400 Kids Carrying Desks on Their Heads

>> Monday, February 04, 2008

Today was the first day of classes for Nicaraguan schools and it was pretty easy to tell this morning. For the first time in a couple of months, everyone under 18 was wearing blue pants and a white shirt (nationwide uniforms--even for private schools) and Holly and I had stuff to do in the morning.

When I got to school in the afternoon the corridors were completely packed with students and parents. Why weren't they all in their classrooms? Well, it's because classes weren't assigned yet. There was a brief assembly where people half-heartedly mumbled the national anthem and then everyone tried to find their classrooms. For the first year students this was really confusing because none of them had any idea which of the five sections was theirs. A teacher would read the list of names to the few students gathered around and everyone who wasn't on that list had to go find another teacher to see if their name was on that list. What's more, even though students weren't assigned classrooms yet, they all got very territorial about the best desks. Rather than first find their classroom and then find a place to sit, everyone got a desk first and just carried it from room to room on their heads. This definitely didn't help the congestion in the hallways.

Needless to say we didn't do much teaching today. We might begin tomorrow, but the schedules still haven't been finished. Our school is short about 3 teachers so right now 220+ students are going to be crammed into three first'year classrooms. I'm ready to start teaching, but 73.3 students in each class might make things a little tougher.

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More 80's Music References

>> Thursday, January 31, 2008

There's a really great article in Time Magazine about Nicaragua and I suggest everyone check it out. It even mentions Masaya, so it's almost like we were mentioned in Time.

Tuesday, Jan. 08, 2008
'How Far Are You From the Place Bono Sang About?'
By Tim Rogers/Managua

A year after Irish rocker Bono visited Nicaragua in 1986 in an effort to raise awareness about Central American war refugees, U2 released its smash-hit album The Joshua Tree and Nicaraguans immediately recognized that one of the songs was written about their country. Twenty years later, most people here still hold as fact that "Where the Streets Have No Name" was written about Managua, a squat and sprawling capital city where... well, the streets are unnamed.

The Managua of today still has the feeling of a rural backwater that hopes to one day grow up to be a capital city. No building is taller than 10 stories. There are still more trees than buildings, and going "downtown" means going to the Metrocentro shopping mall.

Finding one's way around Nicaragua means developing an intimate understanding of the spatial relations between current and past landmarks, some of which were destroyed more than 30 years ago in the 1972 earthquake. Stephen Kinzer, a former New York Times bureau chief based in Managua in the 1980s, accurately describes the fine art of giving directions in Managua as a "Socratic" technique, based on first determining what the direction-asker knows, then working backward from there.

For example, if a foreigner were to ask, "how do you get to the Nicaraguan Tourism Institute?," the conversation might go something like this:

"Well, do you know where Casa de Los Mejia Godoy is? Where Antojitos Restaurant used to be?"
"No."
"Do you know where the former Lips strip club was?"
"No."
"The Hotel Crowne Plaza, which used to be the Hotel Inter-Continental?"
"Bingo."
"From there, it's one block south, one block down."

One block "down," of course, is Managua code for "one block west." And, in the case of the Tourism Institute, west is literally downhill, so you can't get lost. In other cases, however, "one block down" really means one block uphill, adding a new level of adventure to the game. To further confuse things, directions are also given in an anachronistic unit of measurement known as a "vara," which is apparently based on the arm-length of a former nobleman from sometime and someplace in the distant past.

Outside of the capital, giving directions is an equally colorful experience. My girlfriend's college friend lives in Jinotepe, "half a block north from where the Indian died." Even on the Caribbean coast, which was settled by the British rather than the Spaniards, things are equally relative. British expatriate Louise Calder lives in the Caribbean city of Bluefields, "in front of Francisco Herrera's house." Her neighbor, Mr. Herrera, in return, lists his address as "in front of Louise Calder's house."

My favorite address story, however, comes from neighboring Costa Rica, where I lived for several years before moving to Nicaragua. Six years ago, my friend Blake Tenore sent out an e-mail to a list of old college friends, asking for people's addresses to send out Christmas cards. Since I lived in a house without a street address, I jokingly e-mailed him back with the directions that I used in Spanish to tell people how to get to my house: "From the Lourdes Church in Montes de Oca, two blocks west, past the Pali supermarket, take a right at the next corner where an old woman sells fruit, past the Bar Maguey and go to the end of the dead end street, where there's a two-story white house with a black gate, where the gringos live. Costa Rica, Central America." To my surprise, a Christmas card arrived three weeks later, with the smallest and most careful handwriting I have ever seen printed on an envelope.

The funniest part about giving directions in this corner of the world is that some streets actually do have names, but no one knows what they are. My girlfriend, by chance, recently saw an official government map of her hometown, Masaya, Nicaragua, and discovered that the street where she had grown up in fact has a name: Calle Palo Blanco.

Now, as a joke, sometimes when we get into a taxi, we tell the cab driver to take us to "Calle Palo Blanco," to which he invariably responds by staring at us blankly in the rearview mirror. Then we give the more common address, "From the San Jeronimo Shell Station, two and a half blocks down." And off we go without further question.

So perhaps Bono did in fact write a song inspired by his trip to Nicaragua, but my guess is that it was "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For."

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They Did Their Homework!

>> Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Last week was the English Immersion Summer Camp, but now we’re back home and here I am, up early on a Wednesday morning because it’s trash day. We have to wake up early to put the trash out; if it goes out the night before, the dogs will tear it apart and make a giant mess. As I was outside putting away the trash, the paper man walked by so I got a La Prensa in which I noticed an article saying that Ortega committed the Nicaraguan military to Venezuela to fight against the US. That kind of scared me and made me wonder what Nicaragua got itself into. I made a mental note to search Google news later to see if this was noticed in the US media (it seems like cooler heads prevailed). All of these forces combined keep me from getting back to sleep so I just accepted it and made some great Matagalpan coffee in my French press (thanks, Santa!) and started listening to my iPod to find a song that would be good to teach my community English class tonight.

We taught Gnarls Barkley’s Crazy to our “Beginner” summer camp class and that went over really well, but I think those kids are a little more advanced than my English II class at the library. This makes me a little sad; the summer camp was so inspiring because all of the students were really motivated and wanted to learn as much as they could. I didn’t hear “Profe, no entieeeeeeendo” (“Teacher, I don’t understaaaand”) a single time all week, which is something I hear at least once every hour at my high school.

Last week’s newspaper article about the camp said that it was the 100 best students in the country and (for the most part) I believe it. Everyone was really eager to speak in English and practice while they had the opportunity. The whole week was a great cultural exchange and we got to teach advanced concepts like Americans’ aversion to butting in line and the always-useful phrase, “Who cut the cheese?” All of the classes were completely in English and the students participated enthusiastically.

The summer camp was split between beginner and intermediate (5 classes total) and during the second week there were 10 Volunteers teaching the listening and speaking, reading and vocabulary, and culture classes, so most of us taught together. Jeff and I taught listening and speaking to beginners while Holly and Nicole took the intermediate listening/speaking classes. Here’s Nicole doing something wild:And Jeff about to get mauled thanks to an ill-conceived game of Spoons:All of the students had to learn the US National Anthem and the Pledge of Allegiance (which might have been taking things a little too far), but I think this group worked in some subtle protests… see if you can spot the rebellion:

Here’s one of our classes:

And one of Holly’s:

Here’s Holly’s other class showing off their homework (they did their homework!). They had to design a new clothing invention and make up an advertisement for it:Each class had just 20 students, which meant that we got to play a lot of games and have more fun in class. Here’s a game we played with balloons:

Here’s a board game that was a big success and that showcases Nicaraguans’ love for 80s pop culture (they got to choose which people to put on their game boards):

We also took a couple of field trips. When we went to El Nuevo Diario the students got to talk to the reporters and walk around the office:

For the close of the camp, Ambassador Trivelli came by to speak to the group and to pose for pictures. Here is Ambassador Trivelli, the PC Nicaragua country director, the Nicaraguan teachers that worked at the camp during the first week, and all the Volunteers that helped:

Here we are with Holly’s student from Masaya that went to the camp, Mosiah:

Just like all of the best summer camps, it was really hard for everyone to say goodbye when it was over. It was a big success and we’re ready to sign up for next year.

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Funny like Joke

>> Thursday, January 24, 2008

Paul's summer camp class has been learning to describe people. To practice, they did a role-playing activity where they had to describe a lost friend to a police officer:

Police Officer: Hi. Can I help you?
Student: Yes. I am looking for my friend, Mario. He is missing.
Police Officer: What does he look like?
Student: He is tall, has curly hair, and is fat like elephant.
Police Officer: Anything else?
Student: No. That is all.

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Salimos en el periodico

>> Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Yesterday our summer camp went to visit the El Nuevo Diario (one of the two main papers) headquarters and after the tour we got our picture taken. This morning we opened up the paper to see the headline "The 100 best visit El Nuevo Diario" with a picture of the group. Holly and I can really only be picked out by the keenest Where's Waldo eye, though (especially in that tiny picture). I'm all the way in the back and when I was standing back there some drunk stranger wandered up to be in the picture with us and decided to stand right next to me. I bet he's very proud of the "100 best" distinction.

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