical plants were everywhere. 1681 Hectares everywhere with a backdrop of hills upon hills upon hills of luscious green trees and plants. Simply incredible. I knew my Tigerlils would be very proud.

Bamboo up the wazoo at Lancitella.

This plant is from Indonesia originally. So cool looking.

That afternoon John, Arthur, and I found ourselves at the beach. Well ladies and gents, I have been to the Caribbean Sea. To be quite honest, the Tela beach looked kinda like Coney Island. Not necessarily the boardwalk and the Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest, but the ocean and shore just weren’t that special. The water however, was amazing. The warmest water I have ever touched. It was almost too warm. Almost. While Arthur debated for 45 minutes over buying a hammock and then played dead man’s float with himself, John and I became pruney in the salty water. All the while I was taking in the fact that I was in Honduras, in the bath water ocean, miles away from lectures in Angel Hall and a Charley’s Long Island. I miss college, but this is pretty sweet too.

Sweet, yes, but never the less,

Rip off Number 3: Dinner

We knew that if we wanted to get some good, safe, seafood we might have to pay more than our usual 30 limps for a balleada in Santa Rosa. We decide on this beachfront restaurant. With my piña colada, beach dress, and sunglass I was the picture of an American tourist. My fresh camarones were yummy and the scenery was gorgeous. The service on the other hand, was horrible. No problem- no one tips in Honduras. That is until the waiter brings you the bill and deliberately says, “Tip not included.” He didn’t know much English but he did know that phrase. Oh, and what’s this? 15% tax on drinks and 15% tax on food. Tax? What? I have yet to be taxed at all in Honduras. Where does the tax even go? The government? Ha. Try the waiter’s pocket. We ended up paying about 250 lempira more than our original bill. $15. Doesn’t sound like a lot but it’s the principal gosh darn it!

Monday brought us two adventures, one organized, one impromptu.

Operation 1: Punta Sal

Off the coast of Tela is a penisula called Punta Sal that has been environmentally preserved, banning any form of construction or development on the island. Bright and early (and sweaty) we met our tour group for our daylong excursion. A forty-minute boat ride took us to what basically could be a deserted island...minus the island part. “If you were on a deserted island and could only bring one thing…” I was on a deserted penisula! Next time someone asks me one of those hypotheticals I am going to say- “Been there. Done that. Kthanksbye.”

How typical does this palm tree look? On the shore of Punta Sal.

Here’s the Caribbean Sea I’ve heard about. Not to mention palm trees, coconuts, tropical fish, coral reefs, sunken pirate ship canons!!! (yes! I’m not kidding!), bananas, and wait for it- MONKEYS! Now, as much as I’d like to make you all jealous and say that there were monkeys all around, swinging from vines, giving us bananas, total Tarzan style, I am going to take the high road and be honest. There were monkeys, yes, and I did seem them…sort of. More than anything, I heard them. The foliage is so thick and tall that most of what I saw were black blobs moving and howling. Regardless though, I saw monkeys and you were working in your cubicle. Zing!

Taken on the boat ride around the penisula.

Abby drinking from her coconut on the beach as we waited our typical Garifuna lunch- fried fish, rice, beans, and plantains. SO GOOD.

All in all, the little excursion was pretty cool. Mario, our tour guide was awesome and bilingual, though I usually could understand what he said in Spanish. It seems to me that the people in Tela speak a different kind of Spanish or are perhaps just more used to talking slowly and accurately to tourists. I understood everyone here! I think it gave me a little bit of false hope that my Spanish is actually getting better.


Operation 2: Ditch Arthur

I am a nice person, I really am. (And humble too.) But with some people you just have to know when to say goodbye. After spending two nights and two days with Arthur we were one oddball comment away from punching him. The straw that broke it was when he came completely unprepared for our Punta Sal trip. At the tour office they told us specifically to bring mosquito repellent, sunscreen, bathing suit, and money for lunch. Arthur brought his bathing suit. The fact that we had already lent him money, he had a bit of a stench about him, was extremely aloof and out there, he kind of tagged along in the first place, oh and SAT UP AND STARED AT JOHN WHILE HE WAS SLEEPING, made us all in favor of us “going back to San Pedro a night early” aka finding another hotel to stay in.

Our goodbye was quick and sweet especially after he remarked “Oh yeah, I think I might go back early too.” “Oh yeah? Hmm…Okay well good luck! See ya!” If anything his weirdness brought us three a little closer together.

Rip Off Number 4: Hotel Posada del Sol ... more like Posada del BUL.
As we were checking out, the manager of the mini hotel informs us that oh no, it is not 100 limps for 1 room per night it is 250 limps per room per night. Not to mention we had to pay for our third night because we didn’t check out by 12:00pm.

What we thought: 100 limps per person (2 nights) = $5.00
What we got: 365 limps per person (3 nights) = $18.50

Unfortunately they got us beat in the language department so arguing our point was basically worthless. Wah wah to the max.

Our final night was quite uneventful. We relaxed in our new hotel room, ate a fantastic vegetarian pizza, and enjoyed each other’s company. In the room next to ours was a group of teachers from Copan Ruinas who were also in Tela on vacay. All from the U.S. they shared many of our bilingual school experiences and it was nice to talk to them a bit. They got an extra day off of school and were planning to stay a day more until a group of them got robbed at gunpoint.

Ultimate Rip Off: Being robbed at gunpoint.
I will take every single rip off I got. Thank GOD this was not me. Apparently it was a block away from our hotel and at 7:30pm. Totally could have been us.

This kind of stuff infuriates me. Tela is a new hot spot in Honduras, not yet spoiled by tourism and resorts so naturally travelers like it. The tourism that they are getting however has completely boosted their economy and has made Tela on the up and up. When these types of actions happen it is saying to tourists- don’t come here, you’re going to get robbed. Let me make an extra buck right now and ruin the tourism economy for the rest of the area. Clearly none of those ladies will go back to Tela and I am not going to take any of you there. It’s just plain stupid and cancels out all of the positive efforts that are happening.

Two bus rides later and we were finally back in SR. It was so nice to have an actual home to come back to and a bed with my name on it. The trip was great but at the same time it definitely made me appreciate Santa Rosa. They may not have level sidewalks or an ocean, but the citizens of Santa Rosa have a little class not yet spoiled by the onset of tourism.

Venting Sesh

The plate is in the sink. It took 3 days, and it has now moved half a step. What am I referring to? Oh, John's plate on which he ate a hamburger Tuesday afternoon. It spent half the week on the counter, with bits of hamburger, tomato, and bread attracting bugs a plenty. Now let's see when it will actually be washed and put in the drying rack. I'm just doing a little experiment. He complains about bugs, and says that he likes things to be clean. Oh, really Johnny boy? CLEAN UP YOUR F-ING DISHES! He says his mom keeps things spotless. Well, clearly you only reaped those benefits, never having to clean up for yourself. Oh, P.S. Remember how there is your 3 week old pizza dough in the refrigerator? Hardened, brown, and completely uneatable? Oh you completely forgot about it? Hmm...interesting. I see that disgusting stuff every time I open the refrigerator door. But who knows, they do say men have worse peripheral vision than women.

The Real World: Honduras.

Left. Left. Left-Right-Left.

Let me tell you a little thing about Independence Day in Honduras. It’s not all fireworks and barbeques, butterflies, and lollipops like in the U.S. It IS those things, but there is one tradition that the Hondurans, I think, could do without. Every Independence Day it is required by law that every single student in any kind of school: public, private; in any and every town: Mayan village, Capital city, Santa Rosa de Copan, march in the city’s parade. No matter how small, how hot, how sick, how tired, they all have to march.

Just take a moment, sit back, close your eyes, and picture what it is like to get 34 first graders to march 2-3 miles left, left, left, right, left. First grade- that’s 6 years old. Now imagine 2nd graders, and 3rd graders, and 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, and 11th graders. And we are not talking about Gay Pride Parade marching where everyone just walks down the street in a huge mass. We are talking military. Come to think of it, I could have used my brother’s expertise this past week.

In order for this parade marching to happen in some sort of organized fashion, the kids, of course have to practice, and the teachers, of course, have to help. This past week, every day, the kids would practice marching for 2 hours. Now, I was in marching band and WE didn’t even like to practice marching and we WANTED to be there. I must say, this definitely took me back to those marching band days with the Nor Cal renowned Sullivan Celtics. All Around Sweepstakes YEAH! I played trombone. It was great.

The kids HATE it. Like, HATE it. And I don’t blame them! The Honduran teachers have no mercy though. I suppose they had to do it so they don’t take much pity on the kids. I on the other hand would often swoop in and be nice teacher and give them water breaks. You can just tell the seniors are so loving it though because they know this is their last year. The whole point of this thing is to salute your country. So after learning left right left, they learn how to turn and salute. All week I was saying in my head “Izquierdos tres cuatro Izquierda Izquierda, Izquierdos tres cuatro...” (Left, two, three, four, Left, Left, Left, two, three, four).

So the big day came and Abby, John, and I were very excited because a) we would no longer have to practice marching and b) we found out two days prior (of course no earlier) that we got Monday and Tuesday off of school for Independence Day and Teacher’s Day. Who knew! So we were counting down the hours until the parade’s end so we could book it home and get on a bus to the coast.

One of my tenth graders, Angela, in a beautiful costume dress depicting the arrival of the Spaniards to the New World...or so I gathered.

This picture was taken for Brent Movitz and Carly Atto, though others are allowed to enjoy it too. This would be a parent, shading her daughter with a Hannah Montana umbrella.

Video of 3rd graders chanting...Izquierdos tres cuatro, Izquierda, Izquierda...Izquierdos tres cuatro...they look thrilled.



The parade was lovely. If you can call students marching down the street for four hours, not really doing anything, “lovely.” Yeah, I mean, they have a band which is nice when they are on beat, their parents are there supporting them which is sweet, and a few of them had some cool costumes, but other than that, I was pretty much over the fact that I kept having to help third graders stay in a straight line. Apparently it’s really hard. There are a couple of things that have happened in Honduras that I promptly say, “this would never happen in the States,” but this parade, above all, takes the cake for that line. But now they have all saluted their country and are good in the eyes of the government for one year. Well, THANK GOD.

Vaya Honduras!

Written 9/12/08

Bug Bites: 10
Cockroaches Killed: Personally- 4, Housewide- 13

Today marks the end of the actual first week of classes. I have always had respect for teachers, but my respect has grown ten fold in the past week. And that idea of teaching being 3/4 pure theater? So true- though I think it is more like 50/50 because if you aren’t prepared at all, you’re pretty screwed as far as creating an interesting class goes. But before I get into all of this detail about my actual job, first things first.

Manuel the taxi driver.
Awesome. The man. Best thing that happened to us in Honduras. While waiting for Triny to figure out our transportation situation (of which we were completely under the impression that WE would be paying for) John, Abby, and I resorted to just taking taxis every day to school. One day, a man named Manuel picked us up and took us to school. He asked us if we would be needing a ride every day and we told him yes and that we would have Triny call him. Note: this simple exchange of words probably took 7-9 minutes; us understanding what he was saying and he understanding our broken Spanish. Dun Dun Dun dunnnn! Manuel becomes our driver AND the school is paying for it! YESSSSS!

We have decided that we will probably learn the most Spanish from him as he speaks EXTREMELY fast and has a tendency aka all the time to never pronounce the end of the words. So, “Como estás” is “costa.” Never the less he is very lovable and that’s what we do- we simply love him. Jolly teddy bear type who talks to us about anything and everything, helps us with our Spanish, and is a HUGE Honduran soccer fan.

Wednesday marked the Honduras vs. Jamaica game and we were lamenting to Manuel that we didn’t have a TV so we weren’t sure if we were going to watch it. Without missing a beat, he invited us to his house for the game. We previously had been driven by his house, learned that Manuel has two adorable daughters, a wife, and a lot of entertaining buddies, of whom are sometimes guests in our taxi rides home. We of course accepted his invitation and Abby and I promptly went out to the street to buy fake Honduran soccer jerseys.

When Manuel picked us up at 7:00pm we weren’t sure whether or not this was going to be a “Manuel and the guys” night or “Manuel-family man” night. Turned out it was the latter which was so cute. I am learning that family life is huge here. If your family plans to do something together and you made plans to go out, you cancel your plans, and spend time with your family. Not to mention, most people live with at least part of their extended family, if not everyone.

Manuel’s home was lovely and he lived there with his family as well as his parents. He has a 4-month-old baby- Lizbeth and an 8-year-old girl- Quirian. ADORABLE. They gave us hamburgers to eat and we all ate and watched together. Honduras won! Thank goodness, because had they not; we would not have gotten to experience the celebratory ride throughout town that would soon ensue.

Me, John, and Abby at Manuel's humble abode eating hamburgers and watching the game on the patio.

Quirian, Manuel's adorable daughter who gave both Abby and me bracelets at the end of the night. She made sure to fix her hair before taking this picture.

Manuel es el hombre as we like to say.

As we were driving home, Manuel, who is an active horn honker in general, starts blaring his horn for all to hear in celebration of the win. Of course, some more cars join in, and before we know it, we are driving in circles, down the same streets, definitely not going towards our house. Manuel was LOVING it. He and about seven other cars were not letting Santa Rosa sleep that night. He kept honking his horn and yelling “Levantanse! Levantanse!” out the window. We then taught him the phrase in English “Wake up! Wake up!” and was then keeping the entire city awake in English, Spanish, and Horn. I could not stop laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. It was one of those moments where you just throw your hands up and laugh. The video below is a 30 second excerpt of the 25-minute joyride.

The truck in front of it with only about 15 guys on back waving their Honduran flag in celebration.

Manuel's celebration joy ride.

I wish you could see the picture better, but the sound is definitely there. This seriously went on for about 25 minutes...maybe more. Every time I thought we were heading home we would turn another corner and the horn would still be honking.

As I said before, Manuel is the man.

British Invasion

Written 9/9/08

Last weekend Honduras played Canada in football. Earlier in the day I had gone to the town center to run a few errands and stopped by the tourist information booth. Fellow gringo and Peace Corps volunteer, Kate works there on the weekend. She was really nice- from Minnesota and living here with her husband.

Side note: I love the idea of doing something like this with your husband. Abby met this couple in a hostel in Guatemala who had graduated college in 2007, worked really hard for a year, saved up $10,000 each and are now traveling the whole world for a year. Ummm…yes please!

So Kate let me know about the Canada vs. Honduras game, as if everyone wearing their blue and white jerseys around town didn’t give it away. The roomies and I decided to venture to Zots to watch, eat, drink and be merry. After walking one block down our street Abby says, “Hey, look! Some backpackers!” I look across the street and see what was soon to become our entertainment for the night. Enter David and Adam, two Brits who decided to travel C.A. on a whim after working at a summer camp in West Virginia. Don’t worry; we for sure gave them crap about choosing West Virginia as their representation of the United States. No Spanish, no map, and NO SHAME. That basically sums up these two wankahs. When we met them they had just fled their hotel after the manager tried to rip them off. Naturally, we took them in. If it weren't for us they'd probably be doing what they did all throughout El Salvador. Standing in the middle of the street holding up a map and saying "Astido Pedido! Astido Pedido!" When I asked them what the heck they were talking about, they said- "I'm lost! I'm lost!" Riiight. "Estoy Perdido." Tomato, Tomato. They were obviously so grateful and definitely repaid us via a very fun and memorable evening. We took them to the only 3 hot spots we knew of in Santa Rosa. The first two were fairly tame, but the third (the karaoke bar, of course) was a scene out of a Honduran telenovela.

Adam instructing David on "the put down of beer." Every time David put his down, foam rose to the top, thus Adam's advice, "You've got to be gentle on the put down! You're too aggressive mate!" Do it in a British accent- it's better that way.

Their hilarious and crazy stories were endless. Just to give you an idea of what these guys were like- David has a tatoo of a question mark with his nipple as the dot. Clearly, a picture was necessary.

This was the first time we had been to this bar without a Honduran (Cid) in tow. Hence, the following scene. Where do I even begin? When we first sat down at this very Honduran, very working class bar, a drunken man speaking drunken Spanish came up to our table and started talking to Abby. Being amused by a drunk lasts about the same amount of time here as it does in the states. Approximately 1 minute, if the drunk is lucky. Trying to ignore him, we began to order drinks and pick songs. (Do I even have to tell you that we sang My Heart Will Go On? How could it NOT happen?) Minutes after Drunkie started talking to us he begins to get harassed by Drunkette. Drunkette was a plumper woman with thick, dark eye liner who has seen better days I'd say. We weren’t sure if Drunkette was with Drunkie or if she was just trying to protect us, but she sure as hell was giving him grief for talking to us. And by grief I mean arguing with, yelling at, and hitting him.

Enter the chivalry. To our “rescue” come several Honduran men. Their first statement: “You are very pretty for me.” Next statement: “You want to dance?” Final comment: “Is he bothering you?” Oh yeah, right out of a fairy tale. We didn’t want any trouble and we didn’t want to dance, so we just said thank you and let our Drunken friend stay. Well, the owner and guards would have no part of that. Yes, guards. With guns. The owner and guards came over and not only told Drunkie to get out of our hair but had us move tables. Only one table over mind you, but I’m sure it made a ton of difference. Somewhere in this shuffle enters Grande Hombre. This huge guy suddenly was sitting at our table, telling us they were honored to have us at the bar, and having multiple conversations in Spanish with Adam who didn’t even know how to say “comida” or “agua” let alone have an entire dialogue about who knows what. Several other events happened in the evening such as random men asking to take a picture with me. One was on David’s camera…which made perfect sense because obvi David and the random Honduran are going to be fb buddies ASAP and comment on all of each other's pics! Also, Drunkette asked Abby to buy her a beer...huh? Arm wreslting occurred between Drunkie and Grande Hombre. That match ended quickly. Drunkette appeared yet again when David and I went over to the dance floor for a cancion or two and saw her making out with a man half her size. Precious.


It is ever so unfortunate that I left my camera at home for the karaoke excursion because let me tell you, a picture in this case would certainly be worth a thousand words. Considering the last few times we have been to karaoke there have only been 3 other people there, this was indeed an exciting night. We came back home and brought the guys up to our roof to hang out a bit more. I have decided that the next stop on Sarah’s World Tour may have to be England. Most people know I love an English accent and break one out quite a lot. But pray let me tell you, their sense of humor is brilliant. I was told that Hondurans don’t do sarcasm, which is total bullocks considering I use it daily, and by daily I mean hourly. But the Brits! They are the kings of sarcasm! They use it loads and I loved talking with them. Forget this Latin America rubbish; time to start looking for jobs in London…

Ringing in the New School Year with Celine Dion

Drum roll please….I know what I am teaching! And I found out before the first day of school! Here’s the run down:

10th Grade: English, Literature, Spelling
9th Grade: English, Literature
6th Grade: Social Studies
5th Grade: Spelling
4th Grade: Spelling, English

That’s 9, count ‘em, 9 classes! I’m actually okay with it though. I’m just happy there is no science or secondary math. The only laughable one is 6th grade Social Studies aka Geography. Considering I just learned that Dubai is a country and not in fact a city in India, or that on Tuesday I was late to a skype date because I thought Honduras was on Central time, I think it is safe to say that I am not the most geographically inclined. I can’t tell you which way is north or the capital of Nebraska. What I can do however, is PRETEND like I know. I am an actress after all. Someone famous once said, “Teaching is 1/4 preparation and 3/4 pure theatre.” Now that’s a theory that I can get behind. *Authors note: I just looked up the quote and credit is due to Gail Godwin, American novelist.

We received our schedules on Monday in addition to having a meeting with all of the teachers spoken entirely in Spanish. Each of us foreign teachers had individual translators by our side to help us out. I understood most of what they were saying, mainly because Triny and Gloria would repeat the same thing a million times. Gloria is the school’s administrator who helped found the school with Triny. She’s said to be a bit of an iron horse, but I’m not too worried. *Authors note: Apparently "Iron Horse" means a train, not a tough cookie. Oops. Thank you Pablo.* Oh and also, we were told that our schedules could very well change and that they are “tentative.” Of course they are.

I rose bright and early on Tuesday to take a shower and get all ready for the first day of school. Thankfully I didn’t have all of my usual classes. We have a temporary schedule this week because every day is a half-day. I dressed in half my uniform- we don’t have our shirts yet and won’t get them for probably a month. Honestly, I bet they ordered them yesterday. Just goin' with the flow, just goin' with the flow. After greeting all the students as they arrived in their khaki and ties we took them to the auditorium for the welcoming assembly. This entire process, from greeting the kids to ending the assembly was set to random American pop music…Phil Collins and the like. Amusing to say the least.

Triny and Gloria opened the ceremony with a prayer that lasted…umm…15? 20? minutes. Reminiscent of Mr. Bonfigli’s prayers for sure. The welcoming continued in Spanish and I understood a lot because they were speaking fairly slowly and basic so that the primary grades could hear and understand. Conclusion: if you speak to me like I am six, I might understand 75% of what you say. “Might” being the operative word. Triny then brought all of the teachers on stage one by one and introduced us to all the students. Then one of the greatest things ever happened. As I said, the background music consisted of all of these seemingly-carefully-chosen American songs. The welcome meeting continues and what song starts to play? None other than Miss Celine Dion belting out “My Heart Will Go On.” I caught the eye of Abby as soon as I could, pointed to my ear and we both shared a chuckle across the gym. She then proceeded to clench her fists and act out the song a bit…right around the “and we’llll staaay FOREEEVER this wayyy!” It was pretty fantastic.

One might think that was the end of our assembly. Oh no. Every class was introduced one by one. And I don’t mean one by one, like, “Now we have 4th grade, give them a hand! Now we have 5th grade, let’s hear it for them!” I mean, “Now we have 4th grade: Maria Consuelo Alvarez, Jose Marvin Lopez…” and on down the line. For all to see, each kid raised their hand when their name was called. Every grade. 250 students. The best was the middle school girls who thought raising their hand was OMG soooo embarrassing. They’d roll their eyes, hide their face, and be way too cool for school.

The assembly went shorter than planned (pretty shocking, actually) so no teachers knew where to go, or what students to stay with. So, some classes had teachers in their classes, some didn’t. No biggie. I only taught 9th and 10th grade that day…both of which I really love. The night before I had planned out my entire lesson- some language exercises, quote of the day, and a few other things…all requiring me to write on the board. Oh hey, guess what, the entire school has NO dry erase markers. None, zip, zero. When I inquired about this, Miss Julie said “they are going to go buy some right now.” First day of school and no way to write on the board? Goin’ with the flow, goin’ with the flow. So, my whole lesson plan was basically shot, but thankfully I have done a fair amount of improv in my day. After doing things that didn’t require the board, i.e. rules, icebreaker, (Uncle John, I just used i.e.!) I had them write a letter to themselves that they would open on the last day of school. Kind of a blessing in disguise because that seemed to go over well, and it’s always fun to read that stuff a year later.

All in all, I am feeling pretty good about my classes and teaching ability. On Tuesday Triny and Gloria invited us to a mass for the school’s 14th anniversary in the Cathedral downtown. This is the main landmark in the city and is really quite pretty. I hadn’t been inside yet, or to a Catholic mass in Central America, so I figured why not. Fellow teacher, native of Santa Rosa, HEM school graduate, and former college student at tiny school in Ohio, Claudia, picked me up and we went to the mass.

Side note: Claudia is awesome and I really hope we continue to become friends. She friended me on facebook, so I mean, we’re basically already besties.

The mass was very calm and peaceful with a lot of nuns in the crowd. It was actually quite similar to one in the States. There was less singing than good 'ol St. Phil’s in Battle Creek, but it seems to me, a Catholic mass is a Catholic mass is a Catholic mass. Even though I’m not very religious, I might go a few more times- it’s really good for my Spanish. We went out to dinner afterward which is a fairly minor detail, except for one glorious moment. We were all sitting there, chatting, etc and then Gloria’s phone rings. Her ring tone was, I promise I'm not lying, “My Heart Will Go On.” It all makes sense.

Tomorrow is Friday…GDELV…Gracias Dios Es Los Viernes! I only am teaching one class- 5th grade and then at night we are venturing out to this famous bar, La Madre Theresa, with Cid and Chris. Should be fun. Below are some pictures of my house, my street, and my room. You’ll find I have a pretty good setup, minus the two cockroaches that I found in my shower two days ago. Came home from mass, saw those bastards, screamed bloody murder, and ran for the Raid. Now every time I go in the bathroom I am so cautious, it’s not even funny. So now I have two beefs: cockroaches, and a cock-a-doodle-doer.

As Brent Movitz so eloquently said, "Your biggest problems are cocks. Meh...nothing new." How very, very true.

The door to my room, my A's hat, my bed, and my awesome clothes line/clothes pins/photographs creation.

Facing my bathroom door, table, and part of my closet. Two important things in this photo: my Michigan pennant and my Deep Woods OFF! Insect Repellent.

Taken from my bathroom door: another part of my closet, my window, and extra bed for anyone who comes to visit!

The remains of the cockroaches that I killed in my shower. I didn't clean them up right away because 1) I didn't want to go near them and 2) so they could be an example to all their friends.

Me in my room! Notice all my text books on the ground...

The outside of our house...that's a little balcony that faces the street.

My street- 3 Avenida, not that ANYONE goes by street names. My address is literally "una cuadra y media norte de la ferretería al mundial." Translation: A block and a half north of the hardware store.

Our living room with furniture from the 80's...but I love the 80's so, it's cool.

Dining area and windows.

Kitchen equipped with all modern appliances except a dishwasher (and garbage disposal).

Thanks for reading! Hasta luego :)