Tuesday, September 30, 2008

$

When we took our Lipscomb trips to Cozumel, Mark Jent would always tell us the the exchange rate was better than ten pesos to the dollar, but that it was just easier to think of it as ten to one in the moment.
When I got to Culiacán, the rate had been 9.6ish throughout July.  When I paid in dollars in places, they gave me a 9:1 rate.  The bank gave me a 10:1 rate when I first changed money at the end of August.  Now, in some banks, it's at 11.something.  I find that amazing as our economy continues to decline.  I'll be changing all my money tomorrow at the ScotiaBank down the street, who has the best rate around.

Yoga Caliente

That's what it's called.  Hilarious.
On Thursday, I called the number I had gotten several weeks ago about a yoga class.  Turns out it's hot yoga!  It's the exact yoga I do.  It's $10 a class which seems hefty for Mexico, but I'm willing to pay it to get back to feeling like the aligned version of me again!
I left the house at 6 to make sure I was there by 6:45.  Mabel had considered going with me, but then didn't, so I wanted to leave enough time for my two-bus trip.  I got downtown and did the bus change without a problem (I'm a pro now, you know!).  I arrived exactly at 6:45.  I walked in and no one was there.  I saw the sign in sheet: a notebook.  I waited for a minute or two and the owner/teacher came in from out back.  I signed in.  She showed me around.  My first class is free.  So I got my mat where I wanted it, eager to see what the Spanish version of my daily ritual would sound and feel like.
I came back out into the lobby and there were many more people all of a sudden.  I sat down and Cecilia looked at me and asked if I usually came to the morning class.  I told her I was from the States, here on exchange yada yada, and that this was my first class here.  From there we had an extensive conversation about her friend from high school who was in Culiacán on exchange who is her good friend to this day.  Then we talked about yoga (There was a picture of Kenny Chesney from an article where he cited that he does hot yoga, so I name-dropped, not that she knew who he was).  Then it was time to begin class.
We walked in and everyone was talking which is very different from my studio in Nashville.  But then it settled.  The floor was a harder floor than I'm used to, and my body is way outta whack from my 6 week hiatus, but it was a good class.  Every teacher is different, and of course I miss PJ (my favorite in Nashville), but I really enjoyed being back there.  I could tell it had been a really long time.
On the way to yoga, I had noticed a line that wrapped around the block of a plazuela (plah-SWAY-lah), another version more or less of plaza.  I couldn't figure out what was going on.  
When I left yoga, I promptly caught a bus right outside the studio.  (The owner graciously let me leave my mat there since I take the bus and don't live near.  She also said that the man who works for her would wash it with her others.  Wow.)  I got off where I needed to and bolted for my next stop in case my bus was rounding the corner.  It wasn't.  Nor did it in the next 15 minutes.  Finally, I walked up to the people eating in the alley (in a make-shift restaurant of sorts that Mexico is famous for-carts with food and benches to sit on make for a perfect dinner) and asked them if the buses had stopped running.  I had seen loads of other buses, just not mine.  After a lengthy discussion about where the bus stop would be (I already knew this!), they told me that yeah, it had probably stopped at 8 or 8:30.  It was now 9.  I asked how much a taxi should cost me from there to my house so I wouldn't get ripped off.  One thing you learn in the culture part of a Spanish class is that you get the price of the taxi before you get in, or else when you get there, you'll have to pay whatever they say and it'll be too much.  They said 50 pesos so off I went.  Well, I had to walk through the plazuela and saw the signs for the boxing match (or game? or fight?).  Boxing.  That's what had drawn 2/3 of Culiacán out of their homes to stand in line (which they don't seem to do anywhere else!).  Interesting.
I hailed my cab and noticed a free yoga class at the botanical gardens (don't get too excited- we're not talking Cheekwood here) this Saturday.  
The taxi driver had great conversation- asking what I was doing here, where I had been, and suggested places for me to go.  Then when I got home, Mabel looked relieved to see me.  It had been over three hours, after all, since she'd last seen me.  I told her about the buses.  Then I told her about the free yoga.  She said that this is the 475th (I think, not remembering the number so well right now) anniversary of Culiacán's founding, so they were having all kinds of famous people to the city.  I plan on going.  Should be fun!
Thursday, Mabel is going to go with me to class.  I'm interested to see what she thinks!
She will also be taking me to the airport on Thursday to exchange my ticket to come home in December.  Apparently the ticket changed and since I have a paper ticket, I have to physically go to the AeroMexico booth and get it changed.  I'm totally willing to do that for Christmas!
And that's all she wrote.

I got Mail!

I got home from yoga tonight (more in the next) and Mabel said I got something.  It was an envelope and she had a strange face.  It was my ballot!  She asked me why I had it.  Why they would send it here.  On and on and on.  No matter, I got it.  So it looks like regular letters should make it.  My address is on a blog from early September I think.  And I think it's called write me or something clever like that.  So if you're interested, go ahead and send me stuff.  If not, I know you love me in other ways.
I'm already feeling very patriotic.  I filled it out, signed it and sealed it.  Now I just have to battle the post office.  That is on my list of things to do THIS WEEK.

Wretched lesson plans

...aka a grande waste of time.  I'm finished and annoyed that I'll be doing that again in a week and a half.  Oh, well.  When in Rome...
I guess I shouldn't complain since I have all the time in the world to do them!

1st grade et al

Today was another one of those average/amazing days.  It's hard to explain.  I was so tired this morning and realized I had set my alarm earlier for my earlier day, but for the time I was supposed to leave the house instead of the time I was supposed to wake up!  I did my rush to get ready and still arrived at school ten minutes early.  Some things will never change.
Today is my "long" day because I teach 5 groups (that's 4.5 hours, Lori) instead of 4.  It also means that I have to be ready for two different groups before recreo.  I know that seems easy, but it's tricky getting copies when they're not as accessible as one would hope.  Knowing that I only need copies for 1st grade until recreo when I can make more makes for a calmer morning.
I was teaching 1st grade (another average/boring lesson) and I was loving it.  They were listening.  They were responding (in English).  They were smiling.  I remembered some of their names.  I still have a few girls that run together.  I just kept thinking how happy I was to be here.  how fun it was to see these adorable faces in their sweet uniforms.  I really really enjoy first grade now.  One of my groups is still much harder than the other, but that is typical.  I went from there to second grade, which is a big group and energetic.  That can be good or bad depending on the day.  For the most part they're energetic because they like learning English.  Since they're a big group, I have to be louder.  I've gotten a bit sick.  Not sick sick, just sick.  I don't feel bad at all, but the change from hotter than fire outside to cold air conditioning inside is taking a toll.  I think the air conditioner in Mazatlán was a catalyst.  My throat has been dry since Sunday.  Today when I walked downstairs to talk to Mabel after being in my room a few hours without talking, I sounded really hoarse.  Anyway, I was pretty busy during recreo getting my copies.  Then I taught 3rd (who can be a nightmare) and 6th.  I just love 6th grade.  They did some work with a partner (which they are so not used to, so not all of them participate yet), and I circulated for most of the class.
Before I left Tennessee, Megan and I had discussed the option of a tour for fourth graders ending in Culiacán and working with my students.  That's now not going to work out.  But my mind went back to a presentation I saw in DC of a gal who had just returned from her year exchange in Sonoro, Mexico (the state between Arizona and me).  She took her high school students with her to Maine (where she's from) for Spring Break.  I have written a grant to get some webcams for Lockeland and Rafael Buelnas in hopes of some interview air time, but now my mind is racing to find funds to support a trip.  The high school students paid their own way, but I'm thinking most of the families here couldn't pay even the $1300 plane ticket to the States.  I'm brainstorming...  If you have any ideas at all about any of this, share them with me.  I'm not sure it's even possible.  But how amazing would that be?!

Monday, September 29, 2008

Ana Luisa

She's the woman who picked me up at the airport with Mabel and she's a supervisor of some sort.  She lived in Chicago for 6 years teaching Spanish.  She's great.  Her daughter is the one we heard sing in Altata that second weekend I was here.
She came to school today.  I was just starting third grade (my challenge, mostly because of their size, but also because they give my class a run for our money) and she walked in.  I was happy to see her because it's been awhile.  She said she had meant to arrive during recess, but it had just ended, so she was quick.  She wanted to get on the same page about Casa Achoy.  It turns out they're not paying me.  So she didn't want me to go and get sucked in to working for free.  I told her no problem.
At the end of the day, I had a text from Marielos (director of the program) asking who had told me I'd get paid.  I told her I must've been confused and to let me know when she knew something and that I'd start then.  
Then I had an email from Maribel (enlace) telling me we'd had a misunderstanding (ya think?) and that she was looking into it for me.
So it looks like my afternoons are free again.
I'm looking into a Pilates or Zumba class.  We'll see what the verdict is.  As usual, you will be the first to know!

More bus

For every woman I've had to crawl across on the bus to sit in the window, who did nothing to make that easier for me, there have been at least as many people who were helpful.  I've been pretty amazed at how aware people have been on the bus of elderly and women.  I got on the bus one morning and it was full and a man got up and let me have his seat.  I see that almost every time I'm on the bus.  
Today, on the way to school, a blind couple was walking up the road and it was obvious they heard the bus and started walking toward it.  We would have to wait about 2 minutes for them to get to us, so I assumed we'd leave them.  The bus driver waited, asked them where they were going, and when it was obvious they needed the same bus going the other direction, he got out and walked them across the street, flagging down the bus.  
This afternoon, the red shirts invaded again.  As it got fuller and fuller, a teenage boy got up for his female classmate.  Another tried and the girl said, "Keep your seat.  I'm fine; stay seated."
Chatting with Mom tonight, she was telling me about some kids I used to babysit.  When they were babies.  The oldest is now a back-up quarterback for my alma mater.  He's a sophomore.  His baby sister is on the golf team.
That made me feel really old.  As I write this, I realize I'm one of those old people now, not just because someone got up for me to have his seat, but because I see "kids" (I feel like I'm about 2 years older than these high school kids until I realize I've called them kids) doing the right thing and appreciate it.  Who am I and just where did the time go?!

Language differences

I love Mabel's family because they speak slowly and try to tell me things they think I'd want to know.  Her dad makes sure I've eaten and have seen everything I need to see.  Maricela makes sure I understand what's being said, and Alma tells me about tourist places/places I should visit.  They all speak pretty slowly, very clearly, and I understand them pretty well.
Saturday night, when Alma, Mabel and I were walking to get my blizzard, I said something about Yuri, and I said it like this: "The woman who is in my classroom."  I used the word mujer for woman, which is the correct word.  Alma responds, "mujer" and laughs.  They both kind of laugh.  Here we go again, I think.
Alma tells me that she talks like that.  She uses that word, but here more people say muchacha. That's the word you learn for "girl" so I was surprised.  That's just one of those regional things that you learn with a language.  Well then later, after I had been talking, Alma started telling me about a friend of hers "who talks like you" who had moved to Mexico a few years ago but now was more Mexican than she.  Meaning he loved the music, culture, etc.  This conversation came about after discussing piropos (the way men "cat call" here) and how it's just not done in the States, and if it is, it's tacky.  That led to more discussion of greetings and departures and how you speak to every person and I explained that we just do it differently.  Anyway, in talking about this man, she was talking about his accent and how it's still so American, and Mabel chimes in with how hard it is for Americans to get the Mexican (and she meant Spanish in general, not just from here) accent, how you could always tell when an American was speaking Spanish.  I countered with, "Just like it's hard for you with our accent and we can always tell when someone who speaks Spanish is speaking English."  She was shocked.  "Really?" she asked.  
It's amazing to me, I guess how we're never in a context to let us know this.  I mean, unless you grow up bilingual, you can't know exactly what the languages sound like and how they actually should sound.  What I mean is, a child who speaks two languages at home, will naturally hear both languages.  I, on the other hand, picked up Spanish at age 19.  Well, began the process.  I'm probably never going to sound native, even if I live somewhere for years.  Sad but true.  
When I'm at home and go to Walmart or wherever and hear a Spanish speaker speaking English, I know immediately, as do you, that they're a Spanish speaker.  "I'n" instead of "I'm" and "eet" instead of "it," etc.  
It's strange to me that with 10 years of Spanish study, travel and understanding (more than just words), that I haven't realized until this trip how I sound to natives.  So, my goal now, is to make sure people who think my accent is atrocious/very American realize (kindly) that that's how their English sounds.  I've already taught that lesson to my students here.  And I will continue.  Every time I speak Spanish to them (to clarify a point, which I really shouldn't do), I remind them that that's what their English sounds like and that's why they're learning early.  I heard one time that if you learn a language after puberty, you have no hope of sounding native.  Your mouth muscles have already formed for the language you've spoken all your life.  Speaking any other language requires other muscles that have not been formed in the same way, and consequently never will.
Who knows how accurate that is, but I believe the theory behind it.

Mazatlán

What a weekend!  After Mabel greeted me (after a crazy day of only teaching one class and being shuffled off to a professional development meeting) with, "Laura Klapheke, you are late," I grabbed the two things I had left to pack (pillow and mask) and tossed them in my suitcase.  I had planned on changing out of my skirt into some shorts, but I knew Mabel was already drumming her fingers so I decided against it.  I grabbed my Land's End carry-on that has served me SOOOOOO well since Columbia Avenue gave it to me for graduation from high school.  I have dragged that sucker all over creation since then.  It has lost some zipper pulls, but other than that, it's perfect!  As I was rolling it across the parking lot between our house and bus stop, I was realizing that it may not, in fact, last forever.  The wheels are going to get a run for their money this year with the crazy terrain. We got on the bus, and I was in charge, since I was the one who'd been to the bus station by bus before.  I felt pretty good for knowing how to get us both around!As we passed through downtown to get our second bus, we stopped in Tacos Hermanos Morenos, my favorite taco dive.  We each got a quesadilla to go.  Mabel mentioned that it's just not as good to-go as it is when you're eating there, but we were hungry and it was approaching 2:00!
We got to the bus stop and bought our tickets.  It was about 13 dollars, and I was nervous about how the ride would be.  The answer is: nice.  It was two hours on the dot and a "non-stop" ride.  We actually made two stops, but they were very brief.  They were the kind of stops the city buses make; two people on, two people off, we're on our way!  An old man and a younger woman stood the first 45 minutes until we stopped.  I don't know why.  There weren't seats, but what I mean is I don't know why they were on the bus if there were no seats.  I was glad we had gotten on quickly because we did not have assigned seats!  
Thank goodness it wasn't us standing the whole time.  With about 30 minutes to go, a man got on the bus selling empanadas de piña.  Basically a pineapple pastry.  They were two for a buck, so I got two.  I needed to try them.
We got off at the bus station in Mazatlán (can't tell you how glad I ma that I've found my accent marks!) and Mabel told me we would be taking a pulmonia (pull-moe-KNEE-ah) instead of a taxi or bus.  It was kind of like a car but not and it would be cheaper.  (See picture above, but this particular pulmonia goes with the story later.) 
Our pulmonia dropped us at our hotel (Emporio) for 50 pesos.  I walked in and was amazed.  The lobby is open air.  You walk in and go down some steps, but there are no walls.  You walk right up to the desk.  We checked in more or less and then walked up another set of steps to the pool and ocean view (see first 2 pics).  Who's ready to come visit now?!
Cosette and Alma were already swimming (they had left at 11 that morning) and Papá was chilling in a lounge chair.  We had to get his credit card so they would let us in our room.  So we did that, changed in to bathing suits and went to their room to refresh everyone's beer.  As we were walking up, Mabel said, "And by now you know that we can't do anything without beer."  So true.
We swam in the pool and it was wonderful.  We thought we might try to ocean, but it was a red flag and a white flag meaning don't swim and jellyfish.  My one encounter with a jellyfish was enough to make me RUN in the other direction for the rest of my life, so we checked out the pool.
Friday night, we ate dinner around 9:30 after getting cleaned up.  In a non-Laura manner, I ordered a club sandwich.  It was delicious and came with fries.  But after a day of bus travel and sun, my eyes were drooping.  Mabel was ready to go dancing.  I had to pass.  She and Alma headed to the Oyster bar while Cosette, Papá Jaime (HI-may), and I went for a quick stroll.  He took me up to Malecón (mall-ay-CONE), which was the same name as where Mabel and I had walked.  I asked him what that meant, as it was a word unfamiliar to me and I wasn't sure if it as someone's name or what.  He said a malecón was any walkway that runs along a river, lake, ocean, etc.  After that 5 minute walk, we went back to go to bed.  At 5, I heard Mabel come in.
Somehow, at 7:30, she popped out of bed.  
We got dressed and called the other room to see what time we wanted to eat breakfast.  They had a great buffet.  We ate outside, and in the shade with the breeze, it was really nice.  I had amazing fresh fruit, granola and yogurt.
Papá Jaime wanted me to see all there was to see, so we drove around the waterfront to the lighthouse.  We stopped to see the fresh fish for sale.  We stopped to see the little shops.  We stopped to look at the water.  The whole time, I was thinking, "I need to be on exchange in Mazatlán!"
We headed back to the hotel and swam and I lay out for awhile.  We decided to check out the ocean again.  It was still jellyfish infested, but we walked up the beach to look into parasailing and sailing.  The parasailing was from another location and already rented out for all day.  The sailing was 300 pesos for all three of us, so we jetted back to the hotel and got money.  
Alma had only brought change, so she was bumming off her dad the whole time.  We paid for the first 100 pesos and climbed aboard.  It was a wee bit nauseating at first, but then it was just breathtaking.  Mazatlán is gorgeous in general, but to be in the ocean, and see where you were, and see that you're headed to this island.  So neat.
It took about an hour to get from where we began to the island.  When we got there, we got in the water for a bit.  Our boat driver (sailor?) told us there were no jellyfish.  I'm not sure why I believed him, but we didn't see any, so no harm no foul.  
When we got back, we were absolutely famished.  It was about 4 and we hadn't eaten since breakfast at 9.  
So we cleaned up and went to a seafood place that Alma wanted to go to.  Cosette wanted sushi, but who eats sushi at the beach?  Okay, a lot of people, but who eats sushi in Mexico? :) Alma and I both really wanted shrimp.  Mabel actually wanted pizza.  But we all decided to go to seafood.  We got another pulmonia and off we went to our restaurant.  I asked the guy if I could get a picture.  I had wanted one when we got to Mazatlán, but hadn't gotten one because off we went!  He obliged of course.  Then he told me that he would come back for us in an hour if we wanted.  We were kind of off the beaten path (not too far, but not near the main drag), so I guess not too many taxis/buses/pulmonias would be passing through.  I asked the girls and they said sure.  The food we ate was indescribable really.  I had shrimp tacos.  It came with three and some white rice.  I had lemonade to drink which is so quenching in this heat.  Alma and Mabel had ordered shrimp pate for us all to share (which they eat on tostadas- basically one big tortilla chip in the shape of, well, a tortilla).  As we were eating, some guys walked in and the girls waved and then got these expressions that made me wonder what was going on.  
They were checking out what was going on at the guys' table but didn't want to be seen.  I was so confused.  Turns out they had seen them at the oyster bar the night before.  Alma said, "Always curl your eyelashes.  The instant you don't, you know you'll run into to someone.  You just never know."  And with that, she pulled down her sunglasses.  I was cracking up.
Before our meal was finished, the taxista came back for us.  He parked and waved.  While we were finishing and paying, he cleaned his pulmonia and waited. At one point we looked up and thought he was gone, which kinda ticked me off since he'd already been waiting fifteen minutes (what was five more?), but we realized he'd just moved so a woman could back out.  
He took us back to our hotel where we dropped Cosette off and walked up the beach to the Oyster Bar.  The girls got a bucket of beer for less than 10 bucks.  I ordered a Coca Light and it came in a large glass with plenty of ice, but at a price: $3.50.  That's US dollars.  Wow.  I told them that in the States you NEVER pay that much for a coke and that you get free refills.  They agreed that it was too much, but were surprised that it was more than the most in the US.  
As they were finishing their beers, in came the cops.  They were checking for IDs.  Interesting.  They said starting at 8:30, you couldn't be in there without IDs.  They had left everything back at the hotel, so we finished up and headed out.  Note: finishing up in this case meant that Alma poured her last beer in a to go cup and walked out in front of the cops.  Different.
From there we walked around.  I wanted some ice cream, so we went to Dairy Queen.  I got a snickers blizzard, and besides the fact that it was soupy from the heat, it was DELICIOUS and hit the spot!  We continued walking when Alma realized she was hungry.  So she got a hot dog.  At that moment, my phone rang and it was Ashley calling.  I was expecting her call since it was her birthday.  It would've cost me an arm and a leg to call her since I was out of my area and she already had an account set up to call me, so it worked out.  I think it still drained me of my minutes because I have to buy more credit, but such is life!  It was really good to talk to her.  I was sad to miss the Smith family birthday dinner (her sister's birthday is two days before, and I've been a guest at the dinner for the past 4 years at least, maybe 5), but I'll catch it again in September 09.
From there, we went back to sit by the pool for a bit.  We continued our previous conversation about languages (next entry) and then decided to just call it a night.  Alma came to our room for a bit.  While we were at the pool, three guys from their 2nd floor balcony called down to us and asked if we wanted to go dancing.  Mabel said yeah, we needed to eat dinner and get changed, but we'd meet them in two hours.
Hilarious.
In our room, we chatted more about the differences in languages and then Alma went up to her room.  The next morning at 8, Cosette and Alma knocked on our door to say goodbye.  To everyone's surprise, Mabel was still asleep.  We got up around 9:30, got dressed, and went out for breakfast.  Then we packed up and hailed another pulmonia to the bus station.  We caught a last minute bus to Culiacán and got there in about 2.5 hours.  I guess the driver makes the difference in time?  We bussed it back home where Mabel slept the afternoon away, and I wrote pointless lesson plans (basically copied the exact words from the teachers' guide, as that is what the form asks for).
Mazatlán was an amazing place that was easy to get to and small enough to navigate by foot.  It had amazing foot and enough to do while still being a relaxing place.  It is highly recommended to any of you who come to visit and need a getaway.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Maribel

Also on Thursday, Maribel called me while at school to tell me we'd have a meeting on Friday at 11 and she would come by at 10 to deliver books and pick me up.  I also received notice that form 8-10 would be parent clean-up day.  The principal sent home a note that parents were encouraged to come help clean the grounds.  In Nashville, if we have beautification days like this, they're on Saturdays.  This was first thing on a "learning day."  I clarified with the 5th grade teacher so I would know how to plan appropriately and she said it should last about 20 minutes.  That meant that my day would look normal until 10 when Maribel got there.  So I would need to cut short my second group (3rd grade, happily!).  At 9:15 they were wrapping up the cleaning, but I was only prepared for 2nd grade, so I went to their class 25 minutes late and stayed there until Maribel showed up at 9:45.  We gave ourselves a headache again trying to figure out the whole book situation.  Finally we kind of just gave up and made the numbers work!
We went to the meeting which was more or less a professional development.  A man got up and presented some classroom management techniques.  Then Maribel told us that in groups we would be doing a lesson plan since NO ONE had turned theirs in.  It seems here in Culiacán, you turn in your lesson plans on the 1st and 15th of each month.  That's right: two weeks of plans turned in (let me tell you how often your plans change in elementary school... it's only that much more in Mexico where you might not have class because of a sick teacher/birthday party/faculty meeting/clean-up day!).  
Maribel told us she'd fine us 50 pesos every time we didn't do it and that would fund our cakes at our meetings!
I left there Friday knowing I would spend all of Sunday afternoon and probably Monday and Tuesday as well working on lesson plans.  Maribel dropped me at the nearest Canal Tres bus stop and I scurried as fast as I could back home to meet Mabel and go to the bus station for Mazatlán.  As I was walking up the drive, I hear Mabel from her bedroom window above me say, "Laura Klapheke.  You are late."  It was kinda hilarious.  Off we went.  More on Mazatlán in the next.

Internet & Achoy

Thursday I was internet-less.  I had decided I would not go to Casa Achoy until we had made a decision since it seemed no decision was being made about my pay.  So, Thursday after school, I made my way home and planned on doing things: blog, pictures, tv, chat, etc.  No internet.  So I watched a BUNCH of tv.  I also, consequently, called the yoga place and it's HOT YOGA!  It's not near my house, but the only two times I can go are Tuesday and Thursday nights at 7.  I'll already be at Casa Achoy (get to that later) until 6 and halfway there, so it won't be so bad!
Wednesday at Casa Achoy, I had distanced myself enough from the situation to decide I wanted nothing to do with Casa Achoy.  I mean, I wanted to do it and get paid, but it seemed that would not happen.  When I got there Wednesday, no kids showed.  The whole time.  We spent the first little bit getting ready and he vented a bit about enlaces and their jobs and how some of them don't do their jobs and get to sit in a/c (I don't know what he's complaining about; all his jobs are in air conditioning).  We got everything set up and then he said sometimes, when the enlaces don't inform the school well enough, the kids don't come, but that we needed to wait until after 5 when the second batch has had a chance to get there.  He put in the promotional DVD for Casa Achoy as well as English in general for Culiacán (I found my accents!) and I watched the thing from start to finish.  It made me really ready to work there.  For lack of a better term, there's a production in December.  Throughout the next few months we'll choose a few talented and special kids to come on Fridays in November and every afternoon in December.  We drop our other class and work with this select group on the production.  It'll include a synopsis of what we taught them when they came about Octavio Paz as well as some Christmas things (since it will be Christmas time).  Should be interesting doing a Christmas show in a tank top!
So I got excited about it, but knew that I shouldn't keep going until I was told I was getting paid or else it would be Christmas, I would be putting on this show and still working as a volunteer!
So Thursday I came home and had NO internet and was peeved, but dealt with it.  Mabel's previous attribution to the weather may make sense.  At 8:00 that night, she got home (she'd been to Altata with Alma, her sister) and it started pouring.  I mean, nonstop.  My window leaks, so she came in to help sop it up (usually a small hand towel compressed in the windowsill does the trick) and was here for over an hour.  The "new" season of Grey (last year's Grey's Anatomy) was on so we watched that while she mopped a whole bucket full of water.  She first used the hand towel.  Then she used Cosette's towel (she was at Papá's to go to Mazatlán Friday morning with them and skip school-LUCKY).  Then she shoved both of those in the window and got the mop.  After Grey was over, the rain had stopped and we went to sleep. 

Lesson Plans

I am back and alive.  I had an amazing weekend, though on Thursday, I had no internet all day long.  Nothing Friday either before leaving for the beach.  I have much to update and will hopefully get to that tonight, but have spent the last 2.5 hours (and will spend most of the rest of tonight) making lesson plans for Oct 1-15.  Here, you must turn in your plans on the 1st and 15th of each month or pay a $5 fine.  I had no idea.  Well, I knew, but I figured since Maribel was at my school every week, she'd just ask me for them and she never did.  SO- here I sit making the first half of the month's plans.  It's kind of annoying. :) I'm not used to making formatted plans (they have a specific format you must follow).  It's basically a lot of busy work.  My principal at Lockeland told us last year she would only check our lesson plans when our teaching became a problem.  She said she knew they were a waste of time and if you can teach what needs to be taught without following some procedure then to do it.
Here I am following the procedure and must turn them in by morning Wednesday.  I want them emailed by Tuesday night, so I'm hoping to get over half of them done today.  At 2.5 hours per grade, it's going to take me awhile.  (Here's the part where teaching grades 1-6 totally stinks!)  More on last week, Casa Achoy, and my weekend in Mazatlan when time permits.
Love to all.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Better Spanish?

Today during recreo, the people who had come during the planning day to tell us that our schedule might change were there.  I spoke to the man that I had talked to on the planning day, and then the woman asked me if I were the English teacher and if the teacher changed every year.  So I explained why I was there, etc.  Then the third grade teacher asked me if my Spanish were getting better.  I couldn't tell if he was asking my opinion or if he thought it was getting better.  So I said yes, and the Special Ed teacher piped in that I was using more words.  I explained that Mexicans speak so quickly.  They don't cut off their words like, who is it, Cubans?  Chileans?  But they kind of "swallow" the last part of words.  They speak with a very closed mouth and many of the words they use are not words I've studied.  Then the 3rd grade teacher told me that I was understanding a lot more and quicker.  So I suppose he was complimenting instead of asking in the beginning.  That did a lot for my confidence!

1st grade

When I was weighing my options for Casa Achoy (I'll not know what the future holds until after class this afternoon, but that could still change), Marielos had mentioned I could cut back my teaching load in order to have the right amount of hours.  How appealing it sounded to get rid of those difficult first graders!  Yet my conscience wouldn't let me.  I felt that was quitting.  As if they knew what had gone down yesterday and in my thoughts, today was AMAZING with both first grade classes.  1A is always a little better than 1B, but they both were very well behaved and involved in what I thought was a lame lesson.  In 1A, I got everyone's name memorized, though I told them I would have to be reminded again on Monday.  After two days of other students and a weekend, I don't have confidence in my memory.  But I was proud of the ones I knew without a doubt (at least 75%).
I also noticed today, while having them repeat my English, that I'm giving a northern accent to lots of things.  I'm typically very aware of my southern roots and I'm decent at covering up the deep south accent when I meet new people (it comes out rather quickly once I'm comfortable in the group), so I didn't want to make my Mexican students too too southern.  However, while teaching clothes with fourth (hat, sneakers) and family with first (dad, mom), I noticed that I sounded like my Cincinnati aunt.  Maybe not quite so dramatic, but much more like a northerner than a southerner.  It made me laugh.  It's hard, though to teach someone to speak correctly, and to be thoughtful of not giving them any accent.  Impossible.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

The Drama that is Casa Achoy

I left the house at 3 in the heat of the day to stop at the Oxxo (gas station without gas) and get a cold beverage for my trek downtown.  I got on the bus and managed to get off at the right spot as well as find my way to Casa Achoy.  I was about 20 minutes early after stopping in several shops in order to not be too early.  I went in and no one was there.  Well, the custodial staff was there, but no Eduardo, no children, no nobody.  The air conditioning was on in our room and the projector that was disconnected yesterday was up and running.  I figured Eduardo was somewhere in the building.  Guess again.
I started getting all of our things out from the office area and unloading them in the classroom.  At 4, I finally went outside and struck up a conversation with the female custodian.  Still no one.  I was beginning to think I'd missed the memo.  At 4:10, with conditions remaining the same, I texted Eduardo asking him if we had groups today and that no one was there.  Within two minutes, he walked in, ridiculously sweaty and apologized in heavily accented English for being late.  Apologized is probably the wrong word.  He basically just admitted that he was late.  Since no one was there (he said this school is about an hour away so they would probably be late), we decided to improve the lesson by utilizing the projector and Smart board.
At 4:30 a boy walked in, but we asked if he could wait until the 5:00 group since no one else was there yet.  At 5, we had 8 students.  We did our little lesson, did the craft, and practiced for the exam.  Marielos (the woman in charge of the program) came in at one point and then left.  After we finished for the day at 6, she was there again.  She wanted to know how I felt, how things were going, etc.  I told her the truth: it's easy and fun.  It's different from school, but I like it.  Then she broke the news.  I'm not getting paid.
Now, I am here to work, and with the 10 hours at Casa Achoy and the 21 hours in school, I still work less here than in the States.  However, all three girls from Culiacan in the States now said absolutely positively do not work for free.  And the Fulbright people told us repeatedly that we are only obligated to the school for 24 hours a week.  I was specifically targeted in DC and told that since the program was new and since it was for primary, I would probably be asked to do many additional things and that I should feel no obligation.
I want to experience a lot.  The problem with the working for free is two fold.  One, the job is from 4-6 every day.  If I want to go out of town for the weekend, I can't go until after 6 on Friday.  Which means this weekend to Mazatlan, I'll be going with Maricela on Saturday morning since she has clinic until 7.  Otherwise I could go with the rest of the family Friday after school.  The second part is more important I think.  If I agree to do this this year, when other US teachers come next year, it will be somewhat expected that they'll give their time for free.  Or if they don't, it will look much worse than if I didn't this year.
I don't need the $100 a month or whatever it would be.  But I also don't need the headache of fighting bus traffic twice a day and so on.
The bigger picture is that I really like this program.  I think it is important and I think the city wants to prove that it is important.  Marielos thought maybe I could cut some of my classes at school and they could get another teacher to teach those.  But in that event, they should just pay me a little instead of hiring a new teacher.  I really want to do both, but as I write this, I think I'm realizing that it can't happen.  I was all set to do my unit on Tennessee in the spring and on being an American.
I know that Marielos was going to look into it.  And I think that the way school is valued here, they would rather everyone be exposed to an hour of my than one group a whole year.  But I disagree.  I'm all about the relationships.  I don't know that I could give up any of my groups.  Some of them bug me to high heavens, but I know them and love them already.
It will be interesting to see what happens, because I'm guessing by tomorrow they'll have a proposition for me.
Knowing that I could say I won't do it feels like I'll sound like a baby.  But knowing that otherwise I'd be working for free feels like I'm being taken advantage of.
More than that, I don't want to disappoint anyone.
Hmm....

School...

I was not excited to go to school today because it is my "long" day.  I have 5 classes instead of four, and I start at 8.  That means that I have to be completely prepared for first grade PLUS another group before recreo.  I knew that I was not prepared copy-wise for second grade, and I thought I wasn't prepared for first, so I set my alarm for 6:20 after a bedtime of after 11 last night.  I got excited uploading my pictures since my internet connection seemed to be fast.  I also got busy looking at different places where I could teach in the future.
Anyway, my alarm went off and I could not believe it was morning.  I thought I would be rolling over for a few more hours of slumber.  Not so.
I'm out the door before Mabel and Cosette even cross their doorway.  I'm on the bus and cold, which is a nice feeling here.  I get to school and Hernan is thankfully not there to chat my head off while I have many things to do, but unfortunately he is actually nowhere to be found and I need his keys to get into the teacher room!
Alas, at 7:50 (I got there before 7:30) I find him and get the door open and the copies made.  I had copied everything for first grade on our planning day, so I actually didn't have too much to do!
I went to first grade as usual.  In my second class of 1st graders, there was an inspector there.  We had been warned that they would be coming, and I actually think it was a proactive helping type of inspection.  Who knows.  All I know is that this woman sat with Martha (said more like a VonTrapp child than Mrs. Stewart since the "th" sound doesn't exist in Spanish), the helpful teacher who took me to the bus station, and talked through my entire class.  Never mind that the children are not listening to me.  Never mind that I'm having to scream my head off.  You two just chat away.  Pretend I'm not here.
I go form that class to teach second, who happen to be on the recreo court with books.  The teacher says, "Is it time for us?" and I answer in the affirmative...
Well, there are inspectors in her room, too, so we will not be having English in there.  Instead, we'll go to the computer lab/teacher room.  The fourth graders jet out of there, and I attempt to teach in there.  It ended up being one of the better class sessions with this group, but as I walked in, I kept thinking of Senora and her rubber bands in Honduras... Just be flexible.  Just be flexible!
At recreo, the teachers discussed the shirts we'd be ordering.  Martha was in charge of finding samples and bringing them to us so we could try them on for size and choose our color.  I chose pink for my Ingles en Primaria shirt, so I knew I didn't want pink.  This shirt is a button up as opposed to the polo style of the other.  I tried mine on and liked the way it fit.  Then the others tried them on.  It was hilarious how high maintenance they were.  I was surprised at how loose they like their shirts.  Everything here seems to be about three sizes too small and that's how it should be.  Body type does not matter.  The tighter, the better.  But these teachers wanted their shirts loose.  Yet not too loose.  "Martha, can you ask them to hem my sleeves up a bit.  They seem to long."  "And Martha, I'd like them to take mine in a bit under the arms.  That part is too loose.  Just one dart on each side please."  I was thinking, "Yeah right I'm going to take an order to the embroidery place and tell them three shirts need shorter sleeves and can you just put a dart on each side of this one."  Wow.
Then we had the issue of color.  Apparently we all have to be uniform for some something or other in November.  I'm not sure what for, nor am I sure of the color we decided.  First we (they) all agreed on white.  Then suddenly it was blue.  Then it was whatever the majority was, I'll vote for that.  Who knows.  I'll let you know when they come in.
When I left, Sandra (the computer teacher/secretary) was still in the teacher room (her classroom) so I said, "See you tomorrow," to which she responded "Lord-willing."  (more or less the translation)  Something about hearing that in Spanish...
Then I ran for my (air conditioned!) bus and one of my 1st grade students got on with his mom and said, "Mom, the English teacher the English teacher!"  I smiled and waved.  As they got off about five minutes later, I shouted, "Goodbye!" and he grinned from ear to ear.
I'm so content!

Where to begin?

I have so much from today.  But I'll begin with the most recent...
After Casa Achoy, I got home near 7pm.  I was beat and emotionally exhausted as well (will go into that later), so I figured I'd chat or update my blog or something and then hit the sack.  6:20 came early this morning!
Mabel and I talked about all that had gone down at Casa Achoy (reading program for all students in Culiacan in 5th and 6th grade) and she asked if we were going walking or if I had work to do.  Work to do, ha!  I considered backing out, but I'm totally following the Fulbright guidelines of do what they offer you.  Besides, her middle sister Alma (not the Alma that is Shania's friend) is in town form Mexico City.  She is the one who is a ballerina and unfortunately Beauty and the Beast just finished its year long tour LAST WEEK!  I'm so bummed because I will be in Mexico City in two months for our Fulbright get-together.  As I think I have mentioned, November (two weeks before Thanksgiving) is when they have found people start going a little crazy.  The newness has worn off and it seems like life, yet the end is not in sight (though it will be for me since I'm coming home for Christmas).  I don't think I'm going to need a vent session or anything of that nature, but I do think it will be nice to see some Americans that I already know and share our experiences.
Anyway, back to tonight.
So I tell Mabel yes, I'll go walking and we load up the car to go to her dad's house to pick up Alma and her little dog (it's a maltese).  When we get there, all are in the kitchen: Dad, Maricela (youngest that I just love), Carlos (boyfriend/not boyfriend), Alma, and dog.  The men are watching some soap opera and Dad of course makes me sit down in his seat and relax.  He's so funny.  Maricela is in her role as cook and is fixing some enchiladas or something, and are we hungry?  Well, not really since I stopped for churros on the way home.  It was that kinda afternoon at Casa Achoy!  (I'm starting my diet tomorrow) :)
Alma and Maricela went at it making drinks.  I thought they were margaritas based on the salt on the edge of the cup.  Papa asked me if I wanted to try it.  I asked what it was as he was handing it to me and he said beer.  I saw things floating on top and was not excited about it, but I figured try it, who knows?
I should've known.  Disgusting.  I almost had to spit it out.  Cosette wanted a sip.  I was glad to see that she was not allowed.
After about 20 minutes there, we were headed out and Papa asked what kind of tamales we wanted for dinner.  Well, I was full from churros, but who can pass up a free authentic Mexican meal?  Not this girl.  Tamales are my favorite Mexican dish in the States.  The ones I've had compared to the ones here, so they're not my favorite dish here.  They're good, just not better than the tacos!
Alma, her dog, Cosette, Mabel and I went on our merry way to the same esplanade from before.  We walked quickly, Mabel and I, while Cosette and Alma took the leisurely pace with the dog.
After one pass, I started running.  I had gotten ahead of Mabel in my walking stride, so when I came back, she joined me running.  She only held on for about a minute and a half.  I did the whole stretch, probably 7 minutes.  Not too shabby considering it's been years since I ran on a regular basis and 5 weeks since I've done anything of serious exercise.
By the time we walked back to meet up with the girls and dog, it was time to call it a night.  Walking to the car, I told Alma that I would be in Mexico City and she asked me for the dates saying that TWO DAYS LATER they start their next show.  Freakin figures.  But she said I could stay with her.  I of course will have a hotel paid by Fulbright, so I will not take her up on that while we have our meetings, but for my extra days, I'm totally in.  She also said she would get me a pass to come see the rehearsal for their upcoming show.  And then she went into all the things I needed to see in Mexico City and all the pueblos around it.  I'm SO excited!  And I'm definitely going to stay the extra two days (one of those days is a school holiday, so I'm only missing one day of school).
We got to the house and Papa sat me right down at the table to eat dinner and had the girls waiting on me hand and foot as usual.  Alma showed me (and Cosette) all her pictures from Beauty and the Beast and from her model photo shoot.  She was chatty and fun to be around and I'm really looking forward to Mazatlan this weekend!
We are our tamales and saw the pictures, and suddenly it was almost 10, so we had to get outta there!  Mabel and I are just tired.  :)
On the way home, Mabel asked me about my school here and we went over some of the differences again.  She asked me if I could change some things, what would they be?  I was excited because sometimes she doesn't seem so interested.  
I became aware this weekend that I might not be painting the best picture of her.  Ashley asked me if she were a Debbie Downer when I said she had been in such a great mood at the birthday party.  She's a happy person and I enjoy being around her.  She's gone above and beyond to help me (practicing my bus route, taking me places, explaining some things) and I'm grateful.  I just sometimes wonder if I'm bothering her.  There I go again worrying about things that don't matter.  I would do this for Yuri, so I need to just get over it.  But when we have conversations like that or we have a really good time, it makes me happy.
So the changes I told her were that the schools would be: 
  • all one building since the outside noise, the entering dogs, etc get in the way
  • English teachers would have their own rooms
  • parents would not be allowed in the classrooms without permission (requiring the one building so they would have to stop by the office)
But I also told her that I knew these were things that couldn't change.
Now we're home and I'm stinky.  I'm going to take a quick shower in hopes of adding one or two more entries before bed.
Nighty night!

Monday, September 22, 2008

Casa Achoy Day 1


Today was my first day at Casa Achoy and I hadn't heard from Marielos or Eduardo since our meeting, so I was still a bit uncertain of exactly what was to go down.  I trusted, though that when they said it would be easy, that time would fly and that I would enjoy it that they were right.  And they were. 
Mabel came home from her school at 2:45 to help me get to Casa Achoy. I had a general idea of where it was, but since it is downtown, we were afraid that a general idea wasn't good enough.  We figured out the exact bus stop I need as well as how many blocks I needed to go in each direction.
We got there early (thank goodness, and no surprise with the combination of Mabel and myself!) and Eduardo was trying to hook up the projector.  
We spent about 20 minutes trying to fix that and Mabel left, confident that I knew how to  get home.  She was right!  We were unsuccessful with the projector, but Eduardo left a note for someone in hopes that tomorrow it would be ready.  Today we would just "wing it."  Cool.  
Then he told me, "Don't you know, Mexico is the country of 'tomorrow'?  Always tomorrow."  Don't I know, Eduardo, don't I know!
The first group arrived and there were 12: 6 boys and 6 girls.  We taught, meaning I read this information sheet, for about 2 minutes. Then we did a review.  The kids needed to know:
Octavio Paz was a writer; he was born in Mexico; He wrote The Labyrinth of Solitude and that won the Nobel Prize.  We asked them yes/no questions and then asked them open ended questions like "Where was he born?"  This is called scaffolding in the world of education.  You support the student as much as possible in hopes of taking them to a higher level.  First you tell them what they need to know.  Then you ask them in yes/no format so they can easily answer and have some small victories.  Then you ask open ended questions for which there is a definite right answer. 
 Then, at a very advanced stage, open-ended questions for which there is either no right answer, or for which and answer must be defended.  They did pretty well.  They played a game with letters, spelling out the key words from the story and then they made a little book with the front cover of The Labyrinth of Solitude, and the keywords and Octavio Paz's biography on the inside. 
The last twenty minutes, we prepared them for their exam at the end of the year.  We listened to some of the listening portion so they would be familiar with the format of the test.  Suddenly time was up.  They were as surprised as I was! 
This is a nice program because the groups are smaller than the classroom groups because it is voluntary and they have to provide their own transportation.  It also is just 5th and 6th grade, so they do pretty well with the comprehension.
I'm going to enjoy this!  I'm also going to go early some days and grab some tacos, horchata and churros before it starts!

CosalA part dos

So Sunday morning, promptly at 8:00, Mabel hops out of bed shouting, "It's 8; let's go!"  I was NOT happy with her pep.  The others, there were 7 of them, left the night before and went to some other house.  I think one of the girls had some connection from work or something.  I don't really know where they went, nor do I care!  All I know is we were up at 8 getting ready, and they were not at the house until 10, when everyone decided we were hungry.  At 10:30 we made our way out of the house on foot to find some breakfast.  We walked through the town and found a quaint little restaurant whose name escapes me at the moment.  We went in and got a table for 12 and ordered (the second picture is the view of the town from my seat at breakfast).  Not knowing when my next meal would be, I bypassed the fruit plate for a ham and cheese omelette (Spanish spelling).  It came with beans, and we were served tortillas.  These tortillas were blue (they called them black tortillas, but blue is a more accurate description).  They must be where the blue tortilla chips come from...  
I chased my omelet with a glass of horchata.  When we all finished, we walked down to the cash register and told what we had and then paid.  Such an easy system for making separate checks.  I hate it when waiters make a big deal about a group being on separate checks.  As soon as we got outside, a man on his bike-store was selling nieves, or ice creams.  It was vanilla, but I was told it was delicious and I must get one.  They offered to share theirs, but I'm not a dairy sharer (unless it's Turner and of course what's mine is his and vice versa-all rules go out the window for my favorite little guy), so I bought one.  The man put strawberry jelly on top (he called it jelly- it was more of a sauce) and I have to admit it was pretty good.  I was too full to eat it, but I managed.
From there, we walked around some more, took some pictures and headed back to the house for clean-up, pack-up and trip to the waterfall.  I ran into the little blue store seen here to buy a Coca Light and a bottle of water.  It was 19 pesos, so I paid with my twenty, got my peso back and met up with everyone at the house.  Later, when the guys went to get some water, they came running for me.  The woman at the store said I had paid with a 200 bill and she needed to give me my change.  I could've SWORN I had given my 20, but once I thought about it, I had used that for my nieve.  
I don't know WHAT happened, but I was glad to get my change.  They all thought I was a moron.
We got in the cars, this time, American style with each person in his/her own seat.  We got to the waterfall and pad the 10 peso entry fee.  I paid for our whole truck (5).  Mabel and I parked outside and we all rode together from that point because the road was bumpy and easier in a truck.
We got there, went up the waterfall and had a great time.  There are some pictures to document the fun.  I was very thankful for my chacos during this trip!  We bought some quesadillas at the bottom of the waterfall and were on our way by 3:30.  
Our ride back included zero stops!  We took the "libre" and it was much faster.  We walked in the door at 6 on the dot.  I was happy to hear that not only had my Titans won, but that the defense kicked some tail!
Since I am currently watching Monday night football (just background noise as it's the Jets and "Thunder" as Maria called the Chargers last year), I am pumped to realize I'll get to watch the Colts game.  I'm hoping for another Manning loss...
The weekend was so fun and I'm glad I went.  There are times here that I think, "what have I done?  This is so awkward or boring or something."  
But then, within the day, it turns out to be so much fun.  This trip already has opened my mind to moving to another city in the US, or traveling abroad to teach English somewhere else.  This whole life as an adventure thing is pretty cool!








  


















CosalA


(Coh-sah-LA)  The magic town is what it's called.
As mentioned in the previous blog, Mabel and I left for Elena's house (the girl whose family has a house in the town) at 1:20 and got there at 1:40, but she was not there.  We waited outside for quite some time.  In the un-air-conditioned outside.  I was hot, so asked for a raspada.  We drove to the raspada stand and I happily spent my 20 pesos for something cold and icy.  This time I had pineapple and it was so delicious!
As we were on our way to get the drink, we got a call from Elena.  She was at her house, and where were we?  Mabel told her we were on our way back, etc.  Elena left the door open because she had to drop off her daughter at her mom's house...20 minutes away.
We got to her house and made ourselves at home until about 3:30 at which point Mabel got our sandwiches out of the car and went to the store to buy us some Cocas!  When she got back, we ate and she said, if they are not here by 4, we're not going!  Shortly thereafter, Elena and Marisol (the girl whose birthday party was at the Sushi restaurant last week) showed up telling us we were just waiting on Edgar, Marisol's boyfriend.  Edgar's dad was letting him take his truck.  Since something had happened to the spare tire, he wanted it fixed before we left since it's dangerous to travel without a spare.  I totally would've just gone.
At the stroke of 4, Edgar pulls up, Elena and Marisol get in his truck, and Mabel and I follow.  At 4:10, we stop at a gas station.  There waiting for us are two other cars of people neither Mabel nor I know!  We begin our travels...    
The day felt much like a trip I took about a year ago to Destin.  It started with 5 of us in a Civic in Nashville.  We stopped to get gas.  Then we stopped in Huntsville to change to a minivan and pick up someone else.  
Then we stopped 30 minutes down the road for gas.  Then an hour or two for dinner.  It was the least planned trip I've ever been on (and 
I blamed it on the fact that boys were in charge).  Anyway, on this trip to Cosala, we stopped a thousand times.  To buy beer, to replenish the beer, to go to the bathroom (beer is an integral part of this culture).  Finally at 7 we were seeing signs for Cosala.  The "libre," or freeway I guess is a close translation, was closed, so after 30 minutes on the road (having only made one stop at this point), we had to turn around and backtrack, finding a new road.  There was no detour.
The signs at 7pm said welcome to Cosala, the Magic Town.  It was a trick.  We had 45 more minutes of windy, curvy, too narrow to be for two cars, yet for two cars road to go.  The view, though, was amazing!  It reminded me of so many places I've been: Jamaica, Guatemala, Honduras, Gatlinburg (just the windy and the feeling that we'd just never get there!).
Finally we were to the town, and it was pretty majestic, magical, charming, quaint.  
We drove to the town square while Elena, Marisol and Edgar drove to Elena's grandmother's house to get the key.  This house where we would stay was a house that the family owned, but it was only for weekends and parties.  I don't think that necessarily correlates to the amount of money a family has, but who knows.
While we were in the square, it was a bit awkward.  Mabel and I didn't know this group and Mabel is not a big talker, and I didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb again...
Mabel sat and had a beer while I walked through the church. They were doing some work on it, but it was very pretty. We were beginning to get bored with the square and the whole party was headed to a bar to pass some time when Elena et al came back.  We followed their lead to teh house which looked from the street to occupy about half a block.  When we got into the actual house, I realized that the yellow wall outside that looked like the walls to the house was partly for the house, but the other part was just the protector wall, like a fence around a yard.  At this point it is 8 and we have not eaten since 3.  I have had nothing to eat or drink and am tired of being in a quiet car (Mabel's radio/CD player doesn't work) and with people who won't talk to me (nor I to them).  Thankfully, Marisol and company bought meat, charcoal and tortillas while they were getting the keys, so we were set for our cookout.  I was excited because at this point I'd paid my $10 (100 pesos) part to Mabel for gas and nada mas (which is a popular phrase here).  Our only problem was that we had no lighter.  While a few of the guys went to buy a lighter, I got to know some of the girls.  
The ice was broken and when the guys got back, I noticed that one of them looked just like Fount (a friend from college).  I'm sure it's a stretch, but he had Fount shoes, jeans, and most importantly Fount facial expressions.  I told his girlfriend that and they thought it was hilarious and he called himself the clone all weekend.
The guys fired up the grill and they served me first.  The meat was HUGE.  I wish I had taken a picture of my plate.   All we had was meat, salsa and tortillas (no cheese, onion or guacamole), but it was delicious.  The salsa was super-spicy, but so tasty.  It took two tortillas to get through half of my meat, but at that point, I was beyond stuffed and definitely miserable.  
We continued eating and talking until about 10:30 when Elena told us that we should go on to the waterfall then since on Sunday it would be packed.  That we would return on Sunday, but it would be so cool at night.  I wasn't so sure.  I wasn't hesitant, but I knew it would just be water at night.  And I also knew that I had not planned on showering, so I was saving my wet and dirty time for the following day!  I did go along for the ride, though.  We loaded up the truck, Mexican style with 10 of us in the back and Edgar driving with Marisol as co-captain.  The ride was fast in speed, but long in duration.  The waterfall was about 30 minutes down the road back toward Culiacan, and then 20 minutes or so more down a dirt road.  It was fun and carefree to be in the back of the truck, not to mention the beauty of an open sky with nothing but stars.  
However, I felt like I was in a movie staged in Mexico.  Watching everyone jump over the side and feeling the wind, it was surreal.
We got there, and we all kind of just stood around for awhile, as if waiting for someone to tell us what to do.  I perched myself on a rock to be able to see the waterfall, and those wading as well as swimming, but with no danger of getting wet.  We stayed for probably an hour and those who swam (in their clothes, YUK!) had a blast.  They kept asking me if I were afraid or if I didn't like to swim or what, and I kept trying to explain my logical side of not wanting to swim in my clothes, not wanting to get dirty and wet before sleeping in my comforter from my bed at Mabel's house that would likely need to be cleaned if I did that after swimming, etc.  
No explanation was good enough, but we were still strangers enough that they didn't throw me in or make too big of a fuss.
We had a good time and then loaded back up in the truck to head back to the house.  The house, you should know, has three bedrooms, but the only room with beds was a bedroom/living room combo.  There were 3 double beds.  As we were getting settled before we ate, everyone kept saying, yeah we'll all fit.  Um, I'm pretty good at math, but it doesn't take a genius to see that 12 people doesn't divide well among three beds and a hammock.  There were 3 or 4 couches, but not the kind we think of.  These were wooden benches with cushions.  The floor was tile.  And was it ever dusty.  It was not looking good, and far be it from me, the new foreigner girl, to claim a bed upon arrival.  I was waiting patiently to be told what to do!  
When we got back from the waterfall, Mabel was exhausted from the 4 hour drive (and 12 hour day since we left her house) so she claimed a bed and went to sleep.  I had something to prove since I had been the first to bed the first weekend here (Marisol and Elena were at that party) and since I had not gotten in the water.  I hung out for the next hour, but then they started telling jokes.  I love a good joke, but they were speaking quickly for one.  For two, jokes are upper level because of the play on words that is usually involved.  And for three I was tired and ready to put my Spanish brain to bed for the night.  That I did.  I crawled into the bed with Mabel.  The sheet looked disgusting (because there are no panes in the windows.  There are holes in the wall for windows with curtains, but when the wind blows, the house gets very dusty.  You can imagine how often it gets swept when they only use the house for weekend parties.  I put my king size comforter underneath and all around me.
The discussion at dinner had been that we would leave early in the morning to beat the crowd to the waterfall.  You can predict what happened.
To be continued...

Breakfast with the Padre

Saturday around 10, after I had eaten breakfast, Mabel asked me if I wanted to do laundry. I did not have much, but last time I said no, I had to wait three weeks and pack all my laundry for my 80 hour journey to Tucson.  I said yes.
We went on over to Dr. Dad's house and Maricela was going at it in the kitchen: cutting fruit, cooking vegetables and making juice!  Mabel started her load (I wish she'd just added my 5 things with her load, but she didn't) and her dad walked in from his appointment.  He asked if I'd eaten breakfast and I said yes.  He said to join him anyway and enjoy some fruit.  Maricela loaded up my plate.  I'm not sure what she did for the next 30 minutes because she was all set to eat with him.  So I sat and we ate and he asked me all kinds of questions.  He's thinking about buying a new Civic, so he showed me the catalogue and asked me what I thought.  I of course told him that I was a huge Honda fan.
Then Mabel came and we talked about our upcoming weekend in Cosala.  Mabel had never been either.  He corrected her and said that she had gone with her mother at some point, but that she was still a very little girl.
He asked about where we were staying and she said in some house and that we didn't know how many would end up going.  He said that if we had no place to stay just to ask around, that the people of Cosala were very friendly and would put us up for the night.
Um.
About an hour later, Mabel's laundry was finished and I put mine in.
After the hour that it took, we were on our way.  We stopped to get bug repellent on the way home since Cosala is known for its mosquitos.
We got home at 12:30 and I had exactly one hour to shower, pack and email/chat with everyone I needed to before I was gone.
Mabel was packed and ready, holding our sandwiches for lunch at 1:15, so I hurried, even though by now I knew no reason to hurry.
This post, though was mostly about Mabel's dad.  I just love him.  He's a sweet man, who wants to have a conversation.  He also is "very boring" according to Cosette.  He's younger than my parents, but has more of a grandparent feel to him.  I enjoy being around him.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

This weekend

I wanted to leave a photo to tide you over, but it won't upload.
I have to get in bed.  After video calling Mom and showering and unpacking from the weekend, I'm beat.  I will update tomorrow between my school that I'm not prepared for, and my afternoon reading job...first day!

Friday, September 19, 2008

Eyebrows Walking

I have started picking up on the gestures down here.  It's funny and automatic; I didn't have to try.  I'm not there yet on hand gestures when speaking, but I'm getting closer- I've already made the effort to do the "come here" correctly.  In English, we have our palm facing up and then we close it meaning come here, or else we do the one finger.  Here, as well as in Honduras and Guatemala, come here is done with your palm down and it's like you're scooping something off of a plate.  More or less.
Anyhow, the thing I've actually noticed is my eyebrows.  When you don't hear something, or are confused, if you don't say "mande," or you don't say anything at all, your eyebrows raise as well as a head jolt backwards.  I have found myself doing that quite often.  Give me another  month and see how well I fit in!

Gracious

Mentioning in my previous blog that the teacher graciously took our picture reminded me of a funny story that many of you may not know.  Those of you who do know it, don't need the specifics...
There was a time in my past, when I received a gift from someone in the education system as a random act of kindness.  Only this person was rarely (well, maybe never if we're talking about authentic kindness) kind to me, so maybe that's a misnomer.  At any rate, it was the winter season, but not yet Christmas or close enough for Christmas gifts.
One morning, this person waltzed into my school and sauntered up to me with a larger than life grin belonging only to politicians and handed me a pack of notecards.  (I often pick these notecards up at Michael's because they're a dollar.  That's ten pesos.)  They're unwrapped and green with the word "Gracious" written in white.  Said politician says, "I thought of you when I saw these, since you're the Spanish teacher and all," followed by a trademark wink and forearm pat.
I appropriately held my laughter until the exit had been executed.  Then I ran to my computer to tell Bewley (who loves this story to this day, three years later and I imagine will to her grave) and ran upstairs to tell Megan.  There is absolutely no point to this entry, but I was reminded of this story and it always makes me laugh!

Teaching a Few

I realize this is a large, very large photo.  I wanted you to see the details, though, so it was necessary.  This is me with my fourth graders.  You'll notice that there are not a thousand of them like there are in all the other grades!  There are only 21 when they're all there.  That makes it so nice and easy.  I complain about 21 at Lockeland because my tables are set up so pretty for 20, and 21 means one child is all alone at a desk.  My mind has shifted a bit (on more than this issue, as you've been noticing in my entries) about the numbers.  I enjoy the size of this class.  They're a bit rough around the edges and come in from recreo to English class very loudly and with lots of energy, but they enjoy the class and for the most part give me their attention (that is to say that since there are fewer of them, when half the class talks, it's not so bad).  This was my repeat lesson of the clothing unit from yesterday with 5th grade.  Remember that there was a year when there was no English, or no book or some such, so 4th and 5th grade are on the same level.  Since yesterday was our in-school "faculty meeting" with students working independently and unattended, I didn't get to have my 4th grade class.  I enjoyed this lesson very much because it gave me a chance to be silly with these two groups, which always wins over your students.  You'll notice the skirt doesn't look to weird, but I put it on over the skirt I already had.  I added the white shirt and cap.  If you look closely, you can see my (smartwool and very thick) sock on my right foot with my gladiator sandal over the sock and my tennis shoe on my left foot.  Their teacher graciously took this picture for me.