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