but this past weekend was a little crazy, so i had to share. this has less to do with me overall and more with a period of time. margaret and i worked around our work schedules, i came in to work early a few days to give tests to students and all that jazz just to take off this past friday... friday morning at 4:40 my alarm went off... out the door by 5:15 and we were headed to the del sol bus station to go to el salvador. it was the romero march. 27 years since the death of the monseñor and his memory is just as strong in the people. we crossed the border into honduras without a hitch except that the movie showing was "the holiday" but one of us was happy with that. as we crossed a nice little river margaret took a picture out the window. that would be ironic later. you see, that river was the one that separates honduras from el salvador so we had to stop to get our documents checked out... there was a problem with mine and i was taken to the office. it turns out that we were illegal, margaret too, but for whatever reason the border lady didn't notice hers right away. we had both passed the 90 days we had on our tourist visas and had yet to get our residency in nicaragua... all we had was our temporary residencies in nicaragua, which is not recognized nor valid for anything in the rest of central america. we were given two choices after being told there was nobody we could call to remedy the situation, not the embassy not the president, nobody. we could turn back to nicaragua from that town without any issues at all or we could pay the fine for passing our 90 days, 75 DOLLARS each, continue on until we reached mexico or belize paying whatever other fines, and return to central america to receive another 90 day stamp and we had to do all that in less than 5 days. we had a day and a half left on our trip before having to be back for work... so we stayed in el amatillo, the border town, on the honduras side. the lady that told us we couldn't enter el salvador was the same that offered to walk us to a hotel. her name was lucy. she explained that the two safe ones were 15 dollars more or less... a little expensive for us and when we asked about anything cheaper, lucy offered her room. a govt. provided room with a few beds in it--she stays there 8 days and some other people stay the next 8 and they switch off. we jumped on the opportunity... we spent the day eating honduran food, drinking chilean "frontera" wine down by the river and enjoying ourselves in a town where apparently not many americans ever get out to stay a while. we were like the circus as little kids stared with gaping mouths. that evening we sat on the bridge enjoying a rainbow, a sunset, a nice rain and then took lucy out for dinner. she told us all about honduras, including the politics and the word for cool... cheque, and we slept in her room. the next morning we caught a bus back to nicaragua to our disappointment and many others... but we will try to go back next year. another adventure will be in store. god bless.
james
3.27.2007
3.13.2007
dear friends and lovers,
a long overdue update, although i'm starting to have my doubts on how many people read this. yet, for those of you faithful to your high levels of curiosity, i'm back. the long time inbetween was only partially my fault. the other part was that the jump drive that i was using and had a blog update saved on was stolen at my school. so i will start more or less from there and give you the last few weeks more or less.
thursday afternoon a while ago. i had been writing a blog update tracking how i felt at about 12:30 each day after teaching my more difficult classes in order to share with you my feelings and perspectives. to summarize, more tiredness than anything usually. i sleep enough but teaching in the setting that i am in can be exhausting... i will address the small changes i am making currently later. anyway, thursday afternoon, i had some students sweeping and mopping my classroom, then some 6 students came into my room to look at what was written on a desk, which reminded me that i was going to find the student that wrote those things to have him wash it. i went to go find him, leaving the students alone in my room. i came back and a couple of girls were still there, and i through them all out to have my student scrub desks and soon noticed that my jump drive had disappeared. this was disappointing, not so much because i cared that it was gone so much as that i knew other people would care and that i have students willing to steal things. i told another teacher, julio, and he informed me that he had had his jump drive taken also. when i asked our director, don vincente, what we should do, he wanted to have a meeting with the various students on monday. when i asked why not friday he told me, "no school tommorow!" how nobody had managed to let me know this interesting tidbit escapes me, but it is not new. there are some "communication issues" with the padre fabreto staff. anyway, that was really good news, and i got friday off. the jump drive never turned up after talking with various students... none of them saw anything. i have since become convinced that the jump drive evolved to a higher state of intelligence and made a concious decision to leave. so i'm not mad, just bittersweet that it decided to seek out a better life for itself.
with my newfound 3 day weekend i had a splendid time. friday i visited josh in his school. he also teaches english and it was very nice to spend some time with him in his work. we all work very similar hours and thus don't get to see each other in action. it was really cool to watch him teach a lesson that i had taught before and to see the differences and be able to appreciate the things he did better or different. i spent the rest of the day reading under a star fruit tree and then watching batman begins. it was a good day to myself and refreshing. that saturday i walked to the laguna de apollo (apollo lake) with mary. the two of us had quite a day that started out with getting on a bus for grenada and having mary point out that the 20 something girls in front of us were cracking open some cans of beer. oh yes. 8:30 am. at that point i thought that we should drop whatever plans we had and just go wherever they were going... i firmly believe that if someone starts drinking at that hour its probably going to be fun to spend the day with them (as long as you aren't responsible for them). yet we ultimately got to grenada and walked off in a different direction, headed towards the cemetary. from the graveyard its about a 4 1/2 mile walk to the lake and mary and i began the trek. we went through a small community where people greeted us as we went. i got the feeling that not many gringos, some but not many, walk through the area. busses go right to all of the hotels, hostels, and resort places but thats all on one side of the lake, and we were going to the side that was mostly uninhabited. we passed many small houses, made of 2x4's thrown up together with women washing laundry in the yards and children running around. people went by us on bicycles (a dirt road) and with cows pulling carts that they rode on. a little over an hour later as the population thinned we approached the lip of the several thousand year old volcano, long inactive, and filled with blue blue water. it is apparently 250 meters deep (more or less) in the center because it is the old core of a volcano just filled with water. there are no fish so the water is clear. super clear. amazingly clear and gorgeous. mary and i jumped in as soon as got there. it drops off quickly. you can basically dive off the edge into the water because of the quick drop. this, however, makes it tiring to swim a lot for those of us that are weak swimmers (me). the solution? we made a raft. using branches we found and vines we tied them together and floated out into the lake. i then entered into the most relaxing, tranquil, centered moment i've had in a long time. laying just right my ears would immerse under the water and my face would stay above and it was like (this sounds wierd) a womb moment. just feeling safe and warm and wet and content. mary was laying about 2 feet from me on the other side of the raft and i imagine she was having an amazing moment also. we both remarked how perfect the place is. we saw no people for 4 hours. only cows and horses and birds and trees and water water water. the walk back was also nice and peaceful and as we got closer we hitched a ride with a man with 6 large pigs in the back of his truck... we stood on the back but not inside it. we rode back to managua feeling fully refreshed.
this past week of school started after that fantastic weekend and i was looking forward to a positive week. it went downhill. some classes are good. most are rough. i think the students just really don't like have hour and half long classes. that last 30 min. they start getting really antsy and don't want to stay there. those are the hardest 30 min. of my day, every day. i'm trying to get creative but its hard. my mom sent me a highschool classroom management book and i'm trying to slowly implement some of the recommendations... i've started a "you are wasting my time so i will waste your time" system. if they are consistently misbehaving or their cell phone rings or they show up late etc. they have to come back during recess to stay for a while in silence. i'm coupling this with a rewards system for students that behave well and get good grades. i'm trying to do this as sort of a rewards/punishment system. both of these things i hate as that i would rather the motivation come from within instead of the classic stick and carrot system. sadly however, some students don't want english classes their bad behavior coupled with mandatory english classes has been creating an environment where learning becomes near impossible for the handful that do want to learn english. i hope things get better. i just truly dislike myself in an authority position. i get impatient and this past friday i even got angry. my most difficult group of students, group D, i have every friday. they want to go home, its the weekend, they do not like being in my class. the normal stuff happened: students curse at each other, hit each other, yell, throw stuff... but this time it was happening at much higher rate. i felt myself falling apart. i was hitting that point where i just stood there, wondering. looking at them. eventually at 10 min. til the end of their class i said "that's it!" i put their homework on their desks and threw them out of class. i had to regroup before the next group of students. even so it was a hard next hour. i was beat. broken. i had to talk to their teacher and some other teachers. i was reassured by the fact that even the computer teacher has been having problems with the same students, the same group. all of the kids like computers, so if the students are misbehaving there, its bigger than just my class. this is nice to know that there are other teachers working on these things and not just me. the other teachers were also very supportive. today i had group D again, and their teacher came to the class. they behaved much better, but it still worries me that come friday... well, we'll see. pray for me. i think the real issue is that i'm teaching in a second chance school... so many of the students have dropped out before, been kicked out, or failed out. who knows how many have learning disabilities etc. etc. and i'm just thrown in. i have high hopes for this week though as i continue making adjustments to keep them interested and explain things slower.
my favorite times, though, are all of those spent with my community. community living is all i hoped for and more, and for this i love the weekend because its all community, uninterrupted by work :). this past weekend some fellow fabretto english teachers from other nicaraguan cities were in managua in a hotel because one had been sick for a while and needed blood work. they had some of us over to swim and hang out and it was lovely. there is nothing like swimming for free in someone else's hotel pool. and yesterday was sunday. a good day. i cleaned the house. i planned this weeks classes. i welcomed some slu undergrads (jen lay and jess trout) to nicaragua where they are visiting for their spring break while studying in el salvador. josh, mary, and matt got back from a rewarding trek up a volcano and they told us all about that adventure... (check their blogs later for updates on that) and currently the electricity is out while i type on josh's laptop. i am well. work is my biggest stress and leaves me feeling emptiest. community is my biggest blessing and leaves me feeling filled with spirit. so my days fluxuate. thankyou to all who have prayed and continue praying for me. i can't wait to hear about your own lives, struggles, growths. you are all blessed. seek peace.
james
2.21.2007
a good evening
dear friends and lovers,
teachers thoughout history have told of how there is absolutely nothing like seeing something click in your student's minds. while this is true, they don't often tell you that there is absolutly nothing like the moment after one of their most frustrating classes leaves and they get to relax for a moment. when my class of 15 to 20 year old's walks out, my whole body feels better. whew. maybe they refuse to learn for whatever reason, but i made it through another day. music. music has a healing power. it pummels one into submission. it exerts a power that drags you outside of yourself and into the realm of the unknowable. those scary places in the depths of one's self where truth blossoms. but normally i just hang on for dear life. and teach english. i've started teaching my level one and level two classes in the afternoon. i can't tell you how enjoyable level two classes were for me. i was able to start and finish the class in almost all english... this is something that i was told was necessary, but in reality, it is just exhausting to try and get people to figure out what i am talking about when sometimes i can just say the word in spanish, and even more exhausting to give the homework in spanish and have them still not understand me... so having a class of students with experience is good. i'm sure they didn't understand everything they said, but they struggled along and it seemed good. i guess we'll see over time. every day i squish onto a yellow school bus with 150 students and teachers. as one of my coworkers commented, every day riding the bus is an adventure. it is true. squished up against students aged 5 to 20. i commented to my co-worker julio today that in the united states it is illegal to have more than maybe 60 or 80 students on a bus. we double that easily though. now this may sound dangerous, and it is, but many modern conveniences are dangerous, even more so when used incorrectly, and that is something we've been doing for a while, sacrificing safety for convenience... i'm not talking about the positive kind of safety sacrificing where one is giving up their safety for the dignity of another human being, i'm thinking more like the giving up the relative safety of walking for a car, because it is faster and takes us further has air conditioning and maybe even a cd player. but its very much an immediate gratification thing. and if we take the short view, say the life span of a human person, average 75 years, instead of taking the longer view... the human persons that will come after us, the human beings that gave us life, and all the humans that struggle for life right now, all around us and around the world, simple things like driving a car are very selfish. i'm not saying global warming is for sure caused by cars, but lets be honest, the exhaust products created by burning fossil fuels is bad for human beings. and whether or not it is a direct link to higher asthma rates, or higher cases of lung cancer, or any other maladies, the fact that it is not good in the long run, but only convenient in the short run, is what makes me so offended by its very existence. just that i am a part of a species that creates things (guns, nukes, planes, cars etc.) that are not respecting the planet or life handed to us and not at all trying to cultivate the lives we are leaving for future people, makes me feel ill that we are so concerned with ourselves, and living the good life, a house on the hill in the burbs, kids in the best schools, and a great looking car. and then some people that live in this way have the audacity to call themselves "liberals" striving for change and betterment of the human situation. at least those whose motto is "get yours now" are honest to their lifestyle. and every day i sidle my way off of that bus of now only 80 or so people to catch a taxi to catch another bus to come home and turn on my gas oven and my lights, take a shower with water pressure and type on this here computer. so what? jenny lewis, the lead singer for the band rilo kiley and recent solo artist, did an album with the watson twins, a small folk duo, recently. on this little gem she puts this line out there, "for the evangelists, the communists, and the lefts and the rights, and the hypocrites the jesuits, and the blacks and the whites." i intentionlly left out a comma in there. i feel as if my life exists in uncertainty. am i a hypocrite? yep. a jesuit? part of the group ideal? yep. so what do we do with our hypocricy? do we live in it? let ourselves experience it? see where it moves us? ignore it? keep doing what we're doing and say for right now its the most we can do? acknowledge that hypocrisy is a sign that we are still connected with our past reality and still striving towards our potential existence? maybe some maybe all maybe none. teaching is a gift that some people are given by a society that (i think maybe) overvalues a certain type of education... an education that rather than empowering and opening, challenging and affirming, we have an education that is more about getting people in line and being able to perform certain pre-decided actions... is math important? of course. is business a good thing? how could it not be? is there value in poetry? only if it can be sold. i'm not sure if i have the gift of teaching or valuing education in the same way. its been a while since i wrote on here, and for that i am sorry. it has been entirely due to business. not just business in the sense that i'm working all the time and have stuff to do (although it has been that some) but also, during my free time i just don't feel like sitting down and typing a bunch. i would rather, honestly, be "busy" hanging out with my housemates, playing guitar or whatever else. so for that, i'm sorry that this form of communication is low on my priorities... but what do you expect from someone who got rid of his cell phone because it took him away from those around him and supported superficial forms of connection. we took a small retreat this past weekend also. it was really good. the beach, the waves, the running, the pain and punishment in the sand (that's for you alex). we all had a good hour or so to talk about our lives, the struggles and blessings that have in some bizarre way brought us all to the same place on the same beach under the same amazing blanket of stars (with several shooting stars!). also i've been trying to write a letter to my friend ellie craft lately, which has taken longer than expected, but i will always try to respond to anything i get (except facebook messages and forwards) for all of you i love you, and i think of you often, even if i have trouble letting you know. i appreciate all the prayers. good evening.
james
teachers thoughout history have told of how there is absolutely nothing like seeing something click in your student's minds. while this is true, they don't often tell you that there is absolutly nothing like the moment after one of their most frustrating classes leaves and they get to relax for a moment. when my class of 15 to 20 year old's walks out, my whole body feels better. whew. maybe they refuse to learn for whatever reason, but i made it through another day. music. music has a healing power. it pummels one into submission. it exerts a power that drags you outside of yourself and into the realm of the unknowable. those scary places in the depths of one's self where truth blossoms. but normally i just hang on for dear life. and teach english. i've started teaching my level one and level two classes in the afternoon. i can't tell you how enjoyable level two classes were for me. i was able to start and finish the class in almost all english... this is something that i was told was necessary, but in reality, it is just exhausting to try and get people to figure out what i am talking about when sometimes i can just say the word in spanish, and even more exhausting to give the homework in spanish and have them still not understand me... so having a class of students with experience is good. i'm sure they didn't understand everything they said, but they struggled along and it seemed good. i guess we'll see over time. every day i squish onto a yellow school bus with 150 students and teachers. as one of my coworkers commented, every day riding the bus is an adventure. it is true. squished up against students aged 5 to 20. i commented to my co-worker julio today that in the united states it is illegal to have more than maybe 60 or 80 students on a bus. we double that easily though. now this may sound dangerous, and it is, but many modern conveniences are dangerous, even more so when used incorrectly, and that is something we've been doing for a while, sacrificing safety for convenience... i'm not talking about the positive kind of safety sacrificing where one is giving up their safety for the dignity of another human being, i'm thinking more like the giving up the relative safety of walking for a car, because it is faster and takes us further has air conditioning and maybe even a cd player. but its very much an immediate gratification thing. and if we take the short view, say the life span of a human person, average 75 years, instead of taking the longer view... the human persons that will come after us, the human beings that gave us life, and all the humans that struggle for life right now, all around us and around the world, simple things like driving a car are very selfish. i'm not saying global warming is for sure caused by cars, but lets be honest, the exhaust products created by burning fossil fuels is bad for human beings. and whether or not it is a direct link to higher asthma rates, or higher cases of lung cancer, or any other maladies, the fact that it is not good in the long run, but only convenient in the short run, is what makes me so offended by its very existence. just that i am a part of a species that creates things (guns, nukes, planes, cars etc.) that are not respecting the planet or life handed to us and not at all trying to cultivate the lives we are leaving for future people, makes me feel ill that we are so concerned with ourselves, and living the good life, a house on the hill in the burbs, kids in the best schools, and a great looking car. and then some people that live in this way have the audacity to call themselves "liberals" striving for change and betterment of the human situation. at least those whose motto is "get yours now" are honest to their lifestyle. and every day i sidle my way off of that bus of now only 80 or so people to catch a taxi to catch another bus to come home and turn on my gas oven and my lights, take a shower with water pressure and type on this here computer. so what? jenny lewis, the lead singer for the band rilo kiley and recent solo artist, did an album with the watson twins, a small folk duo, recently. on this little gem she puts this line out there, "for the evangelists, the communists, and the lefts and the rights, and the hypocrites the jesuits, and the blacks and the whites." i intentionlly left out a comma in there. i feel as if my life exists in uncertainty. am i a hypocrite? yep. a jesuit? part of the group ideal? yep. so what do we do with our hypocricy? do we live in it? let ourselves experience it? see where it moves us? ignore it? keep doing what we're doing and say for right now its the most we can do? acknowledge that hypocrisy is a sign that we are still connected with our past reality and still striving towards our potential existence? maybe some maybe all maybe none. teaching is a gift that some people are given by a society that (i think maybe) overvalues a certain type of education... an education that rather than empowering and opening, challenging and affirming, we have an education that is more about getting people in line and being able to perform certain pre-decided actions... is math important? of course. is business a good thing? how could it not be? is there value in poetry? only if it can be sold. i'm not sure if i have the gift of teaching or valuing education in the same way. its been a while since i wrote on here, and for that i am sorry. it has been entirely due to business. not just business in the sense that i'm working all the time and have stuff to do (although it has been that some) but also, during my free time i just don't feel like sitting down and typing a bunch. i would rather, honestly, be "busy" hanging out with my housemates, playing guitar or whatever else. so for that, i'm sorry that this form of communication is low on my priorities... but what do you expect from someone who got rid of his cell phone because it took him away from those around him and supported superficial forms of connection. we took a small retreat this past weekend also. it was really good. the beach, the waves, the running, the pain and punishment in the sand (that's for you alex). we all had a good hour or so to talk about our lives, the struggles and blessings that have in some bizarre way brought us all to the same place on the same beach under the same amazing blanket of stars (with several shooting stars!). also i've been trying to write a letter to my friend ellie craft lately, which has taken longer than expected, but i will always try to respond to anything i get (except facebook messages and forwards) for all of you i love you, and i think of you often, even if i have trouble letting you know. i appreciate all the prayers. good evening.
james
2.06.2007
2nd month
Last night I celebrated, along with Mary, Margaret, and Josh, our 2 months here. We didn’t do much—squished the four of us into one bed and talked, but it was nice. Then this morning I woke up noticing that my feet hurt a little… I know the shoes I have don’t fit the best, but whatever. Then my belt was broken and it is only day 5 of teaching for me, and I was already like, “really?” so I’m not sure how much it is the teaching or the being here 2 months and starting to feel the time. I’m starting to notice the daily drudge if you will. I think this is maybe what they call the beginning of culture shock. Who knows? It’s that impatience with myself and the whole Spanish language that I’m starting to feel sometimes—like I just want to speak and be understood and be able to understand. Little clues like that. So even if I recognize it, what then? My first instinct was that I would go read about it. As if somehow knowledge about the topic will help me spiritually and emotionally. But that is a solution I somehow want to make often. So, do I just sit with the feelings of discomfort, be aware of them, and allow them to develop. I mean, its supposed to be a process that anyone entering another culture for a significant amount of time goes through. Pues, vamos a ver. I’m just trying to be aware that these feelings can skew my perspective on all kinds of things…
And then sometimes teaching can make it all better. It can be so tiring, but when the students are really really paying attention, and there are the few that come up after class to get a little more help and they put so much of themselves into it—its just so good. I can see how teaching can become addictive. As tiring as it is, it is energizing and forces me to be creative on my feet and aware of how the students are doing… should I slow down and take more time on this, are they getting it, do I realize while doing something that its totally pointless and I should focus on something else? Usually I’m holding my students until 2 or 3 minutes after and some stay a little more… which is a good thing.
Mary asked last night what things about ourselves we are hoping to change and what things we really want to stay the same. Not that I think that any of that is really in my control, but it is a good question to get me thinking. Are there things about myself that I want to hang on to? (the answer is yes) are there things that I want to change? (the answer is probably yes, but that means admitting that I have things to change J)… oddly enough, right now the second question is actually a little easier… I want to be more in touch with things that I already know but don’t necessarily live. How can I make that make sense. For example, I know I should be still and silent and delve into the silence of God more, but that doesn’t mean that I do it. Or being at peace with that which is out of my control. I have this bizarre idea that everything can be solved somehow if only all of the pieces of the puzzle are put together, and maybe I’m right and maybe I’m wrong, but I’ll never have all the pieces nor be able to put them together. I want to be able to listen better… I guess all of these things are live goals and lessons, but what better time to start and challenge myself than where I am now? I lack a certain internal calmness that I’ve had before… I have images of myself and I’m aware that at that time I was more tranquil… that has gone somewhere, and so I’m searching for it still. Now what do I want to hold onto. Maybe because I look at life as something in near constant flux or maybe because I believe that holding onto anything too tightly is foolish, I hope nothing is the same. Although that is foolish and impossible also because I have very little control over what changes or doesn’t change… in a way. If I finish my two years of volunteering and certain things are still the same, all the better, I guess, that I was doing okay before getting to where I am now. I guess I’m more worried that I’ll clam up to everything, or that I’ll think that I’ve already got the world figured out, and that that will keep me from changing at all. And the thought of being that stubbornly insistent scares me, because I know it is within me also.
This weekend I think some of us are going to get out of Managua. There is a way in which a large dirty city starts dragging on you. Or maybe there are other things dragging on us and we are trying to escape from that also. (as an aside, I have 6 kids standing around me watching me type, which is entertaining) I leave you all with love and thanks for your love and friendship over the years. I hope you are well.
james
And then sometimes teaching can make it all better. It can be so tiring, but when the students are really really paying attention, and there are the few that come up after class to get a little more help and they put so much of themselves into it—its just so good. I can see how teaching can become addictive. As tiring as it is, it is energizing and forces me to be creative on my feet and aware of how the students are doing… should I slow down and take more time on this, are they getting it, do I realize while doing something that its totally pointless and I should focus on something else? Usually I’m holding my students until 2 or 3 minutes after and some stay a little more… which is a good thing.
Mary asked last night what things about ourselves we are hoping to change and what things we really want to stay the same. Not that I think that any of that is really in my control, but it is a good question to get me thinking. Are there things about myself that I want to hang on to? (the answer is yes) are there things that I want to change? (the answer is probably yes, but that means admitting that I have things to change J)… oddly enough, right now the second question is actually a little easier… I want to be more in touch with things that I already know but don’t necessarily live. How can I make that make sense. For example, I know I should be still and silent and delve into the silence of God more, but that doesn’t mean that I do it. Or being at peace with that which is out of my control. I have this bizarre idea that everything can be solved somehow if only all of the pieces of the puzzle are put together, and maybe I’m right and maybe I’m wrong, but I’ll never have all the pieces nor be able to put them together. I want to be able to listen better… I guess all of these things are live goals and lessons, but what better time to start and challenge myself than where I am now? I lack a certain internal calmness that I’ve had before… I have images of myself and I’m aware that at that time I was more tranquil… that has gone somewhere, and so I’m searching for it still. Now what do I want to hold onto. Maybe because I look at life as something in near constant flux or maybe because I believe that holding onto anything too tightly is foolish, I hope nothing is the same. Although that is foolish and impossible also because I have very little control over what changes or doesn’t change… in a way. If I finish my two years of volunteering and certain things are still the same, all the better, I guess, that I was doing okay before getting to where I am now. I guess I’m more worried that I’ll clam up to everything, or that I’ll think that I’ve already got the world figured out, and that that will keep me from changing at all. And the thought of being that stubbornly insistent scares me, because I know it is within me also.
This weekend I think some of us are going to get out of Managua. There is a way in which a large dirty city starts dragging on you. Or maybe there are other things dragging on us and we are trying to escape from that also. (as an aside, I have 6 kids standing around me watching me type, which is entertaining) I leave you all with love and thanks for your love and friendship over the years. I hope you are well.
james
2.01.2007
work begins
Jan. 31st 2007
I sit at the apple computer in my classroom, 30 minutes before the first class I’ll be teaching. Nervous is a good word to describe how I’m feeling right now, but it doesn’t describe everything. I am also a little sad and a little confused. You see, this morning I had to tell the teachers at San Isidro public grade school that I wouldn’t be teaching there this year. That was after spending a week with them; helping clean the classrooms, prepare classes, and just getting to know them in general. They are amazingly fun women and men with crucial insights into the San Isidro community and its relationship with the Fabretto organization. I will still be seeing them, probably quite often, but it is simply not the same. At the end of the movie Shawshank Redemption, after the character Red is released from prison, he goes through various rationalizations for his feelings of discontentment, and finally settles on this one, “I guess I just miss my friend.” That is sort of how I feel. I just met these other teachers, and within a 48-hour period, our relationship was drastically changed. For Mike, the volunteer before me here, he spent much time with the San Isidro teachers, but for me, the program is changing and the schools are changing and I have to change with them…
It all started with Don Vincente at the bus stop. I get off and he is waiting for a taxi. He casually mentions that tomorrow in the morning I have a meeting. This gets me wondering why nobody had told me before (not a big deal) but also would he have told me if he hadn’t happened to be at the bus stop that day? Who knows? That afternoon I was in the Fabretto school and I was given the new Fabretto schedule by one of the office workers that had apparently been put together by the new SAT (tutorial style education) teachers this past Friday. See, Fabretto is going through some changes. Whereas last year Fabretto was just an after school program where Mike taught English, this year they are implementing a program that will allow people to get what in the US would be like a GED—so the equivalent of a high school education. They brought in the SAT teachers, changed the whole program and then a few days later I see the schedule. They had me teaching at 7am and at 11:30… it takes just over an hour every day for me to get to work, if the busses are running on time, so it was really unfeasible, closer to impossible, for me to come at 7 without waking up around 4:45 every day or so. But also, I realized, that if I were to change the times when I was working here, the classes would conflict with the classes that I was under the impression I would be teaching at the public grade school. When I asked the Fabretto English director about this, I was informed that I was contracted to Fabretto and she thought she had me all day. This is, in fact, true, but I was growing attached to the little public school, so I felt trapped. And when I told the public school director, Soledad, that I didn’t think I could teach there any more, she told me I had to put my foot down and tell them what I wanted to do… which I don’t think was really the best advice, but oh well. I thought for a while that I could work it out where I would teach at the grade school, 4 classes a week earlier in the morning and then come to Fabretto for my 10am class. But after talking my community and to the office, it became apparent that I would be trying to do too much, especially considering that I’m supposed to be teaching afternoon classes until 4 also… so, my schedule is basically worked out now, I just have to decide when to do the afternoon classes and for how long, but it has just been interesting navigating the Nicaraguan bureaucrazy (intentional) and losing the opportunity to teach the 5th and 6th graders… of which there are 42 fifth graders and 32 sixth graders (and 32 was referred to as very few, apparently once there was a 1st grade class with 63 or so). I remember Mike telling me that he hoped I had the opportunity to teach there in order to see the drastic difference between the public and private, but also because the teachers are so gang-busters. Pues, no más. So I will be teaching 5 different classes of SAT students twice a week, hardly enough to learn very much English, but oh well, and then the afternoon students, which I have yet to set up their class times, or how much how often I will do it……..
2 hours later, I have taught my first class! It went, well, well, considering that it was their first first first ever English class. I took my teaching teacher’s advice and just started with all English… jumped right into it, no holds barred. And it went okay. I could see that 2 of the students had actually had a little English, as one proceeded to call me over and count from 10 to 20… good for you kid, but I’m trying to teach us how to speak the language, not just repeat things we memorize… and I think that is the hardest part. They are used to their other classes where they take notes and memorize things, but I’m not doing that, I’m trying to get them to listen and repeat another language, read and write another language… so it’s a bit more tricky… but I think they understand “what is your name,” “my name is,” “what is his/her name,” “his/her name is,” and “where are you from,” “I am from” but I’m not really sure… although I think they definitely got the my name is part. I worked on that longer. It was fun, the kids are responsive. One little girl asked me how to say “tus ojos son bonitos” in English, and I told her that we are working on “my name is right now.” Maybe someday kid, but not in my class. It will take some time before I can see how well the students are going to behave on a regular basis… but they were well behaved today, I think the subject matter has them pretty intimidated so that they are trying to listen as much as possible. Oh well. We’ll see.
Community living this past week has been very good for me. I really feel us coming together in unexpected ways. I’m impressed especially by matt and andriana’s commitment to the new community; for whatever reason I thought they would still have more lingering attachments to the old community and have trouble reinvesting themselves. But nope. And, as adri said, we 4 bring in new energy and excitement for every little thing. So one funny little story for you all before this hits 2 pages long…
The other night Margie and I got into a discussion on whether or not the JVI handbook included, referenced, or even implied chastity as the recommendation for our living status. I thought it did, Margie insisted otherwise. So we kinda forgot about it, but last night I brought it back up and we broke out the handbook. Now there has been a running joke about volunteers never reading the handbook but always claiming to be, along with the office always reading it, even on their Friday nights. So imagine our surprise, as we discuss what it means when it says resistance and tolerance when the phone rings, and lo and behold, it is Kristen calling from the office. I’m not sure if she believed us when we said we were just reading and discussing the handbook, or if she wanted to believe us when she found out that the section of interest was on dating relationships and that myself and a community mate were discussing whether or not chastity is expected of us. But oh well. Kri took it well, and probably had a good laugh about it. I hope to hear from you soon. Drop me a line, leave a comment, whatever you like. Delve into yourself and you will discover that the kingdom of god is within you. Find it, follow it.
james
I sit at the apple computer in my classroom, 30 minutes before the first class I’ll be teaching. Nervous is a good word to describe how I’m feeling right now, but it doesn’t describe everything. I am also a little sad and a little confused. You see, this morning I had to tell the teachers at San Isidro public grade school that I wouldn’t be teaching there this year. That was after spending a week with them; helping clean the classrooms, prepare classes, and just getting to know them in general. They are amazingly fun women and men with crucial insights into the San Isidro community and its relationship with the Fabretto organization. I will still be seeing them, probably quite often, but it is simply not the same. At the end of the movie Shawshank Redemption, after the character Red is released from prison, he goes through various rationalizations for his feelings of discontentment, and finally settles on this one, “I guess I just miss my friend.” That is sort of how I feel. I just met these other teachers, and within a 48-hour period, our relationship was drastically changed. For Mike, the volunteer before me here, he spent much time with the San Isidro teachers, but for me, the program is changing and the schools are changing and I have to change with them…
It all started with Don Vincente at the bus stop. I get off and he is waiting for a taxi. He casually mentions that tomorrow in the morning I have a meeting. This gets me wondering why nobody had told me before (not a big deal) but also would he have told me if he hadn’t happened to be at the bus stop that day? Who knows? That afternoon I was in the Fabretto school and I was given the new Fabretto schedule by one of the office workers that had apparently been put together by the new SAT (tutorial style education) teachers this past Friday. See, Fabretto is going through some changes. Whereas last year Fabretto was just an after school program where Mike taught English, this year they are implementing a program that will allow people to get what in the US would be like a GED—so the equivalent of a high school education. They brought in the SAT teachers, changed the whole program and then a few days later I see the schedule. They had me teaching at 7am and at 11:30… it takes just over an hour every day for me to get to work, if the busses are running on time, so it was really unfeasible, closer to impossible, for me to come at 7 without waking up around 4:45 every day or so. But also, I realized, that if I were to change the times when I was working here, the classes would conflict with the classes that I was under the impression I would be teaching at the public grade school. When I asked the Fabretto English director about this, I was informed that I was contracted to Fabretto and she thought she had me all day. This is, in fact, true, but I was growing attached to the little public school, so I felt trapped. And when I told the public school director, Soledad, that I didn’t think I could teach there any more, she told me I had to put my foot down and tell them what I wanted to do… which I don’t think was really the best advice, but oh well. I thought for a while that I could work it out where I would teach at the grade school, 4 classes a week earlier in the morning and then come to Fabretto for my 10am class. But after talking my community and to the office, it became apparent that I would be trying to do too much, especially considering that I’m supposed to be teaching afternoon classes until 4 also… so, my schedule is basically worked out now, I just have to decide when to do the afternoon classes and for how long, but it has just been interesting navigating the Nicaraguan bureaucrazy (intentional) and losing the opportunity to teach the 5th and 6th graders… of which there are 42 fifth graders and 32 sixth graders (and 32 was referred to as very few, apparently once there was a 1st grade class with 63 or so). I remember Mike telling me that he hoped I had the opportunity to teach there in order to see the drastic difference between the public and private, but also because the teachers are so gang-busters. Pues, no más. So I will be teaching 5 different classes of SAT students twice a week, hardly enough to learn very much English, but oh well, and then the afternoon students, which I have yet to set up their class times, or how much how often I will do it……..
2 hours later, I have taught my first class! It went, well, well, considering that it was their first first first ever English class. I took my teaching teacher’s advice and just started with all English… jumped right into it, no holds barred. And it went okay. I could see that 2 of the students had actually had a little English, as one proceeded to call me over and count from 10 to 20… good for you kid, but I’m trying to teach us how to speak the language, not just repeat things we memorize… and I think that is the hardest part. They are used to their other classes where they take notes and memorize things, but I’m not doing that, I’m trying to get them to listen and repeat another language, read and write another language… so it’s a bit more tricky… but I think they understand “what is your name,” “my name is,” “what is his/her name,” “his/her name is,” and “where are you from,” “I am from” but I’m not really sure… although I think they definitely got the my name is part. I worked on that longer. It was fun, the kids are responsive. One little girl asked me how to say “tus ojos son bonitos” in English, and I told her that we are working on “my name is right now.” Maybe someday kid, but not in my class. It will take some time before I can see how well the students are going to behave on a regular basis… but they were well behaved today, I think the subject matter has them pretty intimidated so that they are trying to listen as much as possible. Oh well. We’ll see.
Community living this past week has been very good for me. I really feel us coming together in unexpected ways. I’m impressed especially by matt and andriana’s commitment to the new community; for whatever reason I thought they would still have more lingering attachments to the old community and have trouble reinvesting themselves. But nope. And, as adri said, we 4 bring in new energy and excitement for every little thing. So one funny little story for you all before this hits 2 pages long…
The other night Margie and I got into a discussion on whether or not the JVI handbook included, referenced, or even implied chastity as the recommendation for our living status. I thought it did, Margie insisted otherwise. So we kinda forgot about it, but last night I brought it back up and we broke out the handbook. Now there has been a running joke about volunteers never reading the handbook but always claiming to be, along with the office always reading it, even on their Friday nights. So imagine our surprise, as we discuss what it means when it says resistance and tolerance when the phone rings, and lo and behold, it is Kristen calling from the office. I’m not sure if she believed us when we said we were just reading and discussing the handbook, or if she wanted to believe us when she found out that the section of interest was on dating relationships and that myself and a community mate were discussing whether or not chastity is expected of us. But oh well. Kri took it well, and probably had a good laugh about it. I hope to hear from you soon. Drop me a line, leave a comment, whatever you like. Delve into yourself and you will discover that the kingdom of god is within you. Find it, follow it.
james
1.21.2007
a bit about babies
dear friends and lovers.
saturday. a day of chores. for people who get high off of feeling accomplished, it is a good day, and for the rest of us... well, clean floors are nice. i've been sitting around this afternoon playing a little guitar. it tends to put me in a reflective mode... i play a song and i'm transported back to the time period when i wrote it... what i was thinking, where i was, how i was feeling (and whether or not i was even aware of those feelings at the time). music has a mysterious power like that. when i was graduating high school, i was obsessed with the band Third Eye Blind (not a secret) and in love with my friend erin (sort of a secret) and i remember asking her one day if she thought that lead singers in bands that do national tours are still transported back to where their consciousness was when they wrote a song, even if they are playing it for the 300th time. she wasn't sure. for a while i haven't been sure either, because the few times that i have gotten up and played in front of people, sometimes i am transported and sometimes i'm so damn nervous that i'll mess up the song its like i'm feeling my way through the song, remembering what i wrote mere seconds before i have to say it. i still don't have an answer to my question, except that for me, on lazy saturdays, i am still taken back to different times and places.
wednesday i was feeling a little sad. the day started out great with our 3 year old neighbor calling me out by name, "Jaime!" but later, when we are driving on my way to my teaching class, we pass by a building with the words "Agro-Tech" written on the front. Those two words sent my mind spiraling out of control. i started thinking about monsanto and how they create seeds for plants that don't produce usable seeds, and in this way farmers have to buy new crops of seeds every year and it keeps rural farmers in a vicious cycle. and then i started thinking about how we use and misuse so many plants anyway and how destructive we are to the soil and the earth in general... and it was all getting out of control on how hopeless it can seem to reverse some of the patterns of domination and then i saw a pregnant woman crossing the street. full of life, probably hope. and a little later that day, as we were leaving our class to go eat in the hotel of our teacher who wanted to have a little cake and ice cream to celebrate us finishing the class and also likes to eat very classy meals, we drive by this area where people stand in the streets selling things--from cell phone covers to peanuts to papayas. and this little girl walked right up to our window, she couldn't have been more than 5 years old, holding this papaya half the size of her body the way you would see a little girl holding her favorite doll... barefoot, rags for clothes, ratty hair... and she's trying to sell this large piece of fruit to us. and i just looked her right in the eyes. it was like looking into the most apparently innocent mirror that just happened to be reflecting the horrors of the west; or of capitalism; or of the darkest corners of my soul. either way i saw my own poverty clearly. the light turned green. we drove on.
josh and i did some exploring and climbed up to look at our roof. we have this cool little air vent thing in the middle of the house. wooden beams crisscross the area and we discussed carving all the names of JV's that had lived in the house from 04' to now. we'll see if that ever comes to fruition. we looked through some of the folders that are around but have never been shown to us and discovered suggestions for spirituality nights, old community member's folders, and the illusive map of the managua busses. it is one of the most amazing things, if you have ever used a bus in managua, its kinda like a floo powder (harry potter) in that if you don't take much caution, you won't end up where you're going, or at least not in one piece... but with a map, the possibilities are endless.
another thing i found was a modern day parable. i'll have to paraphrase it here for you... a young man was once standing by the edge of a river, when to his horror a baby came floating down the river. he of course jumped in and saved the baby and quickly alerted members of the town. soon after two babies came floating down the river, crying, and he jumped in and saved them too. other members of the town began to get worried, and formed a small committee. 4 babies, 10 babies... floating down the river... soon people were diving in and out on a very consistent basis. they were organized and they were saving almost all of the babies. but then there was 30 40 50 and they were still saving most of the babies, but often there was too many. some would float by to their obvious peril. a woman, one of the town members, shouted for the attention of the others and said, 'What if we form a committee to go upstream and see who is dumping all of these babies in the river?' 'no, we'll lose too many babies, we can't afford to lose any committed people' so they went on as they had, saving many, but losing some... who then had greater concern for the babies? those looking to prevent them from being thrown in or those looking to keep diving in and pulling some out?
take it for what you will, but sometimes i feel like so many of us struggle to pull out babies and never look deep to see if we are really a participant in throwing them in. maybe this is all getting confusing, and it is definately getting way too long. but before i wrap it up, i've got two short things to share. the other day as i rounded a corner on my way home a woman about 20 yards from me began yelling at me as if she recognized me and was Pissed at me. she started crossing the street (very slowly) so i walked a little faster. mental illnesses pretty much get left to their own here... although maybe she was a shaman and saw an evil spirit within me. yesterday (friday) on the way home from visiting the school where i'll be teaching, a little girl, about 4, was sitting on her mother's lap, and the little girl smiled at me, so i smiled back, and then she got my attention about 5 minutes later. there was a note sitting on the bus seat next to me that read "hi, do you want to be my friend? call me at (phone #) nadir martinez" ... it was tempting since i don't have a lot of 4 year old friends, but i wrote her a note back that said "hola nadir, sorry but i don't have a telephone, but i imagine that you would be a very good friend, my name is jaime, nice to meet you."
i feel like this entry is incomplete, because its all about experiences and not relationships (which i feel are much more important) but oh well. i'll write about those some other day. i love you all. spend a moment in solitude today.
james
saturday. a day of chores. for people who get high off of feeling accomplished, it is a good day, and for the rest of us... well, clean floors are nice. i've been sitting around this afternoon playing a little guitar. it tends to put me in a reflective mode... i play a song and i'm transported back to the time period when i wrote it... what i was thinking, where i was, how i was feeling (and whether or not i was even aware of those feelings at the time). music has a mysterious power like that. when i was graduating high school, i was obsessed with the band Third Eye Blind (not a secret) and in love with my friend erin (sort of a secret) and i remember asking her one day if she thought that lead singers in bands that do national tours are still transported back to where their consciousness was when they wrote a song, even if they are playing it for the 300th time. she wasn't sure. for a while i haven't been sure either, because the few times that i have gotten up and played in front of people, sometimes i am transported and sometimes i'm so damn nervous that i'll mess up the song its like i'm feeling my way through the song, remembering what i wrote mere seconds before i have to say it. i still don't have an answer to my question, except that for me, on lazy saturdays, i am still taken back to different times and places.
wednesday i was feeling a little sad. the day started out great with our 3 year old neighbor calling me out by name, "Jaime!" but later, when we are driving on my way to my teaching class, we pass by a building with the words "Agro-Tech" written on the front. Those two words sent my mind spiraling out of control. i started thinking about monsanto and how they create seeds for plants that don't produce usable seeds, and in this way farmers have to buy new crops of seeds every year and it keeps rural farmers in a vicious cycle. and then i started thinking about how we use and misuse so many plants anyway and how destructive we are to the soil and the earth in general... and it was all getting out of control on how hopeless it can seem to reverse some of the patterns of domination and then i saw a pregnant woman crossing the street. full of life, probably hope. and a little later that day, as we were leaving our class to go eat in the hotel of our teacher who wanted to have a little cake and ice cream to celebrate us finishing the class and also likes to eat very classy meals, we drive by this area where people stand in the streets selling things--from cell phone covers to peanuts to papayas. and this little girl walked right up to our window, she couldn't have been more than 5 years old, holding this papaya half the size of her body the way you would see a little girl holding her favorite doll... barefoot, rags for clothes, ratty hair... and she's trying to sell this large piece of fruit to us. and i just looked her right in the eyes. it was like looking into the most apparently innocent mirror that just happened to be reflecting the horrors of the west; or of capitalism; or of the darkest corners of my soul. either way i saw my own poverty clearly. the light turned green. we drove on.
josh and i did some exploring and climbed up to look at our roof. we have this cool little air vent thing in the middle of the house. wooden beams crisscross the area and we discussed carving all the names of JV's that had lived in the house from 04' to now. we'll see if that ever comes to fruition. we looked through some of the folders that are around but have never been shown to us and discovered suggestions for spirituality nights, old community member's folders, and the illusive map of the managua busses. it is one of the most amazing things, if you have ever used a bus in managua, its kinda like a floo powder (harry potter) in that if you don't take much caution, you won't end up where you're going, or at least not in one piece... but with a map, the possibilities are endless.
another thing i found was a modern day parable. i'll have to paraphrase it here for you... a young man was once standing by the edge of a river, when to his horror a baby came floating down the river. he of course jumped in and saved the baby and quickly alerted members of the town. soon after two babies came floating down the river, crying, and he jumped in and saved them too. other members of the town began to get worried, and formed a small committee. 4 babies, 10 babies... floating down the river... soon people were diving in and out on a very consistent basis. they were organized and they were saving almost all of the babies. but then there was 30 40 50 and they were still saving most of the babies, but often there was too many. some would float by to their obvious peril. a woman, one of the town members, shouted for the attention of the others and said, 'What if we form a committee to go upstream and see who is dumping all of these babies in the river?' 'no, we'll lose too many babies, we can't afford to lose any committed people' so they went on as they had, saving many, but losing some... who then had greater concern for the babies? those looking to prevent them from being thrown in or those looking to keep diving in and pulling some out?
take it for what you will, but sometimes i feel like so many of us struggle to pull out babies and never look deep to see if we are really a participant in throwing them in. maybe this is all getting confusing, and it is definately getting way too long. but before i wrap it up, i've got two short things to share. the other day as i rounded a corner on my way home a woman about 20 yards from me began yelling at me as if she recognized me and was Pissed at me. she started crossing the street (very slowly) so i walked a little faster. mental illnesses pretty much get left to their own here... although maybe she was a shaman and saw an evil spirit within me. yesterday (friday) on the way home from visiting the school where i'll be teaching, a little girl, about 4, was sitting on her mother's lap, and the little girl smiled at me, so i smiled back, and then she got my attention about 5 minutes later. there was a note sitting on the bus seat next to me that read "hi, do you want to be my friend? call me at (phone #) nadir martinez" ... it was tempting since i don't have a lot of 4 year old friends, but i wrote her a note back that said "hola nadir, sorry but i don't have a telephone, but i imagine that you would be a very good friend, my name is jaime, nice to meet you."
i feel like this entry is incomplete, because its all about experiences and not relationships (which i feel are much more important) but oh well. i'll write about those some other day. i love you all. spend a moment in solitude today.
james
1.13.2007
luke or something
dear friends and lovers,
lately i have been living the fachento life. fachento is a word used here that means something along the lines of a little luxurious. class for english teachers with the fabretto program has begun. we sit in what is basically a meeting room, or a board room, if you will. white board on the wall, large table in the middle, air conditioning, coffee always ready, cold and hot water, a large tv, laptops with wireless access... its always amazing to me how much non-profits spend on their own comfort, but cést la vie, right? the change has been interesting since i leave in the morning and come home in the evening, but it is making me appreciate my community mates even more. there is something really really nice about coming home to people that i really love spending time with after a long (boringish) day. but it is useful and good to meet the other english teachers that will be working around
the other day we went to see daniel ortega get sworn in as the new president... after the official stuff, papers, promises, and handshakes, he came out to the waiting hundreds of thousands of people waiting in the plaza. a lot of fancy words from the first wife and then everyone got what they were waiting for. hugo chavez. he spoke eloquently about death to the northamerican imperialists and how capitalism is savage. give me socialism or give me death more or less. i listened. i try to respect his opinion as much as any one else's i've heard speak, from jon sobrino to megan heeney to the drunk men that call out to me to speak about bush. some people draw such a distinction between bush and chavez, but to me they are really just two people who think that by gaining power through the threat of violence they can somehow better the world. in that sense, they are both fools on the same side... the opposite side of they way in which god lived as a human being. when the devil tempted jesus with power over all the nations of the world because they belong to him, jesus refused to accept that. he instead left the desert more committed to living a life of service embracing the poverty of the world in order to sanctify it and transform it. anyway though, it was quite comical after chavez and evo morales were done talking, daniel began his speech and a lot of people started leaving… here there is a saying, “i’m a sandinista, not a danielista” which basically means that one supports the ideals of the revolutionary party, but not the man that has “become corrupt.” it must be difficult to be the president of a country where thousands start walking out on you when you begin talking after listening attentively to one of your “compatriots.” i’m not sure if i believe in corruption though… it makes it seem as if taking money from others that doesn’t belong to you isn’t already a part of the capitalism system. i think it is, but i was raised with money and opportunity earned off of the backs of other peoples, many already dead, slaves, indians, children, and the list goes on. and education? i’m supposed to somehow break the circle of poverty with education? i think rather i can help some succeed within the system that requires poverty, but who knows. thomas merton talked about reading a story about a man that he said was like jesus, was more than jesus, and he said that because in reading the story, his perspective of jesus was renewed and refreshed, while we carry soooo much baggage around with us about the person who is supposed to be the fullest manifestation of god. i have started reading the book of luke in spanish, in hopes of some rediscovery. but i ask you all to pray for me, i am struggling right now with understanding rather than being understood. i will keep all of you in my thoughts as well.
james
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