My Little Mocos

“Red, Rojo

Red, Rojo

Verde, Green

Verde, Green

Amarillo, Yellow

Amarillo, Yellow

Azul, Blue

Azul, Blue”

The singing voices of twenty-five small children fill the dimly lit classroom.  Most of the kids are holding hands in a large circle.  They are jumping up and down wildly and chanting the new rhyme that they have learned in today’s English class.

“Reeeed, Rojo

Reeeeeeeed, Rojo

Verde, Greeeeeeen

Verde, Greeeeeeeeeeen

Amarillo, YEH-LOW

Amarillo, YEH-LOW

Azul, Bluuuuuuuue

Azul, Bluuuuuuuuuuue”

With each repetition of the song, I change things up and try to make it even more fun and ridiculous than the last version.  The students started the class sitting at their tables (which are conveniently painted to match the four colors mentioned in the song) and touching each color as we sang about it.  Then, we got to our feet and sang along to a little dance that involves lots of clapping, drumming on our legs and shaking our heads around like lunatics (the latter is obviously their favorite).  Now we’ve moved up to the front of the class to form our big group circle.  Holding hands seems to be helping keep the kids together and minimizing the chaos.

In the three-year-old room, keeping everyone engaged and on task is no easy feat.  Not only is this only our third English class of the year, but they also lack general experience in the classroom since it is just their second month of school.  Despite my best efforts to round everyone up, there are still a few kids who haven’t quite made it yet.

Luckily, I have the help of a WAVES volunteer, as well as the students’ regular teacher during my two weekly classes.  This gives me the freedom to concentrate on the students who are on task while my helpers work on integrating the stragglers into the larger group or working with them individually, if needed.

Kristin, my volunteer for the day, also helps me later in the class when we go around the room and evaluate the students individually.  They are very excited because, after correctly identifying the color of each item, each child is given a paper bracelet, some stickers and a small piece of candy.

Sometimes, the rewards for repeating a word or arriving at a correct answer are even more simple.  Although, like any group of three year olds, they spend a good part of their day playing in the dirt and picking their noses, handshakes have become a staple in the classroom.  When I saw how much excitement this simple gesture evoked during our first few class, I put aside my urges to dip the kids in a large vat of Lysol and started using handshakes as one of our primary sources of positive reinforcement.  Pair that with a few simple words of affirmation (in English) and you're golden...germs be damned! 

Although I have quite a bit of experience with kids, this is the youngest group I've ever worked with and it continues to present new challenges and personal learning opportunities.  Their unbridled enthusiasm and endless energy make them a pleasure to work with and the fact that they're just stinking adorable doesn't hurt either.

Una Blusa Lila

I’m sorry. In retrospect, I guess it was a slightly misleading to call something the “first update on my new life in Peru” when, in reality, the post contained next to no actual information about that new life.  Instead, I gave you a long, incoherent list of Spanglish words and phrases and left you to your own devices to decipher how they might relate to my first few weeks in Lobitos.  Hopefully the next few posts will shed a little light on, at least, some of them.  Let’s start with una blusa lila; a lavender blouse.

I arrived to Lobitos at mid-morning on Monday and started work on Tuesday.  The old secondary school English teacher had quit abruptly which is why everything turned around so quickly. 

The timing was a bit strange really.  Coincidently, Kate had contacted me about the available position the day before the shit hit the fan with the mine in Chile.  After we spoke, I walked away from the conversation feeling really bummed about missing out on the spot, the surf and the organization; all three of which Kate had been raving about literally every time I’d talked to her for the previous seven months since she left Iquique.

When the mining job was suddenly pulled out from underneath me, my initial response (as you may have read about in this post) was utter disbelief followed my blinding rage, waterworks, feeling totally directionless and confused about the next step to take and a long rant-tastic blog post.  Essentially, I worked my way through something roughly resembling the five stages of grief… in the span of about an hour.  I was literally still walking home; with red cheeks and puffy eyes when I remembered about the job in Lobitos.  I think I actually might have jumped off the ground a little, I was so excited about the idea.  I ran home and sent Kate about a million messages via facebook and skype telling her to get in touch with me ASAeffingP.  28 days, and way too many travel hours later, I was here.

They kids were already three weeks into the school year when I arrived because of my little detour back to North America so I hit the ground running; no time to lose.  First thing Tuesday morning, I went to talk to the directora of secondary school.  I was terrified.  I had already heard that she was a little "complicated" (a euphemism Spanish-speakers commonly use to avoid directly calling someone a bitch) so I was trying to make a good impression by dressing professional for our meeting, sitting up straight and minding my ps and qs.  I have never been looked up and down so hard by an authority figure in my entire life. 

 My outfit got the thumbs-up from my co-workers but was I still scolded profusely.  She explained the exact uniform I should be wearing (speaking slowly and annunciating to make sure I understood); looooseeellllyyyyyy fiiiittttiinnnnggg bbllllaaacccckkkkk slllaaccckkkkks, bbbbllllaaccckkkkkkkk cccccllloooooooseeeee-ttttoooooooooeeeeedddddd ssshhhoooeeeesssss aaaaannnnnddddd aaaa llllaaaavvveeeennnndddarrrr bbbbbllllouuuuussssseee.  Then, to make sure I really got it, she explained it three more times.

The first two weeks were rough.  The kids were awesome, a bit hard-to-manage at times, but overall engaged, fun and a pleasure to work with.  When I was in the classroom, I was happy but the administrative side of things was driving me nuts.  

Every day, I showed up to the directora's office where she scrutinized my outfits and threw together an arbitrary schedule for my day.  Then I would run home (luckily, just across the street) and scramble to get things prepared before running back to school.  It was chaos and would likely have continued this way up until now if the organization where I work hadn 't put their very influencial foot down.  All it took was one stern phone call simply stating that, unless I was given an actual schedule, I would not be returning to teach English; which we provide to the school free of charge (and they are required by law to teach).

The directora cracked instantly.  She immediately put together the schedule which was communicated by phone and handed to me on the Monday of my third week.  I haven 't seen her once since then.  She hasn 't even popped into one of my classes to tell me how to manage it or to snap at one of my students for looking at her (not joking...we 're talking Cruella Deville here).  

I never did buy the outfit she so slowly and clearly communicated to me during our first meeting.  It wasn 't part of the power struggle, they just don 't happen to sell those things in the one store I frequent, 20 minutes away in Talara (there isn 't even a grocery store in our town lady...give me a break).  I have, however, found somewhat of a compromise: a lavendar shirt with a black skirt and close-toed shoes.  So far it seems to keep her appeased at least enough to let me do my job in peace.  Which is great, because I love my job.

¡Qué sorpresa!

Lobitos, Peru

A few of you may have caught my last post (please excuse my weak attempt at being enigmatic there).  “Some airport somewhere” (if you even care at this point), happened to be LAS; Mccarran International Airport in Las Vegas.  About a dozen hours deep into almost exactly three solid days of traveling back down south, the photo resembles something between a mug shot and a PSA for sleep deprivation. 

My master plan was to maintain a little ambiguity about my current whereabouts until I finished off the pile of half-finished posts about Chile that have been collecting dust in my drafts folder.  After that, I would release the news that SURPRISE, I live in Peru now.  Unfortunately, I frankly just don’t have the patience for that and I’m terrible at keeping secrets.

In fact, I’m amazed that I was actually able to keep my last minute trip to the states a surprise from my family for as long as I did.  I freaked the ba’jesus out of my sister and dad during two separate but equally wonderful surprise attacks and made a few, less successful, attempts to surprise my friends, who already had their suspicions about me coming up.

The ten days at home were (at the risk of sounding cliché) just what the doctor ordered.  Though chaotic and exhausting, I can’t even articulate how wonderful it was to have the time with Jeff and to see so many fabulous people that I have been missing so much.  

My journey started with a 5.5-hour bus from Iquique to Arica, followed by a quick 45-minute taxi across the border at Tacna and a (not-so-quick) twenty-hour bus to Lima (23 hours).  At the Cruz del Sur station, I touched base with a couch surfer friend in Mira Flores and caught a taxi straight to his house for a (much needed) shower and some lunch.  He showed me around the neighborhood a bit (beautiful by the way) and I set off for an unnecessarily long triple-layover flight through Huston, Vegas and, finally, LA. 

After my awesome little ten-day vay-cay, I retraced my steps back through LA, Vegas and Huston.  However, instead of busing back down south to Chile upon my arrival to Lima, I spent one night there before embarking on a different twenty-hour busing adventure (note the sarcasm in my voice).  Hopefully my last all-day bus ride for a while, this trip brought me to Talara.  Once there, a “moto” (motercycle with a little car for passengers built around it) carried me to a “combi” (a van used for transfers between Talara and Lobitos) where my luggage was tied to the roof while I crammed myself inside with fifteen Peruvians.  Twenty minutes down a dusty desert road and I was finally home.

Now I’ve been in Lobitos for about two weeks.  Things have been a bit rocky here and there but overall, I am having a wonderful time.  I feel like there are a million and one things I want to update you on  but, frankly, my blogging stamana is down after a few weeks of not writing and I feel a little overwhelmed.  Instead, I will just try to capture the highlights with this thirty word summary and elaborate later....

Waves. 
Water.

Thorns. 

Girls. 
Calluses.

Mosquitos. 

Ceviche. 

Cera. 

Rum. 

Coke. 

Shortcut. 

Vomit. 

ER. 

Mermaid Cast.   

Sunsets. 

Chifles. 

Mocos. 

Miss Alicia. 

Una Blusa Lila. 

Hello, Hello, Hello. 

¿Puedo Salir A Toser? 

Greetings From Some Airport Somewhere...

Round and round and round she goes...where she stops, nobody knows.

Painful Lessons in Vocabulary

The beauty of living in another country is the daily opportunity to learn new things.  Between the culture, the people and the language, there are always new things to discover.  However, like with anything, there can be growing pains along the way.  Here are ten of the most painful Spanish vocabulary words I've learned in Chile:

1. Hinchado/a: I learned this little beauty of a word back in May when my board popped me right in the face during a surf lesson.  I got this nice fat lip (pictured above) as a souvenir and the word "hinchado" (swolen or, in this case, fat) as a long-term reminder of what a kook I was  am in the water.
  
2. Multa: This unknown vocabulary word kept popping up on our itemized lists of gastos comunes (shared community charges that pretty much every apartment building in Chile charges) at our old place.  One day, we got the brilliant idea to look it up and found out that we were being charged a "multa" (fee) for paying those gastos comunes late...almost every month.  Lesson(s) learned.

3 & 4. Asangrar & Toser: I never really found the need to know either of these words until Jeff arrived to Chile and began doing both of them at the same time.  A nasty case of strep throat (his second week in Chile) brought us to the infamous Clinica Iquique with a little scrap of paper that held our very important new vocabulary words: "toser" (to cough) and "asangrar" (to bleed).

5. Riñón: Although I had the basic body parts down before moving to Chile, I never made it around to the internal organs.  It wasn't until I had a triple dos of terrible in the form of e.coli, salmonella and an infected "riñón" (kidney) that I learned this little gem of a word.  

PS. I still don't know the names of any of my other internal organs, including my liver; although I've put her through quite a lot here in Chile.  I blame the terremotos.

6. Gusano: Speaking of drinking...after being force-fed the "gusano" (worm) at the bottom of the mescal bottle by a very drunk friend, this slimy (yet satisfying) piece of vocabulary won't be soon forgotten.

7. Atropellar: One day, I was talking with my good friend Kenita via facebook chat and she said, "¡Alguien me atropelló en Baquedano!" which (roughly translated) means "Someone somethinged me on Baquedano!"  Thanks to the fabulous spanishdict.com, I was able to look up the word instantly and find out (to my shock and horror) that someone RAN HER OVER...on the street I walked down every day to work.  Dually noted.

8. Celeste: This painful vocabulary lesson took place on my October trip to Peru.  When I showed the park rangers in the lost and found office a little bag that my mom made me and asked if they had seen a similar one with a camera in it, they made an announcement over the walkie-talkie system about a bolsa celeste; a word I had never heard before.  That day I learned that "celeste" meant sky blue and begrudgingly took this vocabulary word home instead of my pictures from Machu Picchu.  RIP Camera :(  

9. Resbalar: For some reason, this was a word that I could never remember for the longest time.  Surf class after wax-deprived surf class I would mime it out to my surf teacher by gliding my hand along my surfboard and exaggeratedly falling back into the water to show how I had just "resbalar"ed (slipped) on my ass.  This was followed by a plea for mercy and "cera" (wax).

10. Erizo: The newest edition to my painful vocabulary list is erizo; a word I had heard several times but never committed it to memory until it committed itself to my foot.  Last weekend, while beach camping just outside of Iquique, I made a new (not so friendly) friend when I stepped on this critter in the ocean and he (or she) left one of its pokey little spines in my foot.  Ouch "erizo" (sea urchin) ouch.

TEFLbloggers.com

Oh hey, look whose the new resident writer for Chile TEFLbloggers.com! To celebrate (and because I'd hate for anyone who found my blog this way to be greeted with the biggest bummer of a blog post I've ever written), I've put together a little collection of blog posts that might be particularly interesting or helpful to someone who is considering teaching English as a foreign language in Chile.  I hope these ten selections (in no particular order) will give you a good little overview of what my experience here in Chile has been.  I also plan to post a lot more blogs specifically about life in Chile and TEFLing in the near future so stay tuned.  In the meantime, happy reading :)

•  My First Few Days in Santiago
• Leaving Santiago and finding Iquique
• First Month in Iquique
• Spending the Holidays Away From Home
• New Years in Valpariaso
• Five Random Things About Chile
• My Trip to Peru
• Chilean Independence Day
• Reflection After Finishing A Year In Chile
• A Video Slideshow of My First Year in Chile

Lamentablemente

The Word of the Day, I was informed, was lamentablemente.

lah-mehn-tah'-bleh-mehn-teh
(adverb) unfortunately, regrettably

Examples

1. Lamentablemente, cuando llegamos a la playa había empezado a llover.
   Unfortunately, when we got to the beach it had started to rain.
2. Lamentablemente, cuando Claudia llegó al viñedo, Eduardo estaba encamado, sin muchos ánimos de seguir luchando.
   
   

   Regrettably, when Claudia got to the vineyard, Eduardo was bedridden, with not much of a will to continue fighting.

   
   

   Both coincidentally and quite lamentable in and of itself, I not only already knew the word, but had also had it thrown at me just a few hours prior.  It was used as an opener to laundry list of unfortunate developments in my work situation.  Lamentablemente, the mining company had confirmed earlier that day that they changed their mind about needing a native speaker at the site.  Lamentablemente, they were now requesting a teacher who was qualified both to teach both English to their Chilean workers as well as Spanish to their Canadian workers.  Lamentablemente, I didn't fit the bill.  Lamentablemente, since I was only staying until July and wasn't going to the mine anymore, it wasn't worth their time to give me a visa... 
   
   I stared at my boss for a few seconds in silence until I could absorb the full shock of the blow.  Her tone of voice was so light and casual that I needed a moment to bend my brain around the words she was saying and wring out the weight of their true meaning.  Her tone and facial expression said something more along the lines of, "Unfortunately, when we got to the beach it had started to rain." but the words coming out out of her mouth were infinitely more destructive.
   
   In my mind's eye, I could see all of my plans lined up in a neat little row.  With one clumsy flick of the wrist, she knocked down the first of them and they fell like dominoes; each one colapsing onto the next.  There wasn't a glimmer of sympathy involved, not even a simple "I'm sorry", just the dreaded Lamentablemente. I was back to square one.
   
   I felt like Charlie Brown, running at full speed towards that football, only to have it yanked away at the last second and fall flat on my ass.  That's beginning to describe my relationship with the academy alarmingly well.  It seems to be empty promise after empty promise with them lately.  I always approach cautiosly at first but (much like Charlie) am quickly convinced to give more trust than has been earned.  
   
   Within the next few weeks, I'll be scrambling to put together a new plan (be it in Iquique or elsewhere).  When my other boss gets back from vacation, I'm sure he'll have lots of lovely things to tell me about how great it will be for me if I stay on here in Iquique.  He'll hold out another football and things will seem shiny and new and promising again.  Maybe I'll run after it, or maybe I'll just walk away.