It Is All Coming To An End

I’ve really been slacking as a blogger. Whoops. I apologize.

I have actually attempted to write a few blogs in the past month but I kept getting too emotional to finish. Even when I was writing about the 1,000 wasps that Alejo killed outside my bedroom window, I got emotional thinking about how my struggles with Costa Rican wildlife would soon come to an end. Enough is enough, I am ready to face these emotions and fill you all in on what has been going on recently.

My next few blogs I am going to sum up what each part of this year has meant/given to me. Beginning with my school and students, then I will dedicate a blog to my Pacayitas friends, one to my Pacayitas family, and finally one to my fellow volunteer friends.

The end of the school year has been a mess. Classes have been cancelled so often and I wasn’t able to squeeze in all the information I had hoped to teach my students. Oh well, they are happy because this means a shorter/easy final exam. I give my final exam on Friday and then I am done teaching. I’ve been reflecting back on my year at Escuela Mollejones and I am pleased with all my students and I have accomplished in the classroom. My students started with almost nothing. They had only experienced English class for 2 months in the summer of 2010 before I arrived for the year. I remember flipping through the curriculum book that the Costa Rica Ministry of Education had provided us, and thinking there is no way I can even begin to approach some of the topics it wanted me to teach. Granted, this book is based on schools that have permanent English teachers and expects that the students have all had English class since first grade. Their bar was set to high. I set a bar for myself. I wanted my fifth and sixth graders to be able to tackle lessons that were originally planned for fourth graders. Obviously, I beefed up the lessons, as they could handle more reading comprehension and more vocabulary words. I told myself it was ok to avoid some of the lessons, like the sexual education lesson. I figured with my poor Spanish and their low English level, there was too much room for misinterpretation and I would most likely wind up in an uncomfortable position or my students would have a very poor understanding of this important subject. I just left it up to my director to teach that subject in their science class, where, in my opinion, is the only place it belongs. Why they think it is necessary for fifth graders to know that information in English is beyond me. Anyway, with my second, third, and fourth graders, I based all their lessons mostly of the third grade lesson plans. Since I taught second and third grade in one group I figured it was better to reach a little higher as opposed to making it too easy for the third graders. Yes, I often had to spend extra time with my 3 second graders further explaining verbs conjugations and sentence structure. I sometimes even had to alter the exams for the three of them. In the end, I think it has been good struggle for them. One of my second graders even has the second highest grade in the class of second and third graders. My fourth graders were tackling the same lessons as my fifth and sixth graders by mid-Summer. Obviously first grade was the easiest because I could pretty much follow the curriculum. I changed some things up based on their interests and I feel good about their English level as we come to the end of the year. It has been so amazing to see my first grader’s intelligence grow this year. From not knowing how to spell their names back in February to being able to conjugate verbs in English… it has been an incredible process to witness and aid.

My time in the school this year has been a rollercoaster ride for sure. Some days I wanted to pull my hair out. Other days, I didn’t want to go home. My students have changed my life in so many ways. They have taught me patience and strive. Their ability to overcome obstacles is inspiring. Each of my students possesses incredible talents and I can’t wait to see how they choose to utilize their gifts in their lives. I am positive that each one will be successful in their endeavors.

Each of my students holds a special place in my heart. I am so grateful for having been a part of their lives this year. I hope to keep up with them all. Escuela Mollejones will always be an important part of my life. I plan to visit often and give whatever I can to help maintain the incredible learning environment that exists there.

World Rafting Championship!

It is a big week for the little town of Mollejones. The World Rafting Championship is taking place here in Costa Rica on the Pacuare River. It just so happens that the Pacuare River runs through Mollejones. For the past few weeks, teams from all over the world have been passing through our little town, practicing and getting ready for this big event. We have been fortunate to have some of the teams come and visit the students at school. It has been a really exciting time for the little town, and a blast for my students and me!

Today was especially fun. My students were asked to lead three teams in the parade that took place in Turrialba. Turrialba is the closest city to my town and is a popular spot for rafting. We took a bus to the campsite about 6 miles from our town, which all the teams are staying at. From there we got on another bus and caravanned to Turrialba with the rafting teams. Once we got there we lined up with the other schools who were asked to lead teams.

Escuela Mollejones led the Italian Team: 

The Japanese Team: 

 And the Mexican Team: 

The parade weaved through the streets of Turrialba. There was music and dancing. The Mexican team was by far the most entertaining. They were dressed in big sombreros and were constantly running off the street to take photos with onlookers.

When my students got tired, I stepped in to carry the flag: 

Over thirty countries are competing in the championship. I plan to spend a lot of time by the river this weekend and I will be sure to write another blog and post more pictures of the actual rafting. 

Pura Vida!

Day of the Children

Why don’t we have a day of the children in the United States? It seems like we should. We have a mother’s day. We have a father’s day. It would be only fair for us to also have a day of the children. We could learn a lot from the Costa Ricans.

Anyway….

Today was El Dia del Ninos, or Day of the Children. Lucky me got to celebrate twice. Because my students would be coming to Pacayitas today to celebrate El dia del ninos with the high school and elementary school here, we had our own celebrations in Mollejones this past Wednesday. I was told that all of the classes would be held on Wednesday, but I had a feeling that wouldn’t happen. I was right. After teaching one class in the morning, my director suggested we just take the rest of the day off to play. The children didn’t complain, and neither did I. The day was filled with games, candy, and of course soccer. It is fun to be able to let loose with my students. I feel like recently I’ve become stricter in the classroom. Due to class being cancelled more often, I try to pack as much information as they can handle into one class so that we can get through all the units. Unfortunately, this leaves little time for games. Some things just can’t be taught with a game. I still try to make class enjoyable. We spend a lot of time creating things, drawing pictures and writing sentences about what they are drawing. Even so, they constantly beg me to play Bingo or Jeopardy. My favorite days are when we play Bingo and Jeopardy, too. However, I have to teach them enough information to fill up a Bingo or Jeopardy board in order for us to play, and with classes being cancelled so often, game days keep getting pushed back. Anyway, my point being, it was fun to be able to play with the students on Wednesday.

It got even better today. I met my students at the high school here in Pacayitas this morning. They had been told they would get a surprise and they kept asking me what it was, but I had no idea. There was a ribbon cutting celebration happening at the high school because three new classrooms have been built. As far as I knew, that was all that was happening. I was just as surprised as the students when World Champion Boxer, Hanna Gabriel, was sitting at the main table. She is a huge celebrity here in Costa Rica and she also happens to be the sister in-law of the director of the high school. I knew that the director was related to her, but I never expected to see her in Pacayitas. It was pretty cool. She gave a speech about staying in school, something she didn’t do, and spoke about waiting to have children. This is a problem throughout Costa Rica. There are young mothers throughout the country, and Pacayitas is no exception. I feel like every where I look there is a new teenager pregnant, each one younger than the last. This part of her speech was especially awkward for me as I was sitting next to a girl in high school who happened to be breastfeeding her baby. However, I think it was a great message for these young kids to hear. I feel as though they don’t hear it from anyone else. After her speech the students lined up for autographs and pictures. I was fortunate enough to get a picture, however I passed on the poster, as she was running low and some students still hadn’t received one.

It was a great week. I had a blast playing with my students on Wednesday, and it was great to see them light up around a celebrity. 

 My students, Caleb, Kervin, and Sandro, after a game of bobbing for candy in flour.

 Some of the first graders and kindergarten class singing and dancing with the kindergarten teacher

 One of my kinder students on the swings

 Ricardo and Dayana playing soccer

 A few kinder students and me

 My first grader, Angie, was terrified of World Champion Boxer, Hanna Gabriel.

 I probably wouldn't win this fight...

GO PANTHERS! GO BLUE HOSE! GO DEACS!

I should have guessed that my last three and a half months would be the most difficult for me. Not because I am running out of energy or patience in the classroom. Not because I am sick of eating rice and beans. Not because I am tired of speaking in Spanish or living in a different culture. In fact, I don’t seem to be running out of energy or patience in the classroom. I can still stomach eating rice and beans. I am not tired of speaking Spanish or living in a different culture. So then why? Why are these months going to be the most difficult?

It is football season.

This is the first football season I’ve missed in my 22 years of life. I am not positive, but I am sure I was watching Wake Forest Football with my dad at a month old. And I haven’t stopped watching football since. College football, pro football, I love it all! I have been going to Carolina Panther’s games since their first season in 1995. I’m not just a fair weather fan. Hell, I cheered on my Panthers every game last season even though we only managed to win 2 and came out the worst team in the NFL. I was at most of the home games and watched every away game. My roommates would have to tell any visitors that came to our house, between 1 and 4 on a Sunday afternoon, to please excuse the screaming that came from my room. Sometimes I get a little too excited or a little too angry off while watching games (mostly angry last year). I am always cheering on my PC Blue Hose, even though we’ve struggled with the move to division one. It doesn’t matter. I love my teams. I love them when they are winning and I love them when they are losing.

So imagine how difficult this must be for me… Missing the majority of the 2011 football season. Unfortunately, FOX is not one of the 3 channels we get here in Pacayitas. I’ve found some good websites to stream the games, but my internet is not strong enough to handle them. So I am forced to not watch, but instead read the games on ESPN play by play. I’ve followed every preseason Panther’s game, as painful as most of them were. I was up late on Thursday yelling at my computer as the Deamon Deacons lost their big lead over Syracuse and ended up losing in overtime. And at 11:30 today I will be following my Presbyterian College Blue Hose as they take on the Wofford Terriers in their opening game. Thank God for the Internet.

Wish me luck as I try to survive these next three and a half months…

And now there is only one thing left to say:

On, on PC
to victory!
Garnet and blue,
we're here for you
in everything you do!
Presbyterian!
Spirits are high.
Never say die.
For if we win
or if we lose
We will love you, PC blue!
Go Hose! Go Bluuuuuuue Hose!

 Me and my good friend, Billy, at a PC pep rally last year

 Bryan and I at Wake Forest bowl game in 2007 at Panthers stadium.

Are My Ears Bleeding?

I remember in third grade when we were all given a recorder to play in music class. I suppose it was our introduction to band, which was a required class in fourth grade. I remember playing “Hot Crust Buns” over and over again. Well, I would now like to take this time to apologize to my family, babysitters, friends, dogs, and anyone else that was in my life during third grade and had to listen to me play that abominable instrument.

September 15^th is Costa Rica’s independence day so the high school in my town has been preparing for the celebration that will take place. Not only will the usual drum line perform but there will, apparently, be a recorder performance as well. I was lying in bed Monday night and I heard someone outside my house playing the recorder and after about thirty minutes I was ready to have my ears removed. It only got worse. Francel, my host brother, went outside and when he came back he was in possession of the recorder. He began to practice in the house. I wasn’t aware it was possible to be an awful at playing the recorder, but I am now very aware that it is very possible. Luckily my host mom was home and was clearly having the same thoughts, and she yelled at my host brother to “callate,” which means “shut up.”

Unfortunately, last night my host mother was visiting her mother after dinner and wasn’t there to tell Francel to shut up. Normally I have no problem telling Francel when he is annoying me. We fight like real siblings. However, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to stop practicing because, God knows, he needs it. Instead I shut myself up in my room and put on an episode of “Grey’s Anatomy” in hopes to escape the piercing sounds coming from Francel’s recorder. He played “Hot Crust Buns” (yep its an international thing) over and over again. I kept removing my headphones to check to see if my ears were bleeding. I felt like pulling my hair out…

Eventually he got tired of practicing and the house was at peace once again.

In other news…

Life is going well here in Pacayitas/Mollejones. This past weekend my good friend, Caitlin, came to visit and experience an infamous Pacayitas Baile (dance). When ever I talk to other volunteers about my town their usual responses fall along the lines of, “ You have people your age in your town?” “You have a bar in your town?” “You have dances in your town?”… Yes I am lucky. I have lots of young people my age in my town and great friends my age. We do have a bar in Pacayitas and it is known to have fun dances every month or two. I was excited for Caitlin to see my town, meet my family, experience a dance, and attend a Sunday soccer game. We had a great time. Caitlin got to meet my friends that she has heard me talk endlessly about. We had a lot of fun at the dance.

Let me break down a Pacayitas Baile for you…

The music starts blaring around 7:30, however, no one ever shows up to the dance until a little before 9. I think this is a mixture of Tico Time (no Tico is ever on time) and being fashionably late. People come in from all the surrounding towns, normally on motorcycles or dirt bikes. Caitlin said she felt like we were in our own “Fast and the Furious” movie. The women come dressed in the tightest clothes and highest heels imaginable. Each man has used about a bottle of cologne and their hair is gelled into a perfect fro hawk. At first everyone stands outside. I am not sure why, but it takes a while for people to enter. Once people begin entering the bar, most of the guys stand along the back wall drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. The girls find tables and chairs and sit in groups. Minus the cigarettes and booze, it is a lot like a sixth grade dance, men on one side of the room and the women on the other. Finally a few guys will approach a table of girls, asking them to dance and breaking the ice for everyone. The DJ starts off with traditional Salsa or Merengue and then it turns into more Reggaatone, hip-hop, and techno. There are disco balls and strobe lights to set the mood. Caitlin and I danced with some of my friends. Then we sat and people watched, occasionally being interrupted by men asking us to dance. I don’t know how we were able to say no to their toxic scents of cologne and hair gel… but we politely declined. We left before the party was over and headed home, exhausted. When your bedtime is usually 8:30 it is hard to stay out past midnight.

It was a great weekend with great friends. I can’t believe I have less than four months left. Time is flying and I can’t quite tell you how that makes me feel. It is definitely bittersweet. Even the thought of having to leave my students and family gets me a little teary eyed. However, I do look forward to being closer to my family, friends, and dogs at home.

Well, I am crossing my fingers that Francel isn’t in the mood to rock out on the recorder tonight. I don’t think my ears can take another note.

Dark Knight(s) Up in Here

A little over a week ago I was woken from my deep Benadryl induced sleep to the sound of something bouncing between my walls. I opened my eyes and watched as a bat flew into my curtain and then continued to watch as he climbed to the top of the curtain to hang. At first I was intrigued. This wasn’t the first time I have seen a bat in Costa Rica. When I came here on a school trip my senior year of high school, I actually fed a baby bat with a bottle. I found bats to be interesting animals, and I wasn’t frightened at all by this bat who had seemed to make himself at home in my bedroom. That all quickly changed. I don’t know if was the white of my eyes watching him, but something attracted him, causing him to fly directly at my face. I panicked and ducked under my covers. Not cool bat, not cool at all. In that moment, bats when from being an animal that I found interesting and cool to being an animal that I despised. He had invaded my personal space, and I was not happy about it. I stayed under my blankets until I felt as though I was running out of oxygen. I quickly emerged from the blanket and reached up to turn the light on. I heard the bat fly back up into the roof. It was three in the morning and I proceeded to sleep the rest of the night with the light on.

I was surprised when I woke up that morning and my host family hadn’t realized that I had the light on in my room. The three bedrooms in my house are all aligned in a row on the left side of the house. None of our bedrooms have ceilings so when one room has a light on it flows into the other room. However, I hadn’t bothered anyone with my light. While eating breakfast, I tried to explain to my host mom that a bat had flown into my face. Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember the word for bat so I was explaining how it was fury with wings, but not a moth because it has big ears. That was all the explaining I could do before I had to leave for school.

Later that afternoon I came home to an empty house. My host brother, Francel, was staying at his grandmother’s for the night and my host mom, Zeneida, was in Turrialba and would be getting a ride home with my host father, Alejo, in the sugar cane truck late that night. I knew they wouldn’t be home till at least 10. I sat in my room and heard things fluttering about in the roof. I was sure it was the bat. I began to research bats on the internet, and didn’t like what I found. Through this research, I learned that a sleeping human might not wake up to a bite from a vampire bat because their teeth are so small. I just imagined myself sleeping, while bats feasted on my blood. I spoke to a friend at home in the States who informed me that her family had a bat in their house the week before and the man who came to kill it told her family to all go get rabies shots. In this moment, I forgot that rabies doesn’t exist in Costa Rica. The last case of rabies was over 60 years ago, I believe. I had also learned in my research that bats could spread rabies just by being in the same room. There doesn’t have to be any physical contact. Through all my internet research and chatting I had convinced myself that I was sleeping in a room that rabid bats like to use as a playground at night. I picked up my blankets and pillows and made a nice little bed for myself on the couch in the living room, which is the one room in the house that does have a ceiling.

When Zeneida and Alejo came home they were startled to find me sleeping on the couch. I explained to them about my bat incident the night before. By now, I had looked up the word for bat so there would be no confusion about what I was trying to describe. Zeneida shook her head and said; “I don’t think there is a bat in there. It was probably a moth.” I tried to explain that I had seen it climb and fly at my face and I was positive it was a bat. Alejo got a ladder and looked up into the roof, he sprayed bug spray, and promised me he saw no signs of a bat. He said he thought that maybe some white-bellied birds had made a nest in the roof and that was probably the sound I was hearing. I wasn’t completely convinced but I carried my blankets back into my room and slept in my bed.

I had almost forgotten about the events that took place over a week ago. That is, until last night. Last night we had a huge thunderstorm that knocked out the power. I was sitting in bed, reading with my head lamp when all of the sudden something swooshed down from the roof, into my face, and then onto the curtain that serves as my closet door. I screamed. It was 8 o’clock so everyone was in bed. My scream got them out of bed. I kept my flashlight on the bat and when my host family opened my door I exclaimed, “I told you so!” They all laughed and Alejo grabbed a piece of wood and beat the bat to death and carried it out of the house. Alejo got the ladder and looked up in the roof. He said he didn’t see anymore. At this point I was too worked up to sleep. My heart was pounding after experiencing, for a second time, a bat flying into my face. Francel, stated that he would be sleeping in his parents room and I told my host sister, Carol, that I would be sleeping in Francel’s bed in their room. Carol and I were lying in bed talking about how scary bats were when we suddenly heard something hit the wall that separates my bedroom from hers. Carol sat up and asked me if I heard it too. I said yes and we grabbed our flashlights and went to check to see what was making the noise in my bedroom. Carol opened the door and just as she did another bat came swooshing down, flying at us and then turned and landed on my bed. Carol and I both screamed and Alejo came out of his bedroom, this time with the machete. The bat took off flying again and Alejo swiped at it with the machete and it fell to the ground. Apparently all he had done was tamper with its ability to fly because it scurried out of the room towards the rest of us in the living room. Carol, Francel, and I jumped on the couch, screaming. Because the thunderstorm had knocked out the electricity, we were chasing the bat with our flashlights trying to keep an eye on it. The bat scurried behind two chairs in the living room as Alejo followed behind it, whacking the ground with the machete. Finally he hit the bat, putting an end to its scurrying. However, our battle with the bats was not finished. Zeneida, was scanning my room with the flashlight, when another bat came flying down at her. She screamed and jumped up onto my bed. Alejo ran back into my room, machete in hand. Again, he only managed to hit it in flight, making it fall to the ground and scurry out of the room like the previous one had. Francel, Carol, and I assumed our positions, standing back on the couch, screaming. The bat scurried under the TV stand and Alejo swiped his machete beneath it, back and forth until the bat finally scurried out allowing him to get a clear whack at it. He picked up the two dead bats with the end of his machete and then teased me saying it would a good breakfast in the morning. I was not amused. Alejo did another search in the roof and said he didn’t think there were any more. I was not convinced. He had already said that once and then twenty minutes later two more came out of the roof. Carol, Francel, and I sat up in the living room for about 30 minutes waiting to see if anymore bats would emerge from the roof. No more came out, so Francel went to sleep in his parent’s bed and Carol and I slept in her room. I think that I am going to continue sleeping in Carol and Francel’s room until Alejo can somehow assure me that there are no more bats in the roof.

Here are some pictures to recap my evening: 

 The first bat that flew into my face....

 The next two that Alejo chased around the living room after they scurried out of my bedroom

 Alejo searching for more bats in my room.... Do you like my 18 wheeler posters? Francel decorated it for me before I arrived...

 Zeneida on my bed...

 Carol and Francel on the couch...

 Carol and I on the couch....

Kickin' off the Second Half of the School Year!

The second half of the school year has begun! After my two weeks off, I am back in Pacayitas/Mollejones ready to take on these final months.

I had a long trip back from the States on Saturday. A woman on my flight from Dallas to Costa Rica had a heart attack so our plane had to emergency land in Belize. It was quite the ordeal. Obviously, it was extremely depressing to see a woman sprawled out on the airplane floor, not responding to CPR or any of the medications being administered. And the poor man, who I am assuming is her husband, looking lost and confused as if his consciousness hadn’t or couldn’t grasp what was happening. The flight attendants were frantic, as a doctor/passenger administrated CPR for the forty minutes it took for us to land in Belize. The ambulance that was supposed to be waiting hadn’t yet arrived and whispers such as, “remind me never to go to the hospital in Belize” were passed throughout the cabin. Finally the ambulance arrived, though I am assuming there was nothing they could do. She had been unresponsive for at least 50 minutes. They brought in a stretcher and removed her from the plane, I watched from my window as her husband climbed into the ambulance after her. The rest of us sat quietly, waiting for the flight attendants to collect themselves and tell us what would happen next. In tears, the flight attendants gathered together, hugging and consoling one another. The captain came on the speakers telling all of us to sit tight for further instruction. After about 45 minutes of sitting on the plane they told us to get off the plane and wait in the terminal. We waited for another hour in the terminal and then they told us to get back on the plane. Once on the plane the captain told us they were finishing up the “pre takeoff tests” and waiting for authorities to approve us flying with limited medical supply, since they had used most of it up on the woman. We waited… and waited some more. The flight attendants put on a movie. Cabin fever began to spread throughout the passengers. Mostly because no one was giving us updates and we weren’t sure if we were going to be getting to Costa Rica that night or not. The captain came back on the speaker saying that the door to the wheels was jammed and they brought a truck out to fix the problem.  So after another hour and forty-five minutes of waiting on the runway we were ready for takeoff. The flight attendant said that she would have to interrupt the movie to play the safety video, which caused one frustrated passenger to yell, “I know how to put a f****** seat belt on!” That comment got a few laughs and a few evil stares from families traveling with young children. Finally we were up in the air and arrived in Costa Rica around 12 am. Of course landing that late meant that only two people would be running the customs desks… more waiting. Then there was more waiting for baggage. My eyes welled up as I saw bag after bag come off the carousel, none of which were mine. I thought to myself, “if after all this my bags are lost, I am going to burst into tears.” Finally one of my bags came, and minutes later my other bag, and then the carousel turned off. My bag was the second to last off. I got in a cab and headed to the closest hotel. (I had originally planned to stay in the city in a hostel with my friends but didn’t feel comfortable taking a cab that far into the city alone so late at night) I got to the hotel around 1:45 am, which was 3:45 am eastern time. I collapsed on the bed, so happy to be back in Costa Rica!

So after the exhausting trip back, I am back in my town and back to teaching. My students seemed to be ready to come back to school. Yesterday was a little tough because I was still so exhausted and my energy level was not where it needed to be. However, today I am feeling much better. My energy was through the roof when I taught the kindergarten class this morning, and I am still going strong. Hopefully the energy will stick around for when I have my first graders, as I am pretty positive that their goal everyday is to exhaust me.

I have set some goals for the second half of the year. To spend more time improving my Spanish skills, spend more time with people in the town, and to take on some sort of community project. I haven’t quite decided what I am going to do yet. I am going to ask around and see what people in the town want. I have five and a half months left and I want to make the most of it! I’ll never have another experience quite like this one so I want to really take it in and squeeze every last bit of greatness out of it… That is, if my first graders don’t squeeze every last bit of energy out of me…

Teaching Buddy Site Visit

Last week I ventured to Playa San Miguel in Guanacaste to observe my teaching buddy, Callie. I was looking forward to visiting a different part of the country and getting a glimpse into what life is like for a volunteer in another town. I wasn’t, however, looking forward to the 12-hour journey. I split the trip up by staying in San Jose and leaving early on a 6 am bus to Playa San Miguel. It was about an 8 hour bus ride. Luckily, I had my good friend Angie traveling with me because she too was doing a site visit with another volunteer, Allie, who lives in the town next to Callie’s. About five hours into the bus ride we could feel the temperature change. It was HOT. Both Angie and I live in mountain sites so we are used to temperatures in the 80’s during the day and 60’s-70’s at night. Guanacaste is a different story it is hot 24/7. Callie and Allie were waiting for us at the bus stop in Playa San Miguel. We ate a quick lunch, put on our bathing suits, and went to the beach. Callie lives on a beautiful, white sand, clear blue water, secluded beach. We spent the whole afternoon soaking up the sun and playing in the water. That night we went to a local restaurant that a gringo owns and indulged in some cheeseburgers and pizza… so good! We all stayed the night at Callie’s. Her host family owns a house that they rent out to tourist and they let us stay in it since Callie’s bedroom only has two camp sized beds. The bedroom in the rental house had a ceiling fan which kept the room cool enough for a good night sleep. I woke up ready for another day at the beach. After breakfast we all went to the beach for a bit before Allie and Angie had to catch the bus to Allie’s town. Callie and I spent some more time at the beach before heading back to her house to celebrate her host mom’s birthday with a ton of family members. Callie’s host mom made me plate of food that included a mountain of rice and beans (duh), two gigantic pieces of chicken, two chicharones (homemade pork rines), and salad. I looked at Callie with a worried expression and exclaimed that I would never be able to eat this much. I tried my best. I finished one piece of chicken, one chicharone, the salad, and ¼ of the rice and beans. The giant but very gentle Rottweiler, Jako, got my leftovers. After lunch, Callie and I went down to the restaurant to use their Internet and call our daddies to wish them a Happy Father’s Day. We spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing.

On Monday morning we woke up at 5:30, ate some breakfast, and headed off to Callie’s school. We were a little worried that she wouldn’t have class. Callie’s school is run a little differently than mine. Her director doesn’t seem to care much about holding class so he just doesn’t. She normally has about 2 or 3 days of class a week at most. Even though she had asked told her director I was coming to observe, and even though he reassured her she would have class, we had heard that the dentist was coming to the school and their might not be classes. We felt better when we got to school and saw the students in their uniforms. It looked promising. The director informed us that Callie would hold class until 8:30 when the dentist came and then would hold classes in the afternoon. I got to observe Callie teach one and a half classes. She taught her first class, and then when the dentist didn’t arrive at 8:30 she taught her fifth grades for about 15 minutes. The dentist arrived and set up shop in Callie’s classroom. Callie and I hung out in the dining area. The dentist weren’t just doing cleanings. They were pulling teeth and doing other procedures as well. Callie and I realized that they weren’t going to be done in time for afternoon classes, however, her director told us to wait anyway. After 3 hours of waiting in the dining area, her director finally admitted that there wouldn’t be time for afternoon classes and we walked home and spent the rest of the afternoon napping on the beach. Rough life, I know.

It was unfortunate that I only got to see Callie teach one and a half classes, but I am happy that I got to observe something. It was helpful to see another school and a different teaching style. Callie’s students love her, she is a lot of fun in the classroom and even with their limited days of school, it is obvious that they are learning a lot. Their English level is way higher than my students, as they have had English teachers for the past 5 years. Also, lots of Americans have moved to the area, and some of them have bilingual parents. I am the first year long English teacher at my school so my kids still have a ways to go. Callie also has to deal with more severe learning disabilities that I do. Yes, I have some students that are slower, or that have ADD, but nothing that is too hard to handle. Callie has students that have been abused, sexually, physically, and emotionally, which has understandably caused them to have severe social issues and learning disabilities. It is heartbreaking, but Callie seems to be doing a great job managing these students. Even though she is not required, she still takes the time to independently teach English to these students who have severe learning disabilities.

I left Playa San Miguel at 2:30 in the morning Tuesday night. I woke up at 2 am and Jako, the Rottweiler, accompanied me on the 15-minute walk to the bus stop, scaring away the GIANT crabs and a possum like thing. I was very grateful to have him with me. He sat with me until the bus came and once I was on it he made his way back home and Angie and I made our way back to San Jose. 

It was a great trip but I am happy to be back in the much cooler mountains with my students! 

Crossing Lines

I’ve mentioned before that I am beginning to feel completely immersed in my town and the culture. My Spanish is improving daily and I have incredible relationships with the people in the town. Even so, there are some days where I feel so disconnected and have trouble understanding and accepting some of the goings on in my family and the community. I try to be open-minded and judgment free, but I am human and it can be difficult at times.

The other night Audrey (peace corps volunteer) and I were talking with a local, Heyner, who is also an English teacher in a nearby town. He speaks English very well and he is a nice and fun guy. We were talking about our schools and the differences in our classes. We got into sharing annoyances that we experience while teaching elementary school. I mentioned that I get sick of hearing the word “teacher.” All of my students call me teacher and I probably hear the word a billion times a day. The students call me teacher and the director “nina,” which means girl. I mentioned that I thought it was funny when a student calls me “nina” and the others correct them saying “ella no es nina, ella es teacher.” Which means, she is not girl she is teacher. As if I can’t be both. Audrey asked, “They call your director nina?” I told her yes, that all female directors are normally called nina. As I said it, I realized what she was getting at. All the male directors here are called Don, which means sir, and it is a sign of respect. The equivalent for a woman is Dona. Yet, the female directors are not given the same respect as the male directors. Audrey and I asked Heyner and he didn’t really have an answer to why. He said nina is like a term of endearment, that didn’t make Audrey and I feel any better about the situation. How could a country, that has a female president, not give the same respect to women that it gives to men? I see it every day, my host father and brother sitting at the table waiting to be served, and then leaving their mess on the table for my host mother to clean up. Yet, my host mother, sister and I clean up after ourselves. Don’t get me wrong, I love my host father, he is a very kind and loving man. He cares about his family. But many people in this culture still see some things as the “woman’s job.” It is mostly frustrating because I feel like many of the women feel like they don’t have a choice. My host mom comes home from spending the day taking care of her mother and her very sick sister and she has a hungry husband, son, and gringa to feed. She does it with a smile, but I know she is tired.

I feel bad, but I don’t know what I can do. I don’t want to cross the line and suggest that maybe my host father can make his own plate of food. I don’t want to offend anyone. I feel like I cross the line enough with my host brother. I am constantly reprimanding him. He whines to his mother about how hungry he is and I tell him to go get his own food and he just laughs and continues to whine. He sits at the table and complains to his mother about how he doesn’t have any juice and I tell him to get off his butt and get it himself, again he just laughs. I am constantly reminding him to say please and thank you and he just rolls his eyes at me. His immature responses don’t discourage me, though. I keep reprimanding him, hoping that these things will stick and maybe he will eventually show his mother the respect she deserves. 

When it comes to my host brother, I get involved in situations that I probably shouldn’t. He is scheduled to have a surgery to have the fat in his chest removed because he is embarrassed by it and gets made fun of. My host brother is not a fat kid. He is a chubby kid, but he is also only 13 years old and has yet to hit puberty. I am appalled that a doctor would agree to do such a surgery on such a young boy. I am appalled that his parents are allowing it. I have been stressing about it for months. Though his mother agrees with me that he should try diet and exercise and exhaust all options before signing onto such a big surgery, she still is allowing him to have it. She encourages him to eat better and encourages him to do exercises with me, but she doesn’t force him. I think, “if I were his mother…” and then I stop. I am not his mother. I cannot force him to do anything. However, I can teach him. I can inform him. I’ve been informing him for months. Telling him how worried I am about him having the surgery. Asking him to come on walks and runs with me, which he sometimes does. Telling him to eat better, which he never does. As July and the surgery date near, I remind myself, I’ve done all that I can do. I’ve told him the dangers, I’ve explained the pain he will experience. I have told him other ways to go about it. I have told him to wait at least 4 more years. I’ve explained that if he continues to only eat chicken, rice, and potatoes that he will just regain the weight the doctors have removed. I’ve done all that I can do. Doing anything more would be me crossing the lines.

Yes I love it here. I love the people, I love the culture. But there are things I would change if I could. I am realistic. In my remaining six months I am not going to convince the whole country to stop calling woman directors “nina.” I am not going to change my host father’s ways. But maybe, I’ll instill something in the children I teach, and in my host brother. I’ll keep telling them to say please, thank you, and you’re welcome. Yes, English is an important tool for these kids. However, a year from now if they do not remember how to count to 100 in English, but they are saying please and thank you, that would be ok with me. I think that being a human being who has respect for other people is a much more important tool for their lives. 

 My host brother, Francel, and I

We are the Champions!

I am a little sad today. This is the first weekend in months that Pacayitas will not have a soccer game. Pacayitas soccer games are always the highlight of my weekend. I get to see some of my best friends show off their amazing talent. The team is made up of a group of men who grew up in the town. Many of them no longer live in Pacayitas, as they have moved to the larger surrounding cities for work. However, family is very important to Ticos so most of the guys, who live close enough, under three hours, come home on the weekends to see family and play soccer.

Pacayitas is part a of a soccer league made up of teams in the mountains outside of Turrialba. Since February, Ive gone to most of their Sunday games. The games are always exciting, but these last two weeks have been the most fun. Two weeks ago we won the semi final game and there was a huge celebration. However, that celebration did not even compare to last Sundays party after we won the finals against Cien Manzanas 2 to 0.

The game was a blast. Pacayitas took two busses and many rode along in their own cars. Truck beds were filled with anxious fans preparing to cheer on our Pacayitas team. With the level of excitement everyone had for the game, you would have thought we were playing in the World Cup. People stood in trucks dancing and chanting as Pacayitas took the field. I tried to pick up and follow along with the chants, screaming and clapping with everyone else. I was excited and nervous for my friends. 

The first half ended and neither team had scored. It started raining at the start of the second half. Twenty minutes into the second half, Pacayitas got their first goal. With about five minutes left, they scored their second, securing the victory. The team went nuts, dog piling on top of each other. The rain soaked fans were just as crazy spraying beer, screaming, jumping on the sidelines and in the truck bed. It was awesome! The team and fans piled into trucks for the ride back to Pacayitas. Everyone was geared up for a party. Drivers laid on the horns for almost the whole 35 minute drive back. The honking and cheering only stopped for a moment, we passed a home of a sick elderly man and out of respect everyone was quite. Once around the corner it all resumed again. When we arrived in Pacayitas it was kicked up a notch. Chanting, honking, blowing horns. The players were taking their jersies off and swinging them around their heads. The few people in the town who had not attended the game, came out of there homes to congratulate the players as we drove through the whole town.  We were sprayed with garden hoses, which only add to the mess of mud and water that came with riding in truck beds while it rained. We circled back to the town bar and everyone jumped out of the cars and the party began. Drinking, eating, dancing, cheering, and chanting… almost everyone in the town was there. Audrey and I were shocked by the behavior of some who we had pinned as very serious and formal people. A very nice, but serious man that Audrey works with was spraying beer, making out with his wife, and dirty dancing throughout the whole party. We had a great time seeing a different side of many of the town's people. It was an awesome day.

And now… it is all over. Well, only for a couple months and then they will begin playing a new season. I imagine my weekends will be a lot less eventful these next couple months. I was lucky to have this past week off because of the National Census. I have been able to relax and rejuvenate after such a fun but exhausting weekend.

My town is amazing. The people are so sweet and fun. I am so fortunate to have such great friends to have fun with. I no longer feel like a visitor, I now feel like I am part of Pacayitas. 

 Me and the goalie/great friend Yeison.

 Me with my best friend, Fabian.

 A bad ass bicycle kick.

 My friend, Dixon.

 Riding back from the finals.

 My host brother, Francel, enjoying some meat at the party.

 The party celebrating winning the finals!

praying after winning the semi-finals

"Welcome to Being a Teacher"

Last night I was Skyping with my high school Spanish teacher/advisor. We have kept in touch over the years and I consider her a great friend and mentor. I was complaining to her about the hoops I have to jump through for my TEFL certification and after about five minutes of listening to me bitch she interrupted me and said “Laura, welcome to being a teacher…”

It seems I am just now grasping all that comes with being a teacher. There are amazing times, when my students are sponges and taking in everything that I am teaching them. There are not so amazing times when I spend a whole class period explaining one word. There are times of pure joy, like when every student passed my first exam. There are times of pure frustration, like today, when I caught a student cheating on my test. Sweet, innocent Angie…

Yes, the same Angie that has given me gifts… a spandex shirt, and a dirty pink tank top. I was shocked when I noticed the little piece of paper that she was cupping in her hand. My heart dropped as I walked towards her desk and her guilty eyes met mine. There was no hiding it. She was caught. I took the piece of paper from her and asked her who wrote it. “I did.” I asked her if she wrote it before or during the test. “Before.” I looked over it and realized that most of her answers were wrong on the cheat sheet and that there were words on it that I never even taught them. I am afraid one of her parents wrote it for her… that bothers me on a complete different level. I took her exam from her and told her to sit until everyone had finished their exams. She held her tears back, and I held mine back. Oh yes, I cried a little on the inside.

Once everyone was finished with their exam I was over my sympathetic reaction and had moved on to being pissed off about Angie cheating. Angie fled the room and burst into tears. I went to my director and told her that I wanted to give Angie a zero on the exam for cheating and my director agreed it was the right thing to do. I dramatically ripped up the exam, and students gasped. It was the talk of the school. “Teacher ripped up Angie’s exam because she cheated.” Damn right I did and I’ll do it again if I have to. Needless to say, no one else cheated on their exams the rest of the day.

So the written exam didn’t go as well as the oral exam… I guess that was to be expected. Some students misspelled words, even when they were given a word bank. That was frustrating. Three students failed. I have to keep in mind that some students just aren’t good test takers. I was never a good test taker. I struggled in middle school. However, I was fortunate enough to have parents and teachers that cared about my education and got me all the help I needed to better understand how I learn. I am still getting to know my kids and how they learn. I am hoping by the next exam I will have figured out each student’s strengths and weaknesses to better help them navigate through learning English.

So being a teacher isn’t always joyful and rewarding. And I think I have confirmed what I’ve always thought to know about myself, I am not cutout to teach little ones. However, I am going to do my best to stay motivated… because the joyful moments, and the rewarding moments… they are so worth it. Seeing my first grader, Candy, light up when I told her she made a 98% on her exam today, it warmed my heart… that was a rewarding moment. Those are the moments I am going to cherish.

Two Blonde Gringas are Better than One

I’ve officially experienced my first earthquake while I was in San Jose this past weekend for my groups mid-service meeting. It wasn’t what I expected it would be like… mainly because I had no idea what was happening. I always imagined that I would know what was happening if I ever experienced an earthquake. However, when the store I was in started shaking and people started pushing me towards the stairs with tears flowing from their eyes, I had no clue as to what was happening. I thought that I was imagining the shaking and thought it was more so caused by the crowd pushing me down the stairs (the only injury I acquired during this experience was a woman stepping on my toe with her high heels). Anyway, I had no idea why people were crying or what the rush was. Turns out it was a 6.0 earthquake. Thank God no one I know was hurt and the only damage I witnessed was some broken glasses that had fallen off the shelves in the store. When the shaking was over people wiped their tears and carried on shopping so my friends and I did the same. Thank goodness, no deaths were reported.

Last week my teaching buddy, Callie, came to visit. During orientation we were each assigned another volunteer as our “teaching buddy.” This person is someone we keep in touch with regularly. We are required to visit each other’s sites during the year and observe one another teaching. Callie came last weekend and stayed until we both left on Wednesday for our mid-service meeting in San Jose. Callie is placed in Guanacaste on the beach at one of, if not the, hottest site. I warned her that the rainy season had just arrived and it would get very chilly at night here. She ended up spending most of her time here in my sweatshirt. We went to a futbol game in my town during the pouring rain on Sunday, which very entertaining. We indulged in my host mom’s great cooking, and Callie shared stories with my host family about what life in Guanacaste is like. (My host family hasn’t traveled around the country much so Guanacaste, which is about a 10-hour bus ride from here, seems like a different country) On Monday, Callie came to school with me. I was excited to show off my students to her. I’ve heard some horror stories from some of the other volunteers about the behavior problems they experience in the classroom, but I don’t have any problem students, besides my one first grade student who has ADD and struggles to sit in his seat. I was looking forward to my little angels impressing Callie with their great behavior.

From the moment we arrived at school, all eyes were on the new Gringa. (I don’t know if I’ve mentioned before that Costa Ricans use the word “gringo” to describe Americans and it is not meant to be offensive) Anyway, Callie whispered to me that she felt like the most interesting person in the world. You would think that my students had never seen a blonde hair, blue eyed, girl before… but wait, I am here everyday! Callie and I told my students we were twins and I think a lot of them bought it. Callie seems to have a lot more patience with the kids than I do. They all circled around her climbed in her lap and braided her hair. I let my kids occasionally braid my hair and sit in my lap, but not for hours at a time. Callie let it carry on for the whole day. I don’t want to sound like the bad cop, I do play with my kids often and hug them constantly. However, I do set some boundaries to prevent my students from using me as a jungle gym. When it was time for my first grade class my students wanted nothing to do with learning. They just wanted to show off for Callie. I couldn’t get them to follow any directions. Instead, they just ran around like crazy kids. I’ve never felt so stressed out during a class before. My only solution was to put them in their seats and have them practice writing. So much for showing off my awesomely behaved students…

Last Tuesday went a little better. I think the initial shock of having another gringa in the classroom had worn off, so the students were better behaved. One of my fourth graders, Angie, gave Callie a stuffed bear. I think she felt guilty for not having a present for me too, even though she has already given me a spandex shirt before. She ran out of the classroom and returned moments later with something for me. It was a dirty, pink tank top that maybe could fit one of my arms, wrapped in a pillowcase. I thanked her as I tried to keep myself from laughing. I am sure her mother is now wondering what happened to her daughter’s pink tank top. I can’t help but smile just thinking about how adorably sweet the thought was…

I was happy to see my students responding so well to Callie and giving her so much love. From what Callie has told me, she gets a lot of love from her students, but she doesn’t have class often. In fact, she has class almost never. I feel like I have a ridiculous amount of days off, but my days off don’t even compare to Callie’s. She has taught a total of 26 days of school. I have taught probably 45-50 days. Even though Callie’s director doesn’t seem too concerned with her student’s education, she hasn’t given up on them. She has heartbreaking stories about some of her students being abused, mentally, physically, and emotionally. I feel so for her students, but I am happy to know that they have Callie as a role model for the year. She is so kind and I know she will bring a lot of light into their dark lives. As far as I know, none of my students have endured the abuse that many of Callie’s students have been subjected to. I feel blessed to be part of this community.

I will be visiting Callie in mid-June. I am looking forward to experiencing another community, especially one so drastically different from mine. Though I am not too stoked about the long bus ride I will have to take, I know it will be worth the ride. Her secluded beach is known as one of the best in Costa Rica. I am looking forward to meeting her host family, students, and towns people and getting a taste of her experience here.

A new found phobia.

I’ve never been afraid of an animal. I didn’t inherit my dad’s fear of snakes, nor do I share my brother’s fear of spiders. I mean, I am not a fan of snakes, especially when I see them in their natural habitat but I can handle being around them. Spiders don’t really freak me out, except for the time my 8^th grade English teacher squashed one and hundreds of spider babies fled from its squished body… that was nasty, but not necessarily scary. No, leave it to me to be afraid of much more legitimate things, like Mickey Mouse and Santa Clause. Ok, so I am not afraid of people dressed up anymore, well not really anyway. My heart still beats really fast when I am approached by someone in costume, but I don’t hide under the table, like I did when I was a child at Chucky Cheese birthday parties, or when Santa came out at the annual Christmas Brunch my family attended… I have grown out of that phase. So, up until today I could honestly say that I was living with no real intense fear of anything. Then I arrived home and found a furry thing with wings waiting for me. My reaction was “HOLY MOTHER OF GOD WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU?!?!” My host mother ran to see what it was I was yelling about in English… I apparently sounded panicked. She laughed and said “Oh Laurita solo es un mariposa.” Translated, “Oh little Laura, its only a butterfly.” I am often looked at like I am crazy for saying things wrong in Spanish, or when I try to explain things that happen in America, like the Easter Bunny… but now it was my time to look at my host mom like she was crazy. This ain’t no butterfly, woman. This looks like the outcome of a bat and tarantula mating session. I am not afraid of bats. I am not afraid of tarantulas. I am now, however, super afraid of what I believe is the mix between the two. It hasn’t done anything to me…yet. Well actually, it hasn’t even moved from the spot on the wall where I first encountered it two hours ago. But I have a feeling this thing has the ability to attack and kill. Maybe I am being a bit dramatic, but I’ve never seen anything like it. I think that is what scares me the most about it. It is only 4 inches from the tip of one wing to the tip of the other. It has very furry legs, two that poke out by its creepy little face like they are going to grab you at any minute. It also has longer hair by its face that, to me, resembles an old man’s bushy eyebrows the poke out in all sorts of directions and curl up. Why am I wasting all this time explaining it to you… a picture is worth a thousand words, right? 

Freaky, am I right? I think I am going to need to pop a few Tylenol PM to have any chance at sleeping tonight. 

Oh, and while we are on the subject of my host family often thinking I am crazy... 

Remember my post a few weeks back when I spoke of a juice that was served to me and I claimed it looked like fish eggs and everyone called me crazy... Well I promised y'all a picture of that the next time I was served it so here is that photo, for your entertainment. 

Am I the only one out there that thinks this "juice" looks like fish eggs?

Homemade remedies, no thank you!

Semana Santa break is over and I am back into the swing of things here in Mollejones. I had a great break at home in the States. I indulged in all my favorite foods, took plenty of hot showers, and spent quality time with my family, friends, and dogs. Back to work…

I had a rough first day back on Monday. Things started off well, with my fifth and sixth graders proving to me that they hadn’t forgotten anything over the week break. It wasn’t until after lunch that the day took a turn for the worse. I was in the middle of teaching my fourth graders when I suddenly got very hot and my stomach started churning. I’ve never had a sickness hit me so hard and so fast. I ran to the bathroom where I found students who had chosen the bathroom as their hiding spot in a game of hide-and-seek, I yelled at them to get out and then I proceeded to throw-up while all my students gathered outside the door wondering what was wrong with me. I put my head under the sink and took a deep breath before opening the door to my students who were all standing there looking at me like I was a sick puppy. I apologized to the students I yelled at and then went looking for my director to tell her I was sick. I found her in the kitchen and before I could even get a word out she asked me what was wrong… apparently I looked as bad as I felt. She asked me if I wanted to ride back to Pacayitas on a motorcycle or wait a few hours for the bus. I chose the latter option, as the idea of riding on the back of the motorcycle didn’t sit well with my stomach and I proceeded to get sick again. I asked all the students playing in my classroom to please leave, I closed the door and sprawled out on the cold tile floor. I called my mom… I don’t think anyone ever grows out of wanting their mommy when they are sick. A little while later my director knocked on the door to give me some fresh squeezed lime. No water, no sugar, just straight lime. She said it would settle my stomach… but it didn’t. Later, one of my student’s mothers came with her house remedy for stomach viruses. Every woman here has her own solution, it seems. She told me it would taste bad but it would heal me. I’ve tasted some pretty bad homemade medicines here before, but this one takes the gold medal for absolute worst tasting thing that has ever entered my mouth. I knew I was in for something awful as I brought the cup up to the mouth… the smell was so bad. I closed my eyes and took a sip. I don’t know how my body managed to swallow the nastiness. I handed the cup back, shaking my head, repeating “no! no! no!” I would rather be sick for the rest of my life than have to ever taste another drop of that “remedy.” The school cook, who has become a good friend, laughed at me and said I must be exaggerating. She took a spoon to try some for herself. I was shaking my head at her and telling her she would regret it, but she didn’t listen. She took a spoon full and it was less than a second before she spewed the liquid out on to the ground. She then put her mouth under the sink and rinsed out the leftover awfulness. I laughed and said, “I told you so.” I sprawled back on my classroom floor and waited for the bus.

I was so excited when the bus finally arrived. I couldn’t wait to get home and into my bed. For some reason it hadn’t even crossed my mind about how terrible the bus ride home would be. The unpaved, mountain roads, make for the most uncomfortable rides on any given day in any sort of vehicle. If a cockroach were to climb aboard a “Shake-Weight” he might then know what a ride to Pacayitas feels like. It is not pleasant. I set a goal for myself to not toss my cookies on the way home. It was the longest 40 minutes of my life. I came close to getting sick at one point, but a heaven sent gust of wind flowed through the window, settling my stomach. I made it back to my house just in time to get sick there. Shockingly, no one was home. I was sure my host mom would have heard by now that I was sick and would be waiting for me. I have to say I was a little relived that she hadn’t yet heard because I was not in the mood for any more homemade remedies. I just wanted to sleep. When my host mom came home and saw that I was sick she immediately went into doctor mode. I am so grateful that she cares enough to look out for me but communicating in Spanish seems to get 100 times more difficult when I am sick and it is so frustrating. She kept asking me what hurts, and what I want, and what I need but my brain couldn’t put it together in Spanish to explain to her all that I wanted and needed. I finally was able to keep down some water and Tylenol PM and passed out for the night. I didn’t feel any better when I woke up Tuesday morning. My stomach was still not in the mood for food. I spent the morning in and out of sleep. Finally around noon I told my host mom I wanted to try to eat. She made me beef broth and rice. I managed to eat a little and then fell back asleep for a couple hours. I woke up feeling much better. My headache had subsided and my stomach pain was gone. I was so relieved that whatever stomach bug I had only lasted twenty-four hours. It was a miserable 24 hours and I am glad it is over. I have been feeling great ever since waking up from that nap on Tuesday.

I am so proud of all my students, as they have managed to retain all the information I taught them before their break. They actually appear to be more focused than ever, which I am sure won’t last long. Time is flying by. I cannot believe it is almost May! Well, I better get back to work… I’ve got to finish making my body-parts bingo boards.