Road trip

Lucia and I took advantage of the long weekend and traveled to Huaraz, Peru. Huaraz is a city high in the Andean Mountains with many different touring activities. We took about $100, some crackers, and a couple bottles of Gatorade on an 8 hour bus ride to our destination - Hostal Alfredo in the heart of Huaraz.

The place was a lot better than the sign leads you to believe. It even had a mascot - a two year old yellow lab named Gringa. Gringa is in a state of crisis right now... she just gave birth to three really cute puppies, and she got run-over by a car a few days ago. Not exactly the kind of thing that should happen to a new mother. She has a broken leg and a huge bowl over her head to prevent her from scratching the stitches on her skull. To her credit, she still wags her tail when she sees potential Hostal Alfredo visitors. Oh, another added benefit... she walks the halls at night and you can hear her banging into things with that huge plastic bowl around her neck.

Anyway, while in Huaraz we took a tour to see a few things. We first visited the town of Yungay, which, in 1970 was completely wiped out by a mudslide. 50,000 people were killed in the disaster. They have a few monuments in memory of the victims.



From Yungay we took an hour bus ride up the Huascaran mountain. Our destination - Lake Llanganuco. The lake is at 12,600 feet above sea level, and the peak is about 22,000 feet. The following pictures are of Lucia and I near the lake.





I really can't describe the views of the mountain range and the lake. They were incredible (okay, I guess I can describe them). After taking in the sheer awesomeness of the views around the lake we headed to another town near the mountain, named Caraz. There we had a late lunch, consisting of chicken noodle soup and Cuy. Cuy is a traditional Peruvian dish that many Peruvians eat in the Andean Mountains. Many people have cuy farms and even small cuy cages to keep them fresh (alive until dinner time). In English, Cuy is translated to Guinea Pig. Little, furry, innocent, guinea pigs. It was one of those things that I just had to try once. And I'm happy to say that will be the first and last time I try guinea pig. Especially considering a plate of guinea pig consists of the whole animal... with a few hairs that didn't get singed off during the cooking process. The picture below is looking into the mouth of the beast. Or at least half of the head. I ordered the 1/4 Picante Cuy, served on top of cut potatos. And for all you hamster and guinea pig lovers out there... turn away... now!



Here I am sampling the lovely dish... I won't go into the details of how it tasted. Just imagine eating your pet hamster - those were the feelings I had while eating this meal.


Overall, the views, the lake, the mountain, the rodents, the hostal... it was a great experience and highly recommended for any travelers out there. If you get a chance to go, please give me an update on Gringa the dog. Hopefully her leg heals nicely and she gets that damn plastic bowl off of her head.

- Back to work -

-Brian

Oranges, Flintstones vitamins, and anti-bacterial hand sanitizer... do it.

Well, that's it... officially, Colegio Santa Maria has the swine flu. We have one student, a freshman, that acquired Gripe Porcina (pronounced Greepay Porseena). I hear that the boy is doing okay and hopefully his condition continues to be stable.

Classes were canceled on Friday, then today they decided to cancel classes until next Tuesday. Teachers had to go into school for a few hours this morning and in fact, the mood around school was really really good. No surprise, but teachers are almost as happy as the students when school is canceled; at least this teacher is!

I'm thinking about going to Ecuador, or Colombia... or maybe Argentina - the bus ride won't be too long, right?

I'll be going to Kansas City on July 25th. I have a two week break starting the 24th of July, so I'll be in KC for a couple weeks eating BBQ, mooching off my parents*, and catching up with my favorite TV shows - 30 Rock, The Office, How I Met Your Mother, and Two and a Half Men. You'll notice that eating, watching TV and mooching is more important than seeing my friends and family... if you can't deal with that then I'm sorry. I'm kidding of course! Or am I?

*Side note: I tested my ability to mooch off my parents all the way from Lima, Peru... and just ask my mom, its possible.

*Second side note: the picture in this post has nothing to do with the swine flu. A few months ago I was burnt and I got a few blisters on my arm. Pretty gross, so I thought it was appropriate for this post.

"What a life you lead, Brian."
-Sheila Meagher

My First Publication... kind of

Last week was English week at Santa Maria. We had many different events and activities - spelling bee, American and British themed food (whatever that means), and some interesting in-class activities. An interesting part about English Week at Santa Maria was that everything was in English. The ceremonies, masses, and even the daily bulletin was in English. Four teachers from the English Department and one student were chosen to write a short article/editorial to be published in the bulletin each day of the week - one per day. Of course, I was forcefully volunteered to write something for the final bulletin going out to all the students and teachers on Friday.

Now, the bulletin is just like morning announcements. It informs the students what is happening that day or week, and has an editorial section to express some kind of lesson for the students. All five of us writing for the bulletin had the same theme for our articles (it was planned that way) - Why Santa Maria? I wasn't quite sure what that really meant, but after I read Monday's article, then again I read Tuesday's article I was starting to get the idea. What does Santa Maria mean to me... why am I here? Honestly, they were the only ones that would hire me! No, not true... I got a few other job offers (if we're counting 'laying around my girlfriend's house all day' a job).

Thankfully, I got some good advice from a very wise, grey-haired man we'll call Mike (dad, that's you). So, instead of describing it to you... I'll just let you read it. Warning - this isn't funny or entertaining. It is from the point of view of a teacher, knowing that my 12-17 year old students will be reading it. It was published in the Friday bulletin here at school and I think a few people might have read it. (if you can't see the small picture below, I copied the text under it). Second warning - it's different from the normal things I publish here on the blog.

Why SM?

In the early 1800’s, Father Joseph Chaminade and the Society of Mary were building their ministry through the formation of schools in France and Europe. They were met with many political and educational challenges, but with the inspiration of the Virgin Mary they were able to develop the traditions, beliefs, and strategies exhibited today in all Marianist schools throughout the world.

During these first few decades of existence, the Marianist schools were already displaying the charisma and values that Chaminade so deeply believed. On February 7, 1834, Chaminade wrote a letter to Father Jean Joseph Cheveaux S.M., reminding him that schools were “to introduce and to spread everywhere the spirit of faith and religion, and thereby to multiply Christians.” He continued by saying that this can be done by remembering 3 points: “(1) real missionaries never rely solely on themselves but place their confidence in the Blessed Virgin Mary, (2) the salvation of the souls of our students should be the purpose we propose to ourselves in our actions and prayers, and (3) a teacher cannot succeed with a student whose esteem and friendship he has not gained.” (Brother John R. Habjan, S.M. – Society of Mary Marianists).

More clearly, Chaminade’s three points were:
(1) Marianists say that learning does not take place in a vacuum. Knowledge and understanding matures through the interaction that takes place among students and between teachers and students. (2) As Marianist educators, we should live the life in which we preach to our students. And (3) developing a trusting relationship among teachers and students is a crucial part of the educational process. We’re young men and women with a desire to not only develop our minds, but our hearts and spirits as well.

175 years after this letter was written I walked into the front doors of Santa Maria in Lima, Peru for the first time. In the first 3 months here I can see that SM is a school that thrives using the same philosophy and charisma that Chaminade worked so hard to create. If you go to our website you will read Santa Maria’s Mission – Summarized, it says: Educate for the formation of faith; educate in family spirit; provide an integral, quality education; educate for service, justice, and peace; and finally, educate for adaptation and change. These five strategic objectives are at the heart of why we’re here; more specifically, why I’m here.

My own educational experience was not much different than a student from Santa Maria. The high school I attended, Rockhurst, is a Catholic, Jesuit, and all-male school with a mission to educate young men who, at graduation, will possess the following characteristics: Open to Growth, Intellectually Competent, Religious, Loving, and Committed to Doing Justice. Inspired by the founding Jesuit missionary, St. Ignatius of Loyola, Rockhurst’s mission is to develop promising young students into well-rounded young men. “Men for Others”.

Today I teach my students with both Marianist and Jesuit philosophies in mind. Inside my classroom are some of the best young men in Peru. After they graduate they will go on to do great things and be great men. Luckily, I get to teach them after much refinement and years of quality education with the help of some of the best teachers (and people) I’ve encountered. My students can see how much I enjoy my Marianist teaching experience so far. Whether I’m talking about slang in my English club, cheering for the soccer team, singing in the choir at the Confirmation ceremony, or giving out TOEFL practice tests in class (sorry guys, it has to be done) I am happily contributing to Chaminade’s mission, and Santa Maria’s desire to fulfill that mission.

Nearly 200 years after the first Marianist school opened, Santa Maria continues to develop students with the love of the Blessed Mary, the charisma of Chaminade, and the unique skill of each and every teacher. For me, working in a place with such significant values, traditions, and beliefs is a privilege. However, as the manual of Marianist teaching states, “It is the student body that determines the character of an establishment.” therefore, above all, no matter how much of a privilege I think this is, the students are the real spirit of this school. I can only hope they realize this and take full advantage of such a privileged opportunity.

Professor Brian Meagher

Representing KC all the way in Lima, Peru

I noticed this guy while I was walking to work a few days ago, and I had to quickly get my camera out and discretely take a picture of him. Immediately after this picture was taken I gave him a high five and asked what he thought about Matt Cassel's chances as the starting quarterback this upcoming season.

That's a lie. I didn't ask that. I giggled like a little girl and kept on walking - you know, the usual.

The picture was taken a couple blocks from my apartment. GO CHIEFS!

-Brian

Yep, that's me... singing in the choir

I won't say that I absolutely love singing, but I will say that I enjoy singing from time to time. I love music. It is one of the few things in life that can instantly influence my mood no matter what situation, and I love that. Usually, I love to listen to music while I run - slow songs, techno, rock, classic rock, rap, even country sometimes... every type of music helps me run, especially on those long runs when some miles feel smooth and other miles feel like running against the wind. (If you're interested, here is a pretty good playlist for running/working out found on Runner's World - here ). I also have to metion that I had a small stint as a lead singer in high school. Our number one hit was Funky Potato. Basically I just said the words funky potato over and over again... that was it. Memorable for sure.

Anyway, so a couple weeks ago I was asked if I wanted to join the school choir, which consists of about 6 or 7 students and 12 teachers. Immediately, I came up with several reasons why it wouldn't be a good idea - the lyrics are in Spanish, I'm not a good singer, I don't have time, and I'm not a good singer... again. But a small part of me was thinking, "What the hell? Who cares if you embarrass yourself. You're the gringo, you're automatically exempt from any embarrassing situations because you're foreign... you don't know any better. Right?"

Finally, after much thought and contemplation (13.5 seconds worth) I said yes and went to my first practice. It went well. I followed along in the song-book and sang the best I could. After three practices I was ready for the big stage - The Confirmation Ceremony. Friday night, in the gymnasium, all of the seniors getting confirmed, their sponsors, and of course families and friends.

Unfortunately, it was caught on video. Now the videos are on you tube. I'll set up the scene before you click on the links below - the choir is placed in the corner of the gym, and the teachers are in the first 3 rows with the students behind them. As for myself, I'm as far away from the camera as possible... thank God. You can barely see the top of my head. If you have trouble finding my fat head in the video, I am standing almost directly in line with the piece of paper taped to the wall. If you find the white paper on the wall, just look directly below that. Happy viewing!

Iglesia Peregrina http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IuHp-d6DawQ

Gloria http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKjaj_bjR0M

Here is a little extra video just for this blog post....

Flag day celebration in the gym: Flag Day

You can also find other various videos under the same user.

Choir Boy,

-Brian

Rivalry Time

If you know me just a little then you know that I’m a bit of a soccer nerd. I did play a little in high school, and have continued to play recreationally ever since. My former roommates can attest to how many random soccer games I’ve watched on FoxSportsNet over the years. I’m also a big fan of the KC Wizards and the US Soccer team; however, now that I’m in Peru I’ve switched my focus to Santa Maria’s team.

A majority of the players are in my classes so I enjoy going to games to show my support. Every Monday and Thursday after school you can find me at the soccer field cheering on Edmundo, Alvaro, Gonzalo, Gustavo, Renzo, and the rest of the students. (Yes, you’ll find that many of the names end in “o”). The semifinal of the ADECORE Cup was at Santa Maria last month and I couldn’t miss it. We were playing our oldest and most hated rival, Imaculada. I can’t really describe the amount of contempt the two schools have for each other simply because I’m still the ‘newby’ teacher, but based on what I saw that afternoon during the game I can tell there’s some bad blood between the two.

Some of my students actually came into my classroom during recess and lunch on the day of the game to request my presence that afternoon. “Okay! I’ll be there.”

Promptly after the last bell of the day, beating their drums and singing their songs, the students went straight from their classrooms to the soccer field. By the time I got to the game it was already a few minutes in and 4 policemen and about 8 Santa Maria teachers were separating the two team’s fans. No punches were thrown or people kicked out, just some friendly chest thumping and loud yelling.

The game was a good one and the level of play was impressive. I’ll spare you the dorky soccer details and just say that we scored the winning goal with less than two minutes remaining in the game. 1 – 0 in favor of Santa Maria. The students celebrated the goal by rushing the field and acting completely inappropriate and immature. Expected. However, I thoroughly enjoyed chasing them, grabbing them by the back of the neck, and telling them how stupid they were (in Spanish… admittedly, it sounded kind of funny).

When the final whistle blew, our students did the most obvious next step – completely ignored our own players, turned to the opposing fans, and started to yell obscenities and cheers to rub it in their face… as if somehow they had something to do with the victory. The teachers did quite well to keep the two schools separated so that no fights broke out.

The following day at school our students were proud of their victory and before each class I took a few minutes to talk about the game, the fans, and the rivalry. One student put it very bluntly. He said, “Honestly, Brian, we just hate them so much.” As other students are nodding in agreement, he went on to say, “We don’t even know why, but just talking about them now is making me hate them even more.” And just to get a little laugh out of them I said, “You know what Nicolas? After yesterday, I hate them too.”

Promoting uninhibited, unwarranted hatred one young Peruvian at a time –

- Profesor Brayan

Fear of Clowns

Here's a short little story about an encounter I had today...

I've heard a few times in my life that the one thing that people fear most in this world is public speaking. Some people would rather face death than to speak in front of a crowd. It is intimidating, for sure, but for me public speaking is not that big of a deal. However, I have my own fears - most infamous is my fear of clowns. I don't know when it started because I don't recall ever encountering clowns at a young age. But when I went into high school then on to college the fear revealed itself to those around me. My roommates in college played a couple horrible pranks on me... involving full clown outfits and a lot of chasing. I get chills just thinking about it.

Well, I think I'm getting over my fear. This week I don't have to work because of a break between semesters so I've been taking some Spanish classes and traveling around Lima a bit. This morning I got on a combi to go to my Spanish classes. Everything was as normal as it could be - a few people sleeping, the cobrador (the guy who recruits people to get on the buses) yelling at everyone "Pesaje. Pesaje por favor. Pesaje en la mano!!!!", and me trying to hold on for dear life as we weave in and out of traffic. I usually try not to make eye contact with anyone, but about 5 minutes after I got on I heard a very loud voice enter the bus. From what I could hear there was a man telling everyone to get ready for the show. After I heard that I looked up to see what was happening, and I see a startling sight - a clown. Not just any clown... a Peruvian, dirt-poor clown just tryin' to make a living entertaining Lima's bus travelers one combi at a time. I immediately started sweating and breathing heavier. I stayed calm though, I said to myself, "this is no time to panic because where can I go?... I'm stuck in this crowded bus."

So I listened and watched the so called "entertainment". The only thing he did was tell a story about his life and how he became to be a clown. I didn't get all the facts simply because I was constantly thinking of ways to kill him (or myself) if he came near me. However, when he finished his speech he started walking around to take donations. As he came closer to me alot of things started going through my head - my family, my friends, Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Grandma's house. I came face to face with the monster, looked him in the eye as he said to me, "Por favor joven." simply means, Please young man. He stuck out his hand and I reached into my pocket for anything I could find. I had a few cents in there that I gave him. I put it in his hand and he reached up to my chest, I stopped breathing, and he put something in my shirt pocket. He said thank you and kept walking. I reached into my pocket to see what he put there - a toffee candy. Delicious.

My first face to face encounter with a real clown was kind of anti-climactic. There was no blood shed, no balloon animals in inappropriate places, and no spine-tingling laughs. He smelled a little, but that's because he is a poor Peruvian guy just trying to make a living. He didn't try to attack me, actually, he gave me a delicious toffee candy - it reminded me of when I was a young kid at my grandparent's house. My grandpa always had toffee candies in the basement that I couldn't stop eating.

Anyway, we finally arrived at my stop, Avenida Benavides. The clown thanked the crowd and got off the bus. I followed him and tried to act like I was afraid of him... He could probably smell my fear. In my haste I crossed the street quickly and then heard a voice yell, "Cuidado Joven!", I looked up and saw a taxi driving about one foot in front of me. I quickly jumped out of the way to miss the passing taxi. I turned around to see who warned me of the near-death accident... the clown was simply looking at me with a bright, toothless smile giving me a thumbs-up. I gave him a thumbs-up in return as well as a sincere Gracias.

I walked away just laughing at myself. Do your thing, clown, do your thing. The end.


I couldn't get a direct picture of the clown for fear of retaliation, but here are some pix of the guy who saved my life.... it is difficult to see him, but he is the one with the yellow hair and the red visor.


-BJM

Feliz Día Mamá

This post is dedicated to all the moms out there. If you are reading this, and you are a mother, I must express my sincere appreciation for you. No matter how old your children are - 6, 26, or 56 years old - your mother continues to act as an unconsciously selfless part of the family. Especially, my mom. thanks mom, I love you.

Here are some good and funny quotes that I found online about mother´s... found on QuoteGarden...


Insanity is hereditary; you get it from your children. ~Sam Levenson

A mother is a person who seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie. ~Tenneva Jordan

Mothers are fonder than fathers of their children because they are more certain they are their own. ~Aristotle

Sing out loud in the car even, or especially, if it embarrasses your children. ~Marilyn Penland



Happy Mother´s Day mom... here are just a few pics of your proud children...

Kyle - as this picture was taken, he was imagining his life as a father and passed out. No babies were hurt in this picture.

Teresa - even after this picture was taken, Jason still proposed to her. What´s worse - to be a crazy lady or be the guy married to the crazy lady?

Me - I feel that a comment will only diminish the quality of this picture... I think it is best if we just move on without commenting.

Joe - I couldn´t find any recent incriminating pictures of Joe, so I went back to the good old days when tube socks, short shorts, and Royals games were all the rage.

Again, Happy Mother´s Day to all the proud moms out there. We´re all sincerely grateful for everything you do.

- Brian

First Semester Review and Credits

One of my original posts on this blog was about my first few weeks as a teacher. Actually, I hadn’t even taught one class yet and people were questioning whether or not I could handle it. I heard the horror stories of past American English teachers with no Spanish language experience. Yes, they were horror stories. I was assigned to teach the seniors, or as one of my friends here in Lima put it, “Wow, they’re throwing you into the wolves on the first day. Good luck.” Ironically, that is exactly what I have had an abundance of here – no, not wolves… luck.

With only one week remaining before the end of the first semester I have two months of teaching under my belt and some interesting opinions.

First, I enjoy teaching. I guess if I can be more specific… I enjoy teaching English, as a foreign language, to seniors, and preferably to a single gender classroom. Maybe because I’ve been put in a great situation with “the wolves” (you know the story/book/movie about the boy raised by wolves), but whatever it is, I enjoy it. In reality, the wolves are just normal 17-year old students with the same issues that everyone else their age experiences. In my favor is the fact that I’m a young teacher that can identify with them… I also teach a class that is relevant to most of them. Sometimes they get so lost trying to understand why they need to learn the square root of 841, or why certain liquids boil at different temperatures, that they can’t help but question, misbehave, or lose touch with their classes and school. The advantage of teaching English, especially to the advanced students, is that the students realize the importance of learning a foreign language. Also, I try to tell them about my own experiences and stories as a young man – from choosing the right university to imagining a life outside of Lima sometime in the near future. However, the most common questions are about college, girls, and inevitably - college girls.

On top of all that, I enjoy what I teach. I have a great boss who gives me the freedom to teach what and how I would like. I get to choose articles, stories, activities, and videos that interest the students as well as myself. The students can see that I’m genuinely interested and believe in what I present to them; the least they can do is appreciate the effort. (Most of the time). Considering the circumstances - foreign language, foreign country, and foreign experiences - I consider myself very lucky to have found a job that interests me.

Second, I find it appealing to compare this job with my previous job. I don’t know how often in a person’s life one can change jobs, which, on the surface, seem so completely different from each other. I don’t have an example right off the top of my head, but it happens more often than you think.

Before I was at Santa Maria I was in Kansas City working for YRC Worldwide as a Strategy Analyst. The role of Strategy Analyst is a bit more complicated to explain than the role of a teacher, but for the sake of everyone’s sanity, lets just say that a Strategy Analyst analyzes strategies! Whew! Okay, moving on. Each day I drove from the Brookside area to Overland Park, KS. I worked on the 7th floor in the Pricing and Yield Management department overlooking I-435 highway. My cubicle walls could best be described as death-colored and on most days my eyes were sore from staring at a computer screen all day. I enjoyed some parts of my job, most notably working with some great people. Additionally, YRC paid for my graduate education and had very good benefits. Now that I’m in Lima, I walk to and from work – normally a 5-minute walk. I work in a small classroom with access to the outdoors. I am on the computer for only an hour per day and for the most part am interacting with students for the other 6 hours. I receive none of the normal benefits that American companies provide to their employees. As far as my salary, I get paid just enough to pay my rent and food every month.

If I think optimistically, working at YRC prepared me very well to work at Santa Maria.

The political power of networking and socializing is just as important at SM as it is at YRC.

I also learned at YRC that any email, note, report, or presentation should be your best work – meaning, if I send a random email to a colleague there is a chance it might work its way to someone of greater influence, so it needs to be done with that possibility in mind. At Santa Maria my students are more likely to pay attention to me if my presentation, worksheet, or lecture looks professional or even somewhat cool. If they see something technologically impressive (even if it is my own grading system I started on excel using simple formulas… insert nerd voice here) then my credibility automatically goes up. I’m not saying that is justifiable… I’m just saying that I’m appealing to my audience.

Another significant similarity - taking initiative is important in any job, so if there is a situation in which I can stand out from the crowd then I should take advantage of it. I’ve already started my own English club… it started slow – 1 student, yeah! But we’ve got some good things going on… our membership is doubling each week! (BTW, we’re in week 3). Besides the social work the students are required to perform, Santa Maria is seriously lacking extra-curricular activities. Hopefully I can sustain the English club long enough that the students can start running the meetings and organizing the events. Like I said, I guess optimistically speaking, I was lucky enough to work at YRC before coming to Santa Maria.

I don’t think my situation is any different than any of your situations. I just happen to be in a different country doing all these things. I still have to worry about all the normal life problems; I just worry about them in Spanish now. And if I think about my situation, I’m no more or less lucky than any of you. I guess thinking optimistically has given me many reasons to appreciate being thrown to the wolves on my first day. I liked the fact that others were questioning me even before I started this job – you can call it luck; you can call it circumstances; you can call it divine power (thanks for praying for me mom!); or maybe a combination of all three. Whatever “it” is, I’m enjoying my time here in Lima at Santa Maria.


I have to give credit for some of the lessons, readings, activities we've done this semester....

Thanks to my buddy Chad Sogas, or Bobby G as he is commonly referred, for the inspiration:
I showed my class this picture (above) without any explanation as to who this person was or what he was doing. They needed to write a short story describing the life of this man. The results were incredibly entertaining... here are a few:

- Mr. Mustache: He has an obsession with smelly socks and bendable bars.
- Jose: A beer-loving gambling addict.
- Carlos: The Brazilian Street Fighter
- James: The retired boxer trying to regain his fame by performing obscure feats of strength.
- Sockman: Nemesis of Spiderman... honeymooning as a co-author of comic books staring Gene Simmons and Barack Obama. He also published an autobiography, "Under the Sock", an instant best seller.
- Peter Sanchez: President of a multi-national hand band enterprise.
- Ronnie Vinnucci: Graduate of the class of '93 at Richmond High. Repeated both Junior and Senior years, inspired by his boss at the laundry-mat, Mr Lee, Ronnie became a world renowned wrestler.
- Timothy Davies: A recently fired business-man who walks in on his wife cheating on him, starts smoking weed, starts jogging regularly, starts growing mustaches, and starts beating up dudes down at the boondocks.
- Joe Stevenson: A homeboy who liked to exercise all day and all night (very similar to Bobby G)

If you would like to know the real identity of this man, check it out for yourself - KYDJ

.... more credits coming soon...

Profesor,

Brayan

Laundry Day

Do you remember when you were in college (or first lived on your own) and the first time you tried to do laundry? Most likely, you waited until you had no clean underwear left and were forced to visit either the local laundrymat or tackle the chore yourself. Of course, I´m speaking for men simply because I guess women have an endless suppl y of undies. Either way, you had a lot of dirty clothes. You performed your best Santa Claus impression and slung the bag of smelly clothes over your shoulder and headed towards the nearest washing machine. Now imagine yourself in a hot, crowded city walking down the street with that bag. Your back is hunched over to help balance all that weight and sweat is dripping down your face. You´re itching to wipe the sweat off but you´re afraid that if you let go of the bag then all of your momemtum will be lost.

At first I didn´t want to admit to myself that this was happening to me. I´m a 26 year old adult... (at least I think so), I should n´t be putting myself in these types of situations anymore. I knew that someday I would have to deal with the dreaded laundry, but I still put it off until later. I don´t know why, it just happened.

I live in a pretty busy part of Lima called, Chacarilla, which, if you want to compare to something you know... maybe Brookside or Prairie Village in the Kansas City area. (comparable in size). I took my bag and scoped out the closest laundrymat I could find. I walked into the place and immediately they said to me, ¨We can´t wash your clothes... you have too many.¨ They charged per item, and I needed a place that would charge by the kilo. Even though the workers laughed at my situation, as well as my accent, they did give me directions to the nearest place I could take my clothes. So I picked up my bag and walked out to head to the second destination. I finally arrived, gave them my clothes, and asked for the nearest back specialist.

I am on my way to pick up the clothes now. I should inquire about a delivery service... just like I did in college.

-BJM

Return to Lima

…a continuation of my previous post...

The bus ride back from the south of Peru to Lima was pretty good. There was another Bingo game as well as many of the same passengers that joined us on the trip to Chile. However, you’ll never guess what movies we watched on the return trip… if you’re thinking of the movie, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, then you’re just cynical and only want bad things to happen to me on this trip. But if you’re thinking that another round of Enemy of the State and The Punisher were in order, then you’re right. I won’t waste too much time talking about the movies, however, if you haven’t checked them out yet I would recommend a date night with The Punisher. Then, if you have time, Snakes on a Plane – another under appreciated masterpiece.

As I mentioned before, the bus ride was comfortable. I had plenty of space for myself and they served dinner and breakfast the following day. Despite these luxuries, it was still a bus. Lucia and I had the good fortune to sit in front of a woman who didn’t quite do so well. During the night she managed to throw up for about 3 hours, non-stop. After the second hour I really stopped feeling disgusted and just wondered if her life was in danger after losing that much fluid. The poor woman kept going in and out of the bathroom, which, I’m sure felt more like a carnival ride rather than a smooth bus trip.

After at least 30 minutes of downtime to let the bathroom air out a bit, I felt it was safe enough to enter, with caution of course. The bathroom door swings out, so to open it you must pull. Also, there was an “occupied” light that shines bright red if someone was in the bathroom and has locked the door. All signs were clear for me to enter, so I opened the door and, naturally, there was a woman using the bathroom. Shit!

I should have just kept watching The Punisher. Embarrassing is an understatement. Instead of trying to find my seat, I was trying to find the exit to the bus. I can’t imagine what the woman was feeling. Of course after she exited the bathroom I made no eye contact and purposely stayed away from her the rest of the trip. I felt it was the best thing for the both of us. Also, I stayed away from the bathroom for the rest of the trip.

All in all the trip was worth it. I did what I needed to do (legally speaking) to remain in good standing with the immigration office and we had some fun. If you've got some time, and little money, the bus services are definitely worth it.

-BJM

Chile!!!!!

This weekend Lucia and I traveled to Chile. I had a couple days off from work in honor of Holy Week, so I thought I would take advantage of it to do a little traveling. Plus, I needed to travel outside the country to obtain my work visa anyway so I used the two days off to fulfill this function.

I chose Chile based on convenience and price. It was the fastest and cheapest option of any foreign excursion, and based on my current salary those two factors are very important. Cruz Del Sur, a great bus service here in Peru, took Lucia and I to the Southern-most city in Peru, Tacna. I bought a round-trip ticket for about $75, which, included breakfast, dinner, and great service for a 20-hour bus ride. And my favorite part of the bus ride – the movies – we watched four movies on the way to Tacna. Enemy of the State, Shooter, Underclassman, and The Punisher. What a line-up of movies – Will Smith, Mark Walberg, Nick Cannon, and some dude that played the Punisher – unforgettable. They were so unforgettable that we actually watched The Punisher twice. I know what you’re thinking – LUCKY. Exactly. By the way, they were dubbed in Spanish... even better!

Wait, there’s another perk when riding this bus – Bingo! If you were lucky enough to win the bus bingo game then you would receive your ride free of charge. However, Lucia and I weren’t paying attention while the attendant was reading the instructions, so we inadvertently shouted “BINGO” when I thought I had won. But, if we had listened at the beginning we would have known that you don’t win unless your whole card has been called – yes, about 30 minutes of B25, I38, N44, G73, O22 before someone could shout a legitimate ‘Bingo’.


We arrived to Tacna not knowing exactly how we were to cross the border into Chile. I met two surfers from New Zealand who were also in the same predicament. They said they were going to take the train, but it was going to be a slow ride, probably another 3 hours. I told them maybe, but maybe not. Surprisingly, we didn’t have to walk very far before 12 guys approached us saying “Arica, Arica, Arica, Aricaaaaaaaa”. Okay, I guess they can take us to Arica, Chile. We talked to one of the guys for a while and he convinced us that it was a safe ride to Arica… he would even take us to our hotel. We made the deal, paid the money, signed a form and we were off to Arica in a very appropriate ride - an early 90’s, grey Ford Taurus. I started to have flashbacks of sophomore year in High School driving around South Kansas City in Jerry Miller’s Taurus – sweet. I think the only difference between then and now was the music… Smashing Pumpkins and Dave Mathews versus Peruvian Reggae Tone and Salsa… hmmm.


We crossed the border quite smoothly; I think the baggage check guys might have been taking their mid-morning nap because they barely even noticed us as we walked through the metal detectors with all of our bags. We arrived to Arica, formerly part of Peru, but taken by Chile a little over 100 years ago, and we noticed that nothing is open. It was similar to a ghost town. It looked like the only thing that was open was a small restaurant near the beach and McDonalds. Since I feel nauseous every time I eat McDonalds (no offense to 99% of my friends) we chose the Chilean restaurant. We took advantage of the calm atmosphere and laid around the beach for a while, walked a lot, and took pictures of the war monuments placed all over the small city.

The following day we woke up early knowing that we had to go back to Peru in the late afternoon. We decided that the huge cliff that we noticed the previous day needed to be hiked. After a jumping a few fences and climbing through some make-shift gates we found the route to the top. It took a while, but we managed to hike up the side of the big hill/small mountain until we reached the peak. Supposedly, as legend has it, a Peruvian soldier, riding his horse, was chased by Chilean soldiers up this same hill carrying the Peruvian flag. He planted the flag on top of the hill/mountain before he was forced to jump off the cliff, along with his horse, committing suicide. Today, in that same place stands a Chilean flag that looks over all of Arica… along with a huge statue of Jesus. Under the statue is a plaque that reads – “Por la razon o la fuerza”. (for the reason or the force). Sounds like something Jesus would say for sure.

You can also find a small museum at the top of this cliff, who knew? You can check out the pictures to see some of the museum, but there was one interesting piece that I would like to share. The museum displayed a copy of the Chilean war campaign to occupy Lima.
The last part, under strategies and objectives it reads – “Ocupar Capital para imponer la paz”. Occupy the capital, Lima, to push (or impose) the peace. I was not proud when I immediately associated this logic to the American military philosophy in the previous years.

Anyway, unfortunately I have to cut this story short (it’s too long anyway)… TO BE CONTINUED MAÑANA. I love you…….

pictures - http://picasaweb.google.com/bjmyp6

-bjm

When are we turning around?

5am. Saturday Morning. 4 Peruvians. 1 American. 30 Kilometers. Done. Well, not so much.

In January I visited Larcamar, a small tourist district of Lima, which sits next to the ocean. I took this picture from the top of one of the cliffs near the shore looking towards a small peninsula about 15 kilometers away. (about 9 miles). At the time I thought to myself, “Self, wow, what a view.” I was of course talking about the ocean-front view, not of the dying, pink flowers in the foreground.

I had the opportunity, once again, to take in this view last Saturday morning. However, this time I wasn’t a tourist trying to catch the sunset, I was part of a Peru Running Club training for the marathon here in Lima next month. When I say – “once again take in the view”, I really mean that if the sun had actually risen at this point in the day it would have been a good view. It was so early in the morning that I actually ran passed a restaurant of people still enjoying their Friday night… I don’t know which group was crazier – I’ll go with the runners club.

So, to give you a little history first, earlier last week I was speaking with a fellow teacher who had heard that I enjoy running from time to time. He said that I should join him this Saturday for a long run around Miraflores here in Lima. I said, “Oh, great, I would love that.” This is where it gets a little fishy. He told me that the run was 20 kilometers, which, for me is a long run. I would barely be able to make 20 kilometers (11 or 12 miles). However, I always know that when I’m with a new group, trying to show off a little, that my adrenaline is pumping and that would probably help me finish the 20K. I agreed and we arranged the time and place to meet his running group. First mistake.

5:30am on Saturday morning arrives with some great weather. I was getting excited and nervous. I met my friend, Marco, at the starting point and we began around 6am. 5 runners in total… a small group, I thought. We started at an annoyingly slow pace – so slow that I felt like walking. But, our route was along the coast so the ocean breeze felt great, and I figured that once the sun came up it would be a beautiful view. We continued the fast walking for about 20 minutes, then, without words everyone increased the pace to a slow jog. At this point I’m thinking, come on people, let’s start running. Well, at kilometer 5 we took a quick bathroom break at a gas station then increased the pace to a steady jog – more of my style.

Two of the group members are very experienced marathon runners. They begin to run a little faster, which is more of my pace – … if we were running a 5K. I am trying to show off so I agree to join the faster group. The fast group is a good one, I’m happy to be in the fast group, we’re cool. Second mistake.

We kept the pace for about 30 minutes, then for 45 minutes. Okay, I’m starting to get a little fatigued at this point. We’ve been running, what feels to me to be a 7-minute per mile pace, for about 45 minutes… all in the same direction along the coast. I finally asked the guy in the group, when are we turning around? He points to a spot along the beach, which I’m familiar with… the peninsula (remember – “self, wow, what a view”). I cough a few times and they laugh at me and ask me, “How are you feeling?” “Are you going to make it?”. But, I’ve translated this for you, they asked me in Spanish, and my oxygen-deprived brain couldn’t comprehend Spanish at that point so I asked them to repeat, por favor.

After I come to terms with how far we’re running I told them that I want to slow down. But there’s a problem, I don’t know the route. Okay, I told them that I would wait for the slow group to catch up and just run with them. They said, “Oh, the slow group doesn’t run this far, they’ve already turned around and are heading back.” Okkaaaayyyyy. After I heard this news the two runners actually convinced me that it’s not that much farther before we turn around and that I might as well keep going. I oblige and continue running farther away from my former life… a life without leg cramps. Third mistake.

We finally reached our half-way point and I asked them how far we had gone. He responded with a smooth, “15 kilometers”. Hail Mary, full of grace, the lord is with thee……
I couldn’t keep up with the pace any longer and I had to bow-out of the fast group. I was no longer cool. Actually, I was so slow that I probably wouldn’t be considered part of the slow group. I was thinking about the beginning of the run when we were running so slow that I felt like walking… well, it’s not so annoying anymore. In fact, at kilometer 25, I felt so happy to be walking that I dreamed about the next logical step – sitting. So that’s what I did, I took a taxi for 3 soles ($1) back to our starting point. My pride took quite a hit when I rolled up to the parking lot in a taxi as everyone is just sitting, stretching, and of course talking about me. I told my new Peruvian friends a sincere thank you… thank you for reminding me to bring some money with me just in case I couldn’t make it. They were very kind with me telling me that I did the smart thing, and that there’s no need to push my body passed its limits. Duh, I said, as I struggle to touch my knees while stretching.

Some time soon I will visit Larcamar again. It’s a great place to watch a movie, eat at some great restaurants, and generally it’s a good atmosphere for walking around/hanging out. Of course I won’t remember Larcamar for that one Saturday that I conquered the spontaneous marathon. Rather, I will remember how smart I was to bring at least 3 soles with me so I wouldn’t have to run any farther - That decision, alone, made up for the three prior mistakes. What a view.

Four Eyes, ha

A few weeks ago I came to the realization that I am in need of some kind of phone. My sole means of spoken communication up to this point has been Skype, the incredible Internet communication software that lets you call phones, computers, or cell phones anywhere in the world for free or next to nothing. I’ve become an expert at Skype ever since I started dating my girlfriend, whom, if you don’t know already, is Peruvian. Since I’ve been in Peru I’ve utilized Skype to call everyone – family, friends, and even places here in Lima. However, I’ve noticed one flaw with my Skype communication method – I need my laptop. So, let’s say I take a Combi (small bus here in Lima) to La Punta, which happens to be an hour outside of Lima and is a very dangerous place for a lonely Gringo like myself, and I need a way to communicate with someone… I can’t bring my laptop with me. (Yes, I’m implying that I accidentally traveled in a Combi for an hour to the wrong part of town – think, Clark Griswold in East St Louis, “Uh, excuse me holmes, we’re from out of town.” “No shit”.).

I researched a few options, but while I was doing my research an interesting conflict revealed itself to me – it costs a lot of money to call someone who uses a different cell phone provider. I could sign up for the $20/month plan with Nextel, but if I needed to call someone that uses Movistar or Claro I would start the meter around $1.99/minute. This absolutely ridiculous revelation finally gave me some clarity as to why I see most people with two cell phones. People have realized it actually costs them less money to have two cell phones than to call everyone from just one device.

If you know me at all, you know that I was a little late on the whole cell phone phenomenon, and my family was even later – I purchased my very first cell phone when I was a senior in college, 2005… I was 22 years old. My parents acquired their first cell phones in 2008, so The Meaghers aren’t exactly up-to-date on this whole cell phone thing (sorry mom and dad, I love you). So, despite my hereditary deficiency with cell phone usage, I finally bought a Nextel. Lucia owns a Nextel so the obvious solution was to get one as well. It’s good enough to call the people that I need to call, and for everyone else out there, sorry, but I’m not paying two bucks a minute to talk to you… send me an email, or a memo. What am I talking about… I talk to Lucia and maybe a few people from work, who am I kidding?

Speaking of Lucia, she recently got a new job at Movistar in the marketing department. Movistar is another cell phone provider here in Peru – so, in other words, my girlfriend gets a job at a cell phone company… you might be able to imagine what happens next. Lucia drops her Nextel plan because Movistar gives her a free phone (a cool one too) and gives her free cell phone service. What, I’m screwed – damn you cell phones, will I ever win?

So now who am I going to call with my Nextel? Why do I need this Nextel? If you were to ever look at my cell phone bill you would see 99% of the calls going to Lucia’s number. Loser. I didn’t know what to do next, I already signed up for a 6-month plan with Nextel, but then, Lucia came to the rescue. She was able to get me a free phone and free plan with Movistar. Now I can talk for free again, but this new opportunity has caused me to do something that I hate – be ‘that guy’ with two cell phones. Yes, it’s true… So, if you see me on the street, I give you permission to call me names, make fun of me on G-Chat to your friends, and even call me “Four Eyes” (even though I don’t wear glasses anymore). I’m thinking that life was much simpler without all these cell phones. Maybe the Meagher hereditary deficiency is actually a blessing in disguise. The world gets too confusing with all this technology. Keep it simple, thanks mom and dad.

-BJM

R.L Stine, Adventure Woods, and Morning Beers

Exchange City is a great way to offer fifth grade students the opportunity to perform duties found in common careers - policemen, firemen, businessmen, restaurant owners, etc. Essentially, EC creates a mini city for one day for a particular group of students. When I had the distinguished opportunity to attend this magical city for a day back in 1994, I was chosen as the Post Office Treasurer; probably the most boring of all the jobs offered at EC. In fact, I was so embarrassed by this job that when other fellow Exchange Citians asked me what my job was I told them, without hesitation, "Have you read the new Goosebumps book? R.L. Stine is one of the greatest authors of our time. Am I right?" The usual response that followed was a "huh", which gave me plenty of time to get back to the Post Office where I was safe from ridicule.

Once I got into high school the pressure was turned up a bit when we attended Adventure Woods. I'm sure many of you have attended this place where not only your team work and leadership abilities were put to the test, but more importantly your physical abilities were exposed as being inadequate and somewhat humorous. If you like to fall backwards with your eyes closed, climb a wall without a rope, or try to fit 14 sweaty people on top of a small 2x2x2 foot square then I'm guessing you'll enjoy Adventure Woods.

With these two wonderful experiences in mind, my expectations going into Friday's field trip at Santa Maria were scattered across the board. I was thinking of my old field trips at Exchange City and Adventure Woods, but I was also intrigued by the opportunity of experiencing a school sponsored trip in a foreign country. I've heard stories about service trips to exotic jungle towns and even a week service project at Machu Picchu, so I wasn't quite sure what to expect.
Once I got word of the place - the beach - then all I had left to figure out was the agenda. We would be taking the whole freshmen class on this trip (about 100 students), along with 8 teachers including myself. I was trying to imagine team-building activities on the beach, or even individual spiritual development in the presence of the vast oceanfront.

So, Friday morning comes and I confirm that I have the two most important items for the beach - my SPF 1,000 sun screen and my Dora the Explorer beach towell. All the freshmen line up in front of school around 8am patiently awaiting the arrival of the 4 buses that will transport us to our destination. The buses arrive, we drive to the beach which is about an hour away, and finally get to our destination to start the day.

Half of the students immediately run to the ocean and start body boarding. The other half make themselves comfortable next to the pool, which is next to the bar, which is where I find all of my fellow professors already settled in for the day. I walk over to the other teachers and say in my best Spanish, "Well, what now?" They tell me to, "...sit down, relax, have a cold one, and enjoy the benefits of a Santa Maria field trip."

My first thought is, cold one? Really? It's 9am in the morning people. Does working at Santa Maria bring your spirits down so much that the only thing that will help is, well, spirits? I give them a polite, "Gracias, pero, no gracias." and continue to veg-out on the beach until 11:30. 11:30 is special because its the only scheduled event of the day - the teachers versus students water polo game. Talk about mismatch. I felt like Michael Scott on The Office getting his sales team fired up to play the warehouse guys at the DunderMifflin basketball game. We lost before we even stepped foot into the pool, but it was a good chance for my skin to feel the rath of the sun so I guess there was some kind of benefit.

As the day came to an end, and the student's comments about my ever-changing skin color were increasing, I felt like I had successfully experienced my first field trip as a teacher. We loaded everyone on the buses around 4pm and headed home.

If I think about my experiences with Exchange City, Adventure Woods, and now the Peru Beach Excursion I can think of many similarities and differences. I couldn't begin to rank them though, that might be asking too much. Each destination offers its own learning experiences and memorable moments, even if some of those experiences are at the expense of my own ego. Every opportunity is a chance to learn something new, so no matter what opportunity I am presented with next, I will try to represent all Post Office Treasurers to the best of my ability.

I miss you. You know who you are.

-BJM

Almost official

Well, I moved into the new place on Saturday. This means that I'm almost an official Peruvian. I think the only thing left to do is have the initiation ceremony, which, I 've heard involves the official Peruvian hairless dog - Doggy. We'll see how it goes.

You can check out some pictures from the new place if you click the slideshow to the left.

I got extremely lucky and got a place right next to my work. The building has five floors, with five apartments - mine being the top floor. I'm not quite sure how to describe this apartment. Some parts, like the kitchen, are incredibly scary. But other parts, like the living room and balcony, are absolutely incredible.

The interesting part about this apartment is that it is open to the elements. My bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen are covered by a normal ceiling and roof. However, the hallway to get from my bedroom to the kitchen... or from the kitchen to the living room... or from the front door to anywhere is open to the elements. Meaning that there is no roof, just a wall about chest high. I think the pictures describe it better than I can.

People, places, things… and cultural differences.

Lima is a fairly large city, with the population ranging somewhere from 7 to 9 million people. The other day I heard someone at school say there are 12 million people living in Lima, so who knows. By American standards most of the people are poor, myself included. For example, I work at a school, which is considered to be one of the wealthier schools in Lima and Peru, but by US standards I make less than the minimum wage. However, I understand I'm living in a completely different culture, so making those types of comparisons may not be fair.

For instance - tipping. At a restaurant, if I've had a good meal with excellent service then I think at least a 15 percent tip is in order. This is probably due to the fact that I was a waiter in college and maybe I'm somehow making up for all those horrible tips I've received over the years. Whatever the reason, my tipping strategy in Peru is considered to be "showing off" or too "American" because my concept of tipping is completely different from that of Peruvians. This might be a gross generalization, but in Peru it is normal to tip about 2 or 3 percent.

I’ve also found that I’m forced into giving a tip at times, even when I don’t feel it’s necessary. For example, if I happen to be driving (or riding in a car with Lucia… or someone from work) we can stop at most stoplights and find street performers. Simply put, these are people that do semi-impressive stunts while the light is red – juggling, acrobatics, flame throwers, or just simply a good ole’ cartwheel… or on a good day, somersaults. They have timed their “performance” just right so that they have enough time to impress the audience of impatient drivers as well as walk around to collect a tip for the forced entertainment.

Another example, which can be found all over the world and is not limited to Lima, is when people come up to your car and just start washing your windshield. First of all, you don’t want them touching your car, and second, the towel they’re using is so dirty that the result is actually worse than when they first started. And if you’re really lucky, he’ll be cleaning your window with today’s newspaper, seriously. I can’t help but laugh when that happens… I think I’ll start carrying a towel, newspaper, or used handkerchief around with me; and when I’m walking to and from work I’ll earn a few extra bucks washing the windshields of all the cars on my route. (By the way, just thinking out loud here; handkerchiefs - your snot is transferred from your nose to your pocket. Think about it… if you or someone you know suffers from this bizarre practice, please know that you’re not alone and there is help out there for you).

And finally, the most unnecessary of all tip-mongers: the “parking-spot-towel-waving-man”. This man’s sole purpose is to wave you into an open parking spot while whistling, waving a dirty towel at you, and holding his hand out for a tip. Oh, yes, he also guides you while exiting the spot as if he’s your driver’s-ed instructor. If I happen to have something then yes, maybe I’ll tip him. But come on man; he’s like that guy at your work that’s always walking around and you have no idea what he does there – he's just there. He’s that guy, but worse, he’s asking for money.

I guess if I think about it, dealing with these sort of things isn't too much to ask of someone, right? Maybe I should have been a parking-spot-towel-waving-man in college instead of a waiter. I would probably have a greater appreciation for the trade, in all it's intricacies, and as a result tip the men who so kindly guide me into the blatantly obvious, open parking spot. I'll think about it.

-BJM

Negotiating Skills - in a second language

For those of us that don’t have the privilege of owning a vehicle we have a few options to get around the wonderful city of Lima.

:::The combi’s – If you’ve read my previous posts/emails then you know what I’m talking about here – a cheap, adventurous trip in a cramped bus with twice the legal capacity of passengers. It’s good if you’re in the mood to participate in a rugby scrum, on a bus, on the way to work.

:::Walk – I enjoy walking and I use it as my main form of transportation.

:::Taxis – I don’t despise taxis, I just dislike the inevitable conversation that happens every time I get in a taxi. Which is to say they find out my life story before they charge me at least 50 percent more than the normal cab fare. Why are you in Peru? What do you do? Will Barack Obama save the world? The usual.

In Lima, taxi fares are negotiable. You flag down a taxi… or the taxi just follows you slowly as you walk until you turn and give him some attention. After the initial step of choosing the right taxi, here is how a typical conversation goes:

Brian: Hola, buenas tardes.
Taxista: Hola gringo, buenas tardes.

(Already off to a bad start... he's calling me a gringo, or white guy in English, which implies that he's going to overcharge me)

Brian: Conoces Colegio Santa Maria? Esta en Chacarilla.

(Keep in mind, a normal 10-minute taxi ride here in Peru would cost me maybe 1 or 2 dollars.... or 3 to 6/7 Peruvian soles)

Taxista: Si, amigo. Para ti, 12 soles.
Brian: (my response is always the same) Claro, 4?
Taxista: 8
Brian: Ya, OK, vamos.

The word “okay” or O.K. is used as frequently in Spanish as it is in English. And just imagine if the taxista doesn’t know where Colegio Santa Maria is located. However, luckily there is always a taxi waiting behind another negotiating taxi just in case an agreement is not reached. I’ve learned that I’ll get a cheap rate if I mention well known landmarks instead of the specific location; and hopefully as my Spanish improves I’ll be able to negotiate even lower rates. But until then, “Claro, 4?”

Chau chau

-BJM

I have to remind myself I’m the teacher. Weird.

Well, the first day of work came and went without too much trouble. I enjoy my schedule, for the most part, with the exception of Fridays simply because I have 7 classes. On those days, I have little time for lunch, bathroom breaks, or even just to sit and get my head straight before the next batch of teenagers come into the classroom.

The first order of business for all the classes – the rules. I only had a few rules that I wanted everyone to follow, nothing too bad. The seniors listened to the rules, agreed to them, and we moved on with class without a hitch. The freshmen, however, took note of the rules I think simply to figure out different ways to break them. For example, the very first class I had with one group of freshmen was worth noting.

I wanted to test their English level, so we played a pseudo-game in which the students think of a word in English and point to another student in class. That student must use the word in a sentence using the past, present, and future tenses. This just helps me understand what the students already know and what types of things we need to work on this year.

The game is going okay until its time for one of the quieter students to take his turn. First, he describes the word that was assigned to him, then its time for him to choose another word and point to another student to take their turn. However, he quietly says the words, “Female reproductive system” as if he is embarrassed to say it, rightfully so. Of course, the whole class says altogether “What?!?!”. At first, it took me by surprise, so I had to think for a second about what kind of punishment was going to follow, but while I was thinking he said a variation of his previous phrase… he said, “Reproduction”. But this time he gave the class a visual of what he was trying to say by doing 4 and a half pelvic thrusts while saying, “Re-pro-duc-tion”. Of course, the class erupts in laughter, and as a result I have to kick him out of class (but I’m laughing a little on the inside too). It takes a few minutes to get the class back under control, but we go over the rules one more time before I start making them do wall squats*. Just kidding, I would never physically hurt these guys… I only want to scar them emotionally so that I keep haunting them years after they’ve left school. Right?

Anyway, I think I’ll enjoy the senior’s classes. I want to win their trust without being their friend (and thus losing control)… so my first assignment was for them to read an article from the New York Times about the benefits of more recess in school. We’re taking the next couple weeks to discuss, read, and debate the topic of recess and break-time in schools. I have some good ideas and some interesting literature discussing both sides of the argument. If you have any good info on the subject I would love to hear it (for example, a school in the US switched to 4-day school weeks, incredible)… of course the students are all for this, they started to discuss it as they were leaving my class on Friday.

This year should be interesting. The English department has given me freedom to teach what and how I would like, which is a blessing. I will bring my camera to school tomorrow to take some pictures of the school. Updates to follow.

*Wall Squats: Lean up against a wall as if you were on an imaginary toilet seat. Your knees must be at a 90 degree angle. Remain in this position until the teacher tells you to get up. Only once the student has begun to sweat do I start the 5-minute countdown. Try it at home and you'll see how grueling it can be.

You have an MBA... hmmm, good luck teaching English.

Thursday, March 5... Welcome back to school, how was your summer? Yes, that's right, that dreaded phrase - "First week of school" - is back in my vocabulary. I was riding the bus today (public trans, not school bus) and thinking of how many times I've said that phrase - and the horrible feelings that usually follow. Now it's different. Now I am a teacher, an English teacher, and my lack of proper teaching credentials has everyone at work/school worried about me.

First, the teachers are worried that my lack of the Spanish language will evoke some misbehavior from the students. I can understand and agree that making fun of a teacher in a language he or she doesn't know is a tempting proposition. As a result, I've been brainstorming about possible solutions - the best so far is to introduce a rule stating that speaking in Spanish, good or bad, is not allowed in class. My other solution was to learn Spanish in two weeks, so if you have any suggestions please let me know... school starts March 5th by the way.

Second, many teachers are skeptical of my ability to manage a classroom. Since I have little teaching experience, I don't have a degree in teaching, and my only known English expertise comes from the fact that I'm a native english speaker, I can see how they've come to that conclusion. I've also heard the horror stories about former Americans coming into this school and getting "eaten alive" trying to teach English. My rebuttal to the skeptics regarding this topic is not so easy to answer. I'll work on that answer when classes start; I have some interesting ideas but I want to test my abilities first before I tell everyone my theories.

And finally, just because someone performs the same job for 25 years doesn't necessarily mean that person is good at what they do. Conversely, simply because someone is in their first year of teaching doesn't mean they don't know how to teach. The implication that tenure has a direct relationship with one's ability is a debatable topic. Granted, experience can be one of the best teaching tools and I absolutely admire, respect, and learn from those with experience (especially those people willing to share and teach... I know countless people, I hope to be one of those people one day). But I also know that a person's ignorance and comfort with the routine can restrain creativity and prevent students/subordinates/whomever from reaching their full potential. Of course, this is only my opinion... and I am still a young, inexperienced person, so think what you will. Anyway, I'm getting too deep for this blog/email. But, you can see that introducing me into this new teaching life has brought up new challenges that I'm excited to face.

We'll see how it goes on Thursday... we'll see if the phrase, "First week of school" still brings with it those horrible feelings. I doubt it.

Sincerely,

Profesor Brayan