Last week was full of suprises.
On Monday I went to Alcohuaz one of the satellite schools. I had heard it was the best of all the schools with a caring and dedicated teacher and a slightly different approach topublic education. After expressing interest to Ana the satellite teacher I got up a lot earlier than normal and went with her and Dom over ridiculously terrible roads, as skinny as English country roads but instead of hedges lined with perilous drop offs and mountains, much less forgiving to a drivers miscalculation. However the journey was worth it as the school was wonderful. About 20 children between Primero Basico and Sexto Basico and their 4th graders were better than my 8th graders.
The head teachers theory is that nature and music are very important to the children to have a harmonious education. Therefore they have their own workshop for wood, the walls are lined with some really wonderful drawings and they have songs for everything. We spent the times singing “Yesterday” and Dom began to teach them “Let it Be.”
My Tuesday was average, and then Wednesday I had my first day at the Liceo with the new English teacher and the Quattor Medio, i.e. seniors. They were an unattractive lot who had to take a diagnostic test which most failed. However once we properly began the lesson they were remarkably intuitive about figuring out meanings even if the words are not ones they have specifically learnt. This lack of intelligence/intuition is what is most depressing about the colegio. The children get hung up on a single word and don’t try and comprehend as a whole. Anyway I really enjoyed the first experience with the Liceo and offered to do two hours the next day with Primero A..freshman.
That offer was a mistake. I left the colegio in Pisco at 1.30 got on the bus at 1.40 arrived in Paihuano at the liceo at 2.05 and was told that the teacher, Kettler was not there and not coming to the class of 2.15. There was a frantic search for a teacher with a free period that could stand in the class with me and the 41 freshman, one of the worst classes in the school, but to no avail. Therefore my first experience teaching solo I was completely unprepared, did not even have a whiteboard marker, book, nothing, with a class that stared at me blankly when I said My name is Imogen.
After 45 minutes of trying different things from their book and shouting a lot. I gave up with the curriculum which is stupid anyway and asked about different Spanish music like the cueca, p something which I still can’t pronounce and folklore and had them write down fast or slow tempo, words things like that. The biggest problem is that a reasonable amount were paying attention but the bad ones were so loud I couldn’t hear the ones who were being helpful. Also at the liceo the students spend most of their time hanging out the windows talking to people outside. Luckily for me a security guard saw and came and stood in the door and at one moment said something I didn’t understand which quieted them down for about 5 minutes and when I finished the class 15 minutes early he told me it was fine and he would keep them in the class. He was sufficiently imposing, unlike me, that they didn’t even try to leave.
It was the longest two hours in my life, but as one of the other liceo teachers said. Now I am a real teacher.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Reggaeton
My first club in Chile played a lot of reggaeton, actually it played only reggaeton. And we were there from 12 to 5, which is a lot a lot of reggaeton. The one non-reggaeton song was Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. While the music may have been repetitive to say the least, the dancing was pretty incredible. Ed and Dom and I were the three volunteers and we are not from countries that are blessed with natural rhythm, however with us were Andrea, the teacher from Paihuano, her brother Christopher and his friend Heidi who all had extra Chilean dancing genes. They were keen to teach us how to dance/move and Christopher and Heidi in particular were incredible. They also were useful in pointing out the Pelo Leise girls, which are the rich hot ones as they have really long straight hair, and the flaites which are the equivalent to chav/ghetto-ish. Yesterday in the car back from another teacher meeting Carlos added Poncios, girls who kiss anyone and anything all the time, and Pokemones, not quite sure, to our people classifying vocabulary.
After giving the tests last week, I have spent the week grading the tests as it takes me about a minute and Carlos a lot longer, and restarting teaching them English. They have incredibly bad memories and today we spent two hours with the 5th graders practicing hi, hello, how are you and I’m fine thanks. This is something they should have learned at least by 3rd grade, but one of the girls in the class after an hour of repeating and performing the dialogue got cross because she couldn’t pronounce fine and then said she didn’t understand any of it and stormed off. She is not my favorite student.
My Spanish is still mediocre to terrible, last night I had to explain to Tota why Obama was different from other politicians which required more dictionary searching as I couldn’t bear to dumb down my sentences to my Spanish ability. I also tried explaining John Stewart’s crack about the sun not shining near Cheney and how the temperature was 10 degrees colder but I am not sure if she realized it was a joke.
The teacher’s meeting last night was about using the new books they have for pre-kinder and kinder. We have to use a really hideous dog named Patch with crazed eyes and I am not overly looking forward to it.
Today is my relaxed day as tomorrow I have many more classes, and Friday I start the weaving course and next week I start at the Liceo on Wed. and Thurs with students both bigger and older than me. I do not relish the thought.
x
After giving the tests last week, I have spent the week grading the tests as it takes me about a minute and Carlos a lot longer, and restarting teaching them English. They have incredibly bad memories and today we spent two hours with the 5th graders practicing hi, hello, how are you and I’m fine thanks. This is something they should have learned at least by 3rd grade, but one of the girls in the class after an hour of repeating and performing the dialogue got cross because she couldn’t pronounce fine and then said she didn’t understand any of it and stormed off. She is not my favorite student.
My Spanish is still mediocre to terrible, last night I had to explain to Tota why Obama was different from other politicians which required more dictionary searching as I couldn’t bear to dumb down my sentences to my Spanish ability. I also tried explaining John Stewart’s crack about the sun not shining near Cheney and how the temperature was 10 degrees colder but I am not sure if she realized it was a joke.
The teacher’s meeting last night was about using the new books they have for pre-kinder and kinder. We have to use a really hideous dog named Patch with crazed eyes and I am not overly looking forward to it.
Today is my relaxed day as tomorrow I have many more classes, and Friday I start the weaving course and next week I start at the Liceo on Wed. and Thurs with students both bigger and older than me. I do not relish the thought.
x
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Initial Photos
Theo. Maria and friend Maya
View back towards the house
Halfway up a mountain looking back at Pisco
Walking through the vineyards
Education
The problem with teaching English to these children in Pisco, and Paihuano and the smaller schools is that to learn a foreign language one must first be confident in one’s own. And they aren’t. It was a requirement from Mondo that their volunteers be fluent in English, capable of spelling and speaking reasonably well. Pronunciation is an enormous problem in the school, which is to be expected, what is less expected is the difficulty with writing in either language, copying from the board and reading. Without knowing how their language works, how their letters come together to make sounds, learning English to them is like learning hieroglyphs, they don’t recognize any similarities.
We have just finished giving all the grades the diagnostic test. One quarter of the 200 + students turned theirs in blank or practically. One girl burst into tears, she is in Septimo Basico, which is supposed to be after seven years of English, or at the very least three, and she couldn’t write sentences with I can and I can’t. The Octavo Basico were stumped by verbs such as read, drink, go, watch. We are currently teaching Octavo and Quinto the same things.
Now with that grim view there are a few exceptions. There are 1-3 boys in every class that are really excellent, bright and quick to grasp and remember things. However, those boys in Septimo and Octavo prefer to spend their time being clowns with the less intelligent, intensely irritating boys. As Carlos said yesterday, the 4th graders are more mature. There are more girls that are interested, especially in Octavo, but unfortunately the boys haven’t realized they would impress more of them if they weren’t crawling around under the desks and making animal sounds.
Pisco life continues, relaxed and uneventful. I have continued meeting more of Tota’s friends, playing with the children and swimming in the river where the other two volunteers live. I have had three meetings this week, one in Paihuano which lasted ten minutes and required a 50 minute round trip bus ride, and two in Monte Grande at the Casa de la Cultura. Monte Grande is far enough to make walking annoying and close enough to be a pointlessly expensive bus ride. Starting next week I will make the trip often as I am helping/attending a weaving course that they provide for the girls in Monte Grande. Apparently Monte Grande of all the villages is most at risk for continuing the uneducated cycle of the last hundreds of years. Many parents never finished Basico and many students look to follow in their parents’ footsteps.
I am thrilled about the weaving course, they have six giant looms, I am there to provide English help, a different viewpoint, I am not really sure. Less thrilling is that the classes are on Fridays from 3 to 7!! Apparently so we don’t worry about the time, but I think four hours will make me worry more.
One final note for gardeners, mum, Tota brought home a thin seed shell pod thing, and told me to break it. Inside were three perfectly round black seeds with perfect white hearts that look as if they have been painted on the outside. A freak of nature called Amor en la Bolsa. I think. Anyway I was more interested in a plant then I have been for a while.
x
We have just finished giving all the grades the diagnostic test. One quarter of the 200 + students turned theirs in blank or practically. One girl burst into tears, she is in Septimo Basico, which is supposed to be after seven years of English, or at the very least three, and she couldn’t write sentences with I can and I can’t. The Octavo Basico were stumped by verbs such as read, drink, go, watch. We are currently teaching Octavo and Quinto the same things.
Now with that grim view there are a few exceptions. There are 1-3 boys in every class that are really excellent, bright and quick to grasp and remember things. However, those boys in Septimo and Octavo prefer to spend their time being clowns with the less intelligent, intensely irritating boys. As Carlos said yesterday, the 4th graders are more mature. There are more girls that are interested, especially in Octavo, but unfortunately the boys haven’t realized they would impress more of them if they weren’t crawling around under the desks and making animal sounds.
Pisco life continues, relaxed and uneventful. I have continued meeting more of Tota’s friends, playing with the children and swimming in the river where the other two volunteers live. I have had three meetings this week, one in Paihuano which lasted ten minutes and required a 50 minute round trip bus ride, and two in Monte Grande at the Casa de la Cultura. Monte Grande is far enough to make walking annoying and close enough to be a pointlessly expensive bus ride. Starting next week I will make the trip often as I am helping/attending a weaving course that they provide for the girls in Monte Grande. Apparently Monte Grande of all the villages is most at risk for continuing the uneducated cycle of the last hundreds of years. Many parents never finished Basico and many students look to follow in their parents’ footsteps.
I am thrilled about the weaving course, they have six giant looms, I am there to provide English help, a different viewpoint, I am not really sure. Less thrilling is that the classes are on Fridays from 3 to 7!! Apparently so we don’t worry about the time, but I think four hours will make me worry more.
One final note for gardeners, mum, Tota brought home a thin seed shell pod thing, and told me to break it. Inside were three perfectly round black seeds with perfect white hearts that look as if they have been painted on the outside. A freak of nature called Amor en la Bolsa. I think. Anyway I was more interested in a plant then I have been for a while.
x
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
First Impressions
I have been in the Elqui Valley for a week. I have had two pisco sours, have wanted to smack four 2nd graders, climbed one mountain, spent 14+ hours on a bus, and am writing looking at three of 3000 mountains.
Pisco is the furthest of moderate sized towns in the valley. The closest normal sized town is Vicuna an hour away and the closest city is La Serena two hours away by bus. Pisco, Montegrande and Paihuano have the three schools that volunteers are sent to and there are also tiny towns that volunteers get sent to once a week or so. Luckily for me I live in Pisco and work in the Escuela something something Godoy which is in Pisco. One of the other volunteers works in Paihuano and has to leave at 7:15 and the other one works in the satellite villages and has to travel all day between schools.
Most of the schools have new English teachers thanks to the Fundacion which is funded by the Valley’s wealthy man. My teacher Carlos used to teach at a private school where parents paid about 40,000 pesos a month (60 dollars) quite expensive from Chilean standards. He says the biggest difference is materials, i.e. he used to have them and now he doesn’t. I think he is a very good teacher with a lot of patience.
My first day I only had to go for assembly where I was introduced to the students, teachers and parents by the principal as the “senorita whose name I can not pronounce.” My first meeting with him he told me I had the face of a 15-year old, which does not give me a lot of confidence in my authority.
Chileans have as much trouble with my name as USA citizens. I have learned to say I am from Estados Unidos instead of America as I was quickly told they were from America too. I normally spend the first five minutes of class trying to teach the pronunciation of Imogen. The closest most get is eemohen. Mostly they find Miss easier.
I like working in Pisco because it means I am recognizable, not just enough strangely pale face. I get summons of Miss or Tia all the time from students, or La inglese from parents.
After being here a week Tota went to the beach with her daughter and a friend came to stay. Now Tota is back I am meeting many more people. There is a nice group of slightly hippy mostly single mothers. Their children go the Jardin, the Waldorf school, and they are a very nice support group for each other. Many live in Baquedano, a street that leads up away from the town. The nicest looking hostel is also in Baquedano, the owner is friend with everyone and today we went and picked figs, and Maria Tota’s daughter regularly goes to pick grapes.
All in all, after the first overwhelming feeling I was living in a complete foreign and incompatible society I have adjusted and am very happy. The adjustment most likely started when I figured out how to have hot water in the shower.
x
Pisco is the furthest of moderate sized towns in the valley. The closest normal sized town is Vicuna an hour away and the closest city is La Serena two hours away by bus. Pisco, Montegrande and Paihuano have the three schools that volunteers are sent to and there are also tiny towns that volunteers get sent to once a week or so. Luckily for me I live in Pisco and work in the Escuela something something Godoy which is in Pisco. One of the other volunteers works in Paihuano and has to leave at 7:15 and the other one works in the satellite villages and has to travel all day between schools.
Most of the schools have new English teachers thanks to the Fundacion which is funded by the Valley’s wealthy man. My teacher Carlos used to teach at a private school where parents paid about 40,000 pesos a month (60 dollars) quite expensive from Chilean standards. He says the biggest difference is materials, i.e. he used to have them and now he doesn’t. I think he is a very good teacher with a lot of patience.
My first day I only had to go for assembly where I was introduced to the students, teachers and parents by the principal as the “senorita whose name I can not pronounce.” My first meeting with him he told me I had the face of a 15-year old, which does not give me a lot of confidence in my authority.
Chileans have as much trouble with my name as USA citizens. I have learned to say I am from Estados Unidos instead of America as I was quickly told they were from America too. I normally spend the first five minutes of class trying to teach the pronunciation of Imogen. The closest most get is eemohen. Mostly they find Miss easier.
I like working in Pisco because it means I am recognizable, not just enough strangely pale face. I get summons of Miss or Tia all the time from students, or La inglese from parents.
After being here a week Tota went to the beach with her daughter and a friend came to stay. Now Tota is back I am meeting many more people. There is a nice group of slightly hippy mostly single mothers. Their children go the Jardin, the Waldorf school, and they are a very nice support group for each other. Many live in Baquedano, a street that leads up away from the town. The nicest looking hostel is also in Baquedano, the owner is friend with everyone and today we went and picked figs, and Maria Tota’s daughter regularly goes to pick grapes.
All in all, after the first overwhelming feeling I was living in a complete foreign and incompatible society I have adjusted and am very happy. The adjustment most likely started when I figured out how to have hot water in the shower.
x
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