Hot and Bothered

                Semana Santa came and went, and before you now it I’m back in dusty Juticulpa. I guess my brief reprieve to the States made my lungs go soft, because I had to spend the first two nights back sleeping with a dust mask on to prevent me from choking in my sleep (this is not a joke, I really did go to bed wearing a dust mask.)

                It has also been unbearable hot over the past week, usually in the 90’s during the day (and almost there at night as well,) making teaching a class nigh impossible. I don’t think it would make a difference is I did a song and dance number at the front of the classroom, while juggling live hedgehogs, the kids would still just sit there in a sweaty stupor (not that I can really blame them.)

                But with April finished, and May rapidly descending upon us like a troop of sugar-high, tambourine-wielding monkeys, the end of the school year has never seemed so close. There are only 5 weeks of classes left, followed by exam week and a week of recuperation exams. So the real question of the day is “what next?”

                Over the Easter break, I submitted a few job applications in the states, as well as a letter requesting sponsorship to return to Honduras for another year (I like to have my bases covered.) This is all very well and good, but what should I really be pushing for? Part of me really misses regularly running water and air conditioning (not to mention my friends and family.) On the flip side, it is a very sobering thought when you realize that you are the only person that really cares about a child’s education. I mean, many of the parents don’t really support their children in the pursuit of learning, either because they don’t see any real merit in it, or because they simply can’t (how do you help a student with homework that you yourself do not understand?)

                But that’s where my frustration hit a snag. These are MY kids now, and for better or for worse, do I really want to leave them to the tender mercies of whoever the next volunteers will be? I mean, it took me half the year to just figure out how to be a good teacher (although it would have been less if I had had a little more support from the powers that be *grumble grumble*) But if I don’t have the energy or drive to be here, is that really fare to my students?

                Regardless I can’t afford to spend too much time freaking out about the uncertainty of the future (especially since it’s going to be uncertain whether or not I have a plan.) I still have 5 weeks of classes to focus on, young minds to shape, and plenty of adventures still unexplored…plus the mother’s day lunch to decorate, the Open House to plan (curse my willingness to volunteer for stuff!) and midterm grades to finish. It’s gonna be a long night.

Cultural Denial

Just a quick update. One of the other volunteers found this blog article, and I have to say, I find it hilarious! It could not be truer. We get snubbed by Day Star teachers in the street all the time (Day Star is another bi-lingual school in Juti. We like to call them "The Others"...we watch a bit too much "Lost" on DVD in our free time.) Our group is weird in that we greet everyone, gringo or otherwise, that we meet on the street. I guess we’re just too happy to be real volunteers.

http://stuffexpataidworkerslike.com/2011/01/27/17-pretending-not-to-see-each-other/

Mangos and Moustache March

Mango season that is! The local markets are chock full of my all-time favorite fruit, and they only cost 10 lempira each! That’s somewhere in the ballpark of 55 US cents! This means that it’s time for another (much anticipated) episode of IRON CHEF HONDURAS (thunderous applause)!

What can’t you do with the miraculous mango? If you can think of something, please tell me. Thus far I have thought of all kinds of intriguing recipes from mango chicken to mango vodka fruit salad. The latter was particularly popular at our Mardi Graz party at the beginning of lent.

Alas however, most of the mangos I buy don’t make it to the “exploratory cooking” stage, because as soon as I peel and slice the fruit it mysteriously disappears. I can’t help myself, nothing beats a ripe mango.

I have been able to control myself long enough to create some DELICIOUSE chismol de mango (mango salsa.) Take the following, dice all the fruit/veggies, mix, and enjoy with corn chips:

-          2 mangos

-          2 green bell peppers

-          1 red onion

-          Fresh cilantro to taste

-          2 large pinches of salt

-          1 – 2 tsp. cumin

I have eaten nothing but a massive bowl of chismol de mango for dinner twice this week already.

In addition to it being mango season, it is also moustache March! I’ve been rockin’ out the ‘stache for the past three weeks, with various accessories (soul patch, side burns, etc.) As the end of March is rapidly approaching, I have gone pure moustache for the remainder of the season. Having finished shaving I looked up and received a bit of a shock, finding a young version of my father staring back at me. I’ve been told that I look a lot like my dad, but I’ve never really seen it so intensely until now.

Jeff says I look like a cop, which I suppose is a good thing considering that’s what I aim to be one day. And speaking of Jeff, he too is growing a moustache for March. In fact, the two of us convinced most of the male members of the OAF to take part! I’ll try to take a picture of all of us next week…and then I’ll try to actually post some of my many, many pictures that I have been accumulating on my computer.

Moral Dillema

So I and my housemates have had a problem with this local child for some time now. His name is Brian, is about 6 years old, and he is CONSTANTLY coming over asking for food, water, money, and clothes and medicine for his mother. At first we were having him cut out front grass (a job here which is done with a machete, and is backbreaking for anyone over 3 feet tall.) In exchange we would give him 20 lempira and a sandwich.

The problems began when Brian started coming over when we didn’t need the grass cut. He would come over at least once a week asking for food and money, and I, trying to be a good Christian, would offer him some small bit of food (usually a slice of bread with jam) and a glass of water. Now, Brian is by no means underfed, and he has “clean” clothes, by which I mean he has different ones each time I see him, so he isn’t destitute either. So when the visits keep increasing in frequency, we start getting annoyed. We can’t afford to feed a child on our stipend, especially one that isn’t ours.

Brian also starts showing up at odd times, like 9:30 at night when we are all dog tired and heading to bed (well…those of us done with lesson planning.) We also learn that he is doing rounds of the volunteer houses, and that he usually has been given stuff already by the time he comes knocking on our door. At this point we decide to start getting tough. We stop feeding him unless he cuts the grass (which honestly looks worse after he has cut it,) and start ushering him away. In response to this, Brian starts bringing friends with, all of whom are just as demanding, and many of whom don’t wear clothes (nothing more disconcerting than looking up to see a naked and dirt-covered child sneaking in through your front door.)

I feel bad for them, I really do, but I do not run a poor house. Not to mention they already HAVE parents and homes of their own. That being said, their homes probably suck, as Peggy has already informed me that Brian’s mother is a well-known alcoholic.

So what do I do? I can’t keep handing out food to swarms of demanding children (and honestly the complete lack of any kind of gratitude is enough to put one off. All they know is “give me”, without any kind of “please”, “thank you”, or any genuine gratitude at all…reminds me of some of my students actually.) However, this doesn’t remove the stab of guilt I feel every time I turn them away, accompanied be the haunting verse from Revelations about denying God whenever you turn a hungry beggar from your door.

Brian isn’t exactly hungry though so much as he is greedy, but he is poor and worse off than me. So what am I to do?

Music to my Ears

Wednesday, February 23^rd was a turning point…well, somewhat. On Maki’s suggestion, I tried playing music in the art room while the students were working. It is said that music soothes the savage beast, well I can tell you that it most certainly does! I know find myself able to breath during my classes, and I come out with half the amount of grey hairs! True, half my students STILL don’t bring in their art and activities materials (I’ve started sending them to the consejera to have their parents called about it,) but at least they are somewhat controlled in the art room. The only problem now is that I don’t have all that much music on my iTunes. Looks like I’ll have to go to the Esso one weekend and use their Wifi to go to the iTunes music store.

Wednesday night proved to be just as bizarre as my calm classroom. The other volunteers and I were invited to the house of one of the parents of a kid at the elementary school. He also happens to be the shofar for the Bishop of Olancho, who lives right here in Juticalpa. He was also invited. So by 8pm I was sitting next to the bishop, drinking 12 year old bourbon with him, and listening to a live marimba band (I swear I have never seen a xylophone that big in my life!) The food was fantastic, and we all went home in high spirits (and full of spirits…although not TOO full, as it was a weeknight.)

On the following Saturday, myself, Angela, and Dan were invited to go out of town for the day with another family of one of our students (as you might be noticing, such practices are common in Honduras. You have no choice, you ARE a part of the community.) We drove north for about an hour before parking on a dirt back road next to a cow pasture. A short hike brought us into a small grove of trees nestled at the base of some quite spectacular mountains. Upon first entering the tree line, the first thing I noticed was the river flowing down from the mountain. I have NEVER seen a flowing river so crystal clear before. I could see in perfect detail the red and green rocks lying on the riverbed, standing out sharply against the white sand.

As we walked deeper into the woods the terrain rose up, until we were scrambling over massive, moss-covered rocks. The air was cool and fragrant, and I drank in every breath, savoring it after weeks of breathing the dusty city air. We finally reached a point where the ground rose up into a steep cliff. By now the trees rose high above us, and we could see strangler fig vines, buttress roots, and tropical bromeliads adorning the massive tree trunks. Here we made base camp. The parents set about building a fire amongst the rocks to cook lunch (carne asada, home-made tortillas, frijoles, and chizmol) while he kids disappeared down to the river.

Now, we had been promised caves on this little excursion, and we were not to be disappointed. Following two of the kids, we scrambled up the lower slopes of the cliff to the first of three cave entrances. There were no guards, no path, no entrance fee, just the sandy floor of the smooth stone tunnel, disappearing into the gloom. We had one flashlight between us, but it was enough. We ventured in and spent the next hour or so exploring. It was truly breathtaking.

And yet the best was still to come! Upon scrambling even high to the second cave entrance, we saw an owls nest, complete with two massive owls! We had a great time showing the kids the owl pellets we found at the cave entrance. It felt wonderful to have students who actually wanted to learn for a change. When we got fairly deep into the second cave, we sat down and turned off the flashlight. It was utter darkness, and complete silence. It was beautiful.

Just when we thought it couldn’t get any better, it did. We left the cave and climbed back down to get lunch. We had worked up quite an appetite with all our climbing, and the food was delicious. After lunch the kids convinced us to tame a swim in the river (after digesting a little of course). When we ventured down to the water, however, we were amazed to discover exactly why it was so clear. The river was flowing directly out of a third cave! And this was no small tunnel either, the ceiling arched high above us as we swam deeper in, and was easily wide enough to fit in a small raft (which I am now determined to find and take back there!) We swam deeper and deeper into the cave, but it just kept going! We finally had to turn back on account of it getting too cold.

It’s experiences like these that get me through my classes lately. I really want to take my students on a retreat to those cave though. It occurs to me that they have probably never heard absolute silence in their entire lives, and I would love to see what effect it would have on them

When the going gets tough...

Sorry for not posting for a while, things are just moving so fast now. The last two weeks have simply flown past, now that I feel I’ve found my rhythm.

Activities has continued to be awesome. After finishing up Italian cooking with 7^th grade (they LOVED making pasta alfredo) we moved on to Thailand and made Pad Thai (astoundingly, you can get ALL the ingredients for the dish at almost any store!) This week will be China for vegi stir fry, and then we get to Indian cooking (with a brief layover in France for crepes the week of Fat Tuesday.) The kids are really getting into it, even badgering me outside of class about what we are going to cook next.

7^th Grade art has been likewise a huge success, now that I am doing different projects from the 8^th grade art class. The 3 Object drawing project turned out great, and now we are working on hot/cold colors and organic/geometric shapes (very modern art looking drawings, but the kids enjoy it, and it challenges their visual thinking!)

Alas, 8^th grade has not been quite as successful, mainly because nobody has been bringing in their materials. In art we just finished a creative color wheel painting, and now are (theoretically) working on a four color scheme painting. I think the kids would like the project, if only they would bring in a picture to paint from. Likewise, the Chinese New Year dragon puppets we are doing in activities SHOULD be almost half way finished, but most students haven’t even started! I am truly at a loss as to how to get them to start bringing in their materials.

On the plus side, I really feel like I’ve got this teaching thing down now…well, at least the classroom management part. Many of the students actually seem to respect me, and know when I mean business. True by US standards my classroom is still a “three ring circus”, but that is a step up from “riot of killer clowns”.

However, there are still a few “killer clowns” lurking in the high trapeze, and taming them is proving problematic. Certain drama queens will just dig their heels in and find ANY excuse to argue and complain about the class at hand. I actually had to scream at one class today (something I try to NOT have to do very often) when they were on the verge of rioting. I had given them another group project, only this time they had assigned groups (dun dun DUUUUUUUUUN!!!!!!)

The  way some of them reacted you would think I had just told them I was going to shave their heads and send them to boot camp…hmm, now that I think of it, that’s not such a bad idea…

Oh, and here is a little video one of the other volunteers found. It's been my motivation during some of the more trying classes:

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d6wRkzCW5qI

Getting Up to Date...Almost

This week can be described in three words: Three Ring Circus. Monday was relatively calm, with the teachers mostly just going over plans for the third semester. I reviewed the materials the kids would need for Art and Activities, which was more work than I had anticipated, as I have made different lesson plans for each grade this quarter. This means that I am now having to juggle what equates to five different classes (World History, 7^th grade Activities, 7^th grade art, 8^th grade activities, and 8^th grade art…but who’s counting?) I guess it’s really more like four, since I decided to make 8^th grade activities a part of their world history class this time. It gives me a great deal more direction with their projects, rather than giving the kids random assignments to do.

Tuesday was Day of the Woman. This is a Honduran tradition which I can only describe as something between Mother’s Day and Veteran’s Day. This, I discovered, was why Maki had wanted to take the girls aside and talk about stuff with them. I’m glad things went well for them, because it make the headache I got from babysitting the boys somewhat worth it. None the less, I was ready to throw some of the boys out for their behavior and attitude that day. I really need to accept the fact that I am teaching at what, in the States, would be considered a school of behavioral problems and troubled youths.

I should have known the day would be rough when, on the ride to school, I saw the monkey with the lollypop. Um…I should probably explain that. You see, on the way to school, there is one house that has a pet monkey. It will sometimes sit on the roof in the morning, and we have be using it to “predicted” what sort of day we are going to have (goofy I know, but it makes the bus ride a little more bearable). If the monkey is sitting and looking about cheerfully, it’s going to be a good day. If the monkey shows us its butt, it’s gonna’ be a…well, you know. This day however, the monkey was sitting there, licking a lollypop. I kid you not. I figured this could only mean one of two things. Today would be “sweet”, or we were F@$!#&. Alas, it was the latter.

We (tried) to watch the movie “Into the Wild”, and discuss themes like growing up and what really matters in life. The only question the guys really put any effort into was the one regarding sex…and their responses weren’t exactly encouraging. We asked “why did Chris (the main character of the movie) choose not to have sex with the girl in the trailer park (see movie for details)? One kid actually got up and said, in all seriousness, that “any guy who passes up an opportunity to have sex with a woman is gay.” That would have been the end of a very unpleasant day, had little Jose Carlos not stood up and countered the other boy, saying that “he (the main character) had chosen not to have sex with the girl, because she was young, and he didn’t want to mess up her life.” I guess there is some hope for our kids.

Wednesday and Thursday continued to go downhill, the students slowly getting more and more hormonal and ornery. I’m pretty sure that in the States a student would have been expelled, or at least suspended, for the disrespect some of these ones show to their teachers. To make matters worse, we the teachers saw almost nothing of our fearless leader, Maki, who has been embroiled in meeting after meeting with irate parents and deranged students.

Friday was actually a little better…at least the school didn’t burn down during my cooking class! I’m doing Italian with the seventh graders in Activities, and we made ravioli from scratch (yup, even the pasta.) The kids even cleaned up after themselves (with minimal “encouragement”.) Of course, 7B then lied to me later in the day, in order to sneak out of my art class and run amuck in the halls (I thought they had to go to a choir rehearsal).

Friday was also the last day we had Michael. You remember Michael, our blind student? Well his mother has finally decided that it would be better for him to be in an all-Spanish-speaking school, so he is transferring out. It’s kind of sad to see him go (no, that was not a pun, I’m not that mean), but I can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. That’s one less lesson plan I have to worry about.