Coming back to the original hotel was bittersweet. It meant I got to see everyone again and hear about their amazing adventures in all different parts of Peru, and it meant the most difficult segment of the trip was over. But it also signified that my time in Peru was coming to an end. And, though I was certainly ready to be home, see my wife, and sleep in my own bed, I wasn't entirely prepared to say goodbye to these people and this country. Often we find ourselves looking to the next thing, focusing on what we will do or what we need to do, rather than what we are doing. I've even caught myself in the midst of doing things I've been excitedly anticipating for weeks waiting for it to be over so I can do the next thing on the agenda. But there was not a moment on this trip where I was looking ahead. So many times during this experience, as my partner teacher can attest, I just said out loud, with an unmistakeable tone equal parts incredulous and amazed, "I'm in Peru!" Or whispered (or shouted), "I love my life!" Perhaps we take for granted the things we do, thinking that our experiences are not unique, and that we can recreate them any time we want. We can go to another concert or another ball game, we can see those friends any time, we can go back to that great place that we visited, etc. We don't, or we can't, but we fool ourselves into thinking we will, so we let moments pass without really appreciating what they are and how they are shaping us for the better. But this experience felt special every step of the way. It was easy to see that I would not have another opportunity to travel to a country I did not know and where I do not speak the language, sit and teach in their classrooms, meet and learn from teachers and students in that country, and talk through different perspectives with a cast of brilliant and passionate teachers from around the United States, forming great relationships with these teachers under the common stress of the trip. I wanted to be home so badly, but I was not ready to give all of that up yet. Here are a few things I am grateful for regarding this experience: - The opportunity to be in a place where I do not speak the language: Several times, I found myself in a classroom trying to piece together what was going on based on what the students were doing and the very limited Spanish that I know. Most of my clues came from what was happening, and not what was said - as mentioned, my Spanish skills are negligible, and most people were talking too quickly for me to pick up even the words I knew. My partner and my host teacher translated much of it, but sometimes, circumstances prevented them from translating for me (in the middle of a class we were observing, for example). And I felt it. I felt what many of my students who have just come to the U.S. must feel. I felt alone, isolated. I was an outsider. I couldn't understand what the teacher was asking. Even if I did, I didn't have the language skills to respond, to show what I know, to demonstrate my intelligence. I stood or sat silently while others around me laughed at a joke that was told. That was perhaps the most lonely feeling I experienced. Humor is a strong social bond, and when you can't participate in it, you feel like you are invisible, even in a small group. But sometimes I was able to communicate. Seeing what was effective and what I realized I needed the other person to say or do in order for me to understand made me think about how I can communicate more effectively with any students I have who are still building their English skills. And it made me aware of how socially isolated they can feel, and what I can do to prevent that. - Seeing an education system with a completely different focus than the U.S.: There has been a great deal of criticism regarding the education system in the United States. And though the education system here deserves criticism, much of it is misguided and uninformed. I hear all of the time how schools in the United States only serve to program the youth of America - to make them good workers and consumers, and to strip them of any critical thinking, telling them what to think instead of how to think. Most people who offer this criticism do so because that's how it was when they went to school 30 or 40 years ago. You just memorized facts and formulas, and regurgitated them to your teacher. But that is not the truth. We ask our students to prove their statements, to form an opinion that is informed by confirmed facts from credible sources, to solve problems multiple ways to demonstrate true understanding. This is what the oft maligned Common Core was all about (that is not to say I didn't have other problems with the Common Core). In Peru, we saw where the U.S. was 30 years ago, an education system based on memorizing and reciting facts, which many teachers there are trying to change. But what have we sacrificed making this change? In Peru, I saw a culture of hard-working, dedicated students who respected their teachers and their education. I saw incredible organizational skills, including the ability to set goals. And yes, I saw memorization...which is still very necessary in a classroom. All of these things are important parts of a child's education. We may be fully focused on critical thinking here in the U.S., but it seems like we have forgotten some of the basics that will help children to achieve the goals we have set for them. There has to be some way to balance this out. - The opportunity to meet, talk to, and collaborate with teachers from a different country/culture/perspective: I can't wait to have my students hear from teachers/students in Peru, and see an outside perspective on some of the things we discuss in our class, including Human Rights and immigration. It is an experience I would never have thought to give the kids without this program. The Return of the Teachers: When we all did arrive back at the original hotel, there were lots of hugs and kisses, and great stories shared over meals. Alas, on a sad note, most of our meals upon returning were group meals, meaning there were limited options to choose from. So I regret to report that I never got a chance to even attempt to get the oxtail at the hotel (I know you've been wondering). This saddened me at first, until I remembered that I know the good Jamaican spot near Dyre Ave. in the Bronx that has amazing oxtail, so I consoled myself with the knowledge that delicious oxtail would be coming at some point soon. Also, hearing the stories the others told about their experiences made me both jealous and grateful. My partner and I did not go to the jungle or the mountains, we did not get to see remote parts of the country and live among the people, we did not get to participate in ancient ceremonies or learn traditions that were completely foreign to us. But we also did not have to worry about hot water, phone signals and wifi, altitude sickness, or eating/drinking things every day that our bodies may not agree with. What seemed to be the common thread, though, was the relationship between the teachers and the host teacher/principal, and what effect that had on the experience. Much like a school administration will make or break a school, the host teacher/principal set the tone for the host school experience. Most forged deep relationships with their hosts, which was reflected in the joy they expressed talking about their experiences. I am very grateful (there's that word again) that our host teacher, Thalia, was as kind, considerate, and generous with her time as she was. It truly made the time in her school - the whole week, in fact - as pleasurable, informative, and joyful as it could be. Our few days back together involved some debriefing as group, which I will discuss more in my reflection on my guiding question, and some fun and interesting activities. The person who heads up the Fulbright office in Peru, Laura, gave us a guided tour of an exhibit on the domestic terrorism/civil war that claimed over 70,000 lives during the 1980's and 90's. That was not fun, but it was powerful, and at times horrifying. But afterwards, she took us to get the best churros in Lima, followed by the best chocolate in Lima, followed by the best coffee in Lima, so she's pretty much my favorite person. The funny thing is, the "best churros" were at a place that my partner and I had walked past almost every night, and had wondered out loud how good the churros there were. Well, they were pretty damn delicious. I don't know the name of the place, but if you're ever in Lima, I can tell you exactly how to get there. I can also tell you they had churros filled with chocolate, vanilla, dulce de leche, and nutella. Over the course of two days, I tried every single one. This may be blasphemy to some, but the vanilla ones were my favorite. I know, I was surprised, too! The "best chocolate," according to Laura, was at Choco Museo, which is a chain of chocolate shops around Lima. The chocolate was excellent, though I can't say it was the best I had there. But they did have the widest range of chocolate products (chocolate tea, liqueur, soap, etc.) and offered classes on how chocolate is made. The best coffee was at Arabica. I did not put quotations on that because that is not up for debate. Between all of the teachers that were there going multiple times, they probably earned half of their month's profits in three days. I brought three bags of their coffee home with me. It's already almost gone. We also toured the Temple of the Rising Sun in Pachacamac, an active archaeological site along the ancient Inca trail. The archaeologists have left bones that they have dug up along the trail leading to the top so that visitors can see them. The red on the stones in the picture is the original paint that was used on the temple, which is dated to around the 1300's. In addition, we designed our own Pucaras. A pucara is a figurine of a bull with the face of a llama. They are often placed on top of houses, or inside houses facing the door. They protect the house and promote prosperity. They are also often very decorative. Well, I'm not very artistically-inclined. Not visually, anyway. I can't paint. So I decided my best course of action would be to create the most metal pucara in Peru. I will not bore you with the details of saying goodbye to everyone. Besides, it's not something I currently wish to relive. As I said, I wasn't quite ready to say goodbye. But the bright side of the program ending was starting the next leg of my trip - one that another teacher and I had planned several weeks before leaving. Peru is a beautiful country with so many incredible, ancient, spectacular sites to see. We could not leave the country without seeing the most spectacular of them all: Machu Picchu. Rarely am I at a loss for words, but as I have said several times since returning, there are no words that I could conjure that could sufficiently express how in awe of Machu Picchu I was. The journey there aboard a train through the Sacred Valley, the bus ride carefully navigating all of the switchbacks to reach the top, and then seeing Machu Picchu itself - the pure beauty of the location nestled between breathtaking peaks, and the mind-blowing feats of engineering it took to build the city... I can show people pictures, but it will never come close to the exhilaration of being there in person. It was another day that I walked around saying out loud, "I'm in Machu Picchu...I love my life!" On a side note, the city of Cusco, which you have to fly into if you are going to see Machu Picchu, is also a very beautiful town. It is at a higher elevation than Machu Picchu (MP is about 8,000 ft, Cusco is over 11,000 ft), so I recommend altitude sickness meds and lots of coca tea. I also recommend sitting in one of the many cafes that overlook the town square and having some lunch. Let me explain...there is no time, let me sum up: I hope that anyone who happened upon this blog has enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it, and as much as I have enjoyed having the experience that enabled me to write it. This is a program that every teacher should go through, for both personal and professional growth. I do not have the ability to list all the ways that it has helped me and has the potential to help me, both inside and outside of the classroom. The mission of the program is to get our students ready for a connected world, to instill in them the global competencies they will need to communicate, work with, and understand people from different cultures. In an ever-shrinking world, these are skills that we all need - not just to help us professionally, but to help ensure that we continue to help and care for each other, to grow as a species. This is not hippie, new-age talk about how we all just need to love each other and get along. These are practical skills that are needed in the world today, whether you are dealing with someone from another country or another neighborhood. The ability to see and understand another's perspective means we can communicate better to achieve our goals, simple and plain. We do not need an overhaul of the education system to achieve this - as teachers, we only need to shift our focus slightly and be intentional about it. It's easier than you think, and more necessary that I can ever explain in a blog. I'd like to thank the Department of State for funding this program and recognizing its importance, and IREX and Fulbright for developing this program and running it. I am infinitely grateful to have had this opportunity. I have added a link below to the program page. Applications open in December. If you are an educator, please apply. You will not regret it. Fulbright TGC/ IREX applications
0 Comments
Wednesday, June 27th When we first arrived at the school, we were treated to a visit to the inicial, the pre-k area of the school. Students in Peru enter pre-k at age 3. What do they do? Well, they look adorable, that's the first thing. The class we visited was voting on what they would learn next. The choices were on a ballot that they took turns filling out and putting into a ballot box. But since they cannot read yet, they were checking off the picture of what they wanted to learn. There was a tree, a snail, and a garbage can (they were learning about conservation...in pre-k). **As an aside, I would like to point out that in Peru, NO ONE questioned whether or not climate change existed, or whether human activity contributed to it. NO ONE. When it came up, the discussions were only about what needs to be done about it. Not even the guy I met who told me that the world governments are working with aliens attempted to deny it. Just something to think about.** The snail won, by the way. Know what else 3 year olds do? They get the measles. Ten students were out because of the measles, and about another 5 or 6 were in class who had just recovered, still showing evidence of the marks all over their faces and arms. I asked if they get vaccinated. The teacher said there are two choices for vaccinations - the free ones at the public hospital, and the ones you have to pay for at the private hospitals. The students all got the free ones. I guess you get what you pay for, unfortunately. While in the class, we also learned that the teachers and the teacher's aides are paid by the parents. There is no budget for it from the school, so the parents once again come to the rescue, each chipping in a little to make sure their kids go to school - which is mandated, by the way. Mandated by the Ministry of Education that kids go to inicial, but the school has no money to pay for it. We then took a walk to a primary building to see a math class. On our way, we walked through a courtyard filled with children and dogs (I told you they were everywhere). The school has five dogs, which just walk around the campus as they please. In fact, in the math class we went into, one of the dogs walked in as the students were working. The students did not respond, and the teacher just shooed the dog back outside. Apparently, I was the only one freaking out about it. This class stands out as the only class where students with disabilities were identified. I was told there were two students who were autistic. It is difficult for me to say if that was accurate or not, as communication for me was limited. But the students were doing their work, albeit at a slower pace, and receiving minimal extra help. The students were making three-dimensional shapes that they had learned about. Again, no supplies provided by the school. The kids were told a day in advance that they would need sticks and modeling clay, and all but one student brought in enough. The one who didn't was given some by a classmate. After that visit, we grabbed a quick lunch at the school "cafeteria"...just a little storefront with a few tables for teachers (the students go home to eat), and good, hearty, home cooking-style food. Coffee and alfajores became a regular part of our daily visit, as well. I admire the Peruvians for the strength of their coffee and for the amazing idea of putting dulce de leche in between two cookies and calling them alfajores. I recommend going to find some after you finish reading this. Or go now, I'll wait. Off to the workshop We then headed to another school for our workshop on critical thinking. This was probably the most stressful thing we were asked to do. Prepare a workshop for 5-40 teachers who most likely speak English on critical thinking, and that was the beginning and end of our instructions. We decided to just offer some strategies on what we do with our classes to encourage critical thinking skills, and to make it as interactive as possible. After a very slow and stressful start (during the graffiti talk to open things up, someone wrote, "Speak Spanish"), things took a turn for the way better, and it turned out surprisingly successful! Teachers were engaged, asking questions, and talking about what they were going to take to use in their classrooms. The final count was over 50 teachers. And we learned a lot, as well, not least of which is that Peruvians love selfies. Every teacher there wanted to take a selfie with us and each other. You could even see some teachers taking selfies of the group during the group photo. It was very meta. Thursday, June 28th Our last day in the host school was a difficult one for several reasons. We were asked by our host teacher to do a lesson on gender equity, specifically about violence against women, as that is a major problem in the country and community. My partner and I had tried to come up with some lesson that addressed this issue, but could not think of anything that was satisfactory to us. The bottom line is, this is not our country or culture, and there is no lesson that we can do that will change the culture. And violence against women is a very sensitive topic that, as outsiders, we did not feel that we were in a position to address. After all, we did not think having two teachers from the U.S. standing in front of the room telling the class to not hit women would accomplish anything positive. I mean, we knew it was not going to work the moment we were asked to do it, but how do you leave something like that on the table? So what we did, instead (with the blessing of our host teacher), was develop a lesson on gender stereotypes. We figured if we could plant a seed, hopefully it will grow in a few students. So we showed the students in secundario 5 (sophomores/juniors in the U.S.) descriptions of three people of note in different fields. The first, a highly-accomplished scientist - the first to win two nobel prizes in different areas. The second, a word-renowned fashion designer. The third, a billionaire media mogul. We asked them to choose one who they would most like to emulate, to list the characteristics they would need to accomplish what that person has accomplished, and to draw what they thought the person looked like. As expected, everyone who chose the first and third person drew men, and those who chose the second person drew women. We then revealed the first person - one of the most famous and accomplished scientists of the 20th century - Marie Curie. When her picture popped up on the screen, we heard one male voice say, "Mujer?"(A woman?) That was maybe my favorite classroom moment. As the others were revealed (Tommy Hilfiger and Oprah Winfrey), there were also soft gasps and murmurs in the class. I'd say we accomplished what we wanted with the lesson. In the afternoon, we were led to believe that we would meet some teachers and have a Q&A, but that is not what happened. What did happen was coffee and cake and mas alfajores and a little celebration for us. A few students were invited to perform for us, singing traditional songs. One student chose instead to sing a more modern song - Imagine by John Lennon. Yeah. My favorite song. If you would have told me a year ago that I'd be starting my summer in a classroom in Tablada, drinking coffee and eating alfajores, listening to a Peruvian student sing me John Lennon...well, first of all, I would have said, "That's overly specific," and then I would have said, "You're insane." We also got gifts, including uniform shirts from the school and a box of alfajores! I have to admit, and my partner and wife can both attest to it, there were several moments during this trip where I felt too overcome with emotion to hide it. This was one of them. The principal, the vice-principal, the students, other teachers, and especially our host teacher, Thalia, did everything they could, going above and beyond anything I could have expected, to make us feel welcome and supported every second we were there. They opened their doors and their hearts to us, and I believe them when they said we now have friends in Tablada, and we are welcome back any time we want to come back. I hope they know how appreciative we are. Cutest story ever of the day: Max, our point person at IREX-TGC, came to visit us that day at the school. We gave him a tour of the campus, and as we were leaving the area designated for Inicial, a group of girls, probably around 7 or 8 years old, approached us and looked up at us, just waiting for us to speak. I said, "Buenos dias." The girls looked at each other confused, and then said, "English! English!" So I said, "Good morning, how are you?" The girls eyes all lit up at hearing English being spoken. I asked one of the girls her name. She said, "Almonda." Mishearing her, I said, "Amanda?" My partner corrected me, saying, "Almonda, like almond." But to the girl, this was no mistake. Before I could apologize for saying her name incorrectly, she turned excitedly to her friend and said (in Spanish), "My American name is Amanda! I'm Amanda!" We continued to walk, but now the group of about 6 or 7 girls was following us, asking for their American names. "Teacher! Teacher! What is my name?" They followed us across the entire campus. So I asked each girl her name, and then gave her the American equivalent. However, not all the names had American equivalents, so I had to get creative with a few, as I knew telling them their name in the U.S. is the same would not be very exciting (I knew that because I said that to one girl, who was very disappointed, so I had to make up an American name for her that was close to her own). Friday, June 30th Schools were closed that day for the national holiday celebrating St. Peter and St. Paul. Our host teacher, Thalia, took us around to see different parts of Peru (within driving distance). Accompanying us was her brother and a friend. Our first stop was the beach town of San Bartolo. They were having a celebration, much like the Italian feasts I was familiar with from growing up in the Bronx. People from the town carried a statue of the saint around to different places, stopping for people to make offerings. A band followed, playing what sounded like the music played for Vito Corleone's father's funeral in the Godfather, Part II. The best thing about this procession is that everyone in the town followed it down to the water, where the mayor had given an official decree that a party must take place for the whole town in celebration of the day. Because, as I was told the mayor said, "If we don't have a party, what's this all for?" That's a political platform I can support. Down by the water is also where I discovered the glory of picarones. Not quite a doughnut, not quite a zeppole, but delicious and covered in molasses. While you're out getting the alfajores, see if you can find any picarones. Thanks. We also came across some kids hanging out by the water. They were fishing, and then cutting up what they caught and feeding it to the flock of pelicans eagerly waiting in the water. I though that was a pretty cool way to spend time hanging with friends. We're gonna need some bigger socks
Seeing the kids in bathing suits by the water in what was Peru's winter, I wondered what the temperature of the water was. So I walked up to the shore on the rocky beach, trying to time the waves so that I can just touch the water without getting splashed too badly. Well, the water was very mild. And it's a good thing, too, since I did not see the wave coming up quickly which completely soaked me from the shins down. As i'm ringing out my socks, I realize that I will probably have to go through the rest of the day with wet feet. Well, this is no bueno, and one of my travel companions suggests going to buy new socks in town. Thalia's brother, who speaks even less English than I speak Spanish, says he knows where the market is to buy socks. Great! Except that when we turn up the block to go to the market, everyone else keeps walking straight. My partner turns to me and says, "Good luck, " and walks away with Thalia and her friend towards another beach. And then it hits me - it's just Thalia's brother and me going to get socks. So here I am, walking alongside someone I just met who speaks no English, in a town I don't know in a country I've been in for 10 days, watching the only people I know and can communicate with strolling away from me, and I'm squishing with each step. Turns out, extremely limited Spanish and pantomiming worked just fine, and we were able to find a place that had socks. Except the socks were very small. Similar to when my wife and I were in the Netherlands, and all of the clothes were made for incredibly tall and lanky people, all of the socks for adults in this little beach town of San Bartolo, Peru had no chance of fitting me. Then, I saw one pair of socks with the pictures of NBA players on the package. "Those! Those are the ones I want," I said, pointing at the socks advertised as being for giant humans. I bought the socks, which barely fit over my feet, but it was good enough. Since my shoes were still wet, Thalia's brother suggested I put plastic bags over the socks to keep them and my feet dry. He did this by acting out his suggestion. It was a great suggestion, and I spent the rest of the day with squishy shoes and mostly dry feet. Next, on "I Can't Believe I'm In Peru" Everyone returns from their host communities to debrief and shop. - What did I learn from all of this? - Will I finally get my oxtail? - Can I fit a llama in my suitcase? (No. The answer to the last question is no.) It's been some time since my last blog. There are several reasons that have contributed to this, with only about 5% being laziness. Mostly, it was the lack of free time once all of the teachers traveled to their host communities and schools. So I will cut my experience in the host community into two parts, so that anyone reading this will not need to pause for a meal and several bathroom breaks to finish. You're welcome. My partner and I were assigned to Stella Maris, a school of approximately 3000 students spanning ALL grades - inicial (pre-k), primerio (equivalent to our elementary school), and secundario (Our middle and high school). The school is located about an hour south of Lima in Tablada. My partner and I were instructed to stay in Lima, and to take a taxi to and from the school each day, as our host teacher feared it may not be safe for us to stay in or near Tablada. We were happy with this arrangement - although it meant we would not be getting the once in a lifetime experience that many of our colleagues would have as they traveled to the highlands or the jungle, it did mean that we would be guaranteed a nice hotel to return to every night with a comfortable bed, wifi, hot water, and many food options - things that may have been luxuries for everyone else, and greatly appreciated at the end of long, emotionally exhausting days. The day before we would meet the students in class, our host teacher took us to see some sights in and around Tablada. She wanted us to see where the students are from, and to experience what a normal day may be for them and their families. The sidewalks were paved, but the streets were not. And if they were, they were often unfinished. So the dust from the streets was also often thick in the air. We passed some of the houses on the mountains that I had seen the other day, and our host informed us that many students in the school live in those homes. The thing that stood out immediately was the amount of stray dogs we saw. This would be something we would discover was common in many of the places we went. In fact, of the places we saw, only Lima did not seem to have this issue (though they did have a cat park - more on that later). Many of the dogs were in bad shape - limping, missing patches of fur, ears, or limbs. They were gentle, however, and coexisted very peacefully with the people in all of the towns we saw them in. Our host explained that many people who no longer wanted their dogs would just set them free in the street, and then those dogs would give birth to other dogs who would just grow up in the street. After generations of this, there is a thriving population of street dogs. By the looks of it, life for a dog on the street is not an easy one. We went to the market after that, which was an open-air market filled with everything you could possibly need - food, clothing, toys, household items, etc. Most things were open air in the places we traveled to, which is possible when the temperature in the dead of winter only drops to about 60 degrees. I bought some sugar cane from an old woman. After the exchange of money and goods, the woman smiled at me, held out a plastic bag with a small amount of sugar cane in it, and said, "Yappa." Our host explained that it means something like, "a little more" in Quechua, the language spoken by the indigenous people of Peru (actually, Quechua seems to be a blanket term for all of the languages spoken by the indigenous people). I just thought it was nice that the woman offered me more than what I paid for, and I was happy to learn a new word. There was also a free public park and a park you needed to pay admission to. Both seemed well taken care of, but the pay park also had a swimming pool, a dirt bike track, soccer field, and mini-zoo. Our host told us that in the summer, the park has classes for kids on swimming and other activities. It was a great experience to see where the students we would meet come from. First Day of School for the American Teachers We arrived at the school, and were greeted by our host, the principal, and two students, along with this beautiful board they had created for us. Touring the school grounds took some time, as it is an enormous campus. An interesting thing to note is how the school was built. As you walk the campus, you can see buildings of different materials - some concrete, many are wood. The government built the concrete ones, the PARENTS built the others. Built, painted, found furniture for...the parents did all of that. And the teachers get no supplies. The students bring in all of their own supplies. They also buy their uniforms, which, by the way, were all in great condition and spotless. It was amazing to me, knowing the lack of resources this community has as a whole, that they are able to do and provide so much. It does speak to the importance that the culture places on education. But what that education looks like was very interesting. The first class we were in was on family values. This pseudo-religion class is part of the national curriculum, and was comprised of a lecture with note-taking, copying directly from a book, and answering questions from that same book. There was no thinking, no discussion. But each notebook was beautiful - notes were written in perfect cursive and coded with different color pens. Our host informed us that not all classes are like that - it depends on the teacher. It was just striking to me how the class was the complete opposite of anything I've ever seen in my school in NYC. After that class, we traveled to UGEL 01, the district office that oversaw the school. We were asked to give a workshop for teachers on critical thinking later in the week, and I think they wanted to see what we needed, and also make sure we were competent. After seeing that one class, I started to see why we were asked to present on critical thinking strategies. While there, we experienced teachers protesting outside of the office. In fact, many people from the district office were not there because they were covering for teachers who were on strike. As a teacher and a fan of marginalized groups making their voices heard in general, I assumed I'd be fully supportive of their strike, but it seems they are striking in protest of teacher testing and evaluations. Not that they are unfair, but that they even exist at all. It may be the first time in my life I did not support protesters, but I do think that having qualified teachers is of utmost importance. After that, we returned to the school to work with some students in our host's English class. And to dance with them. Tuesday - the final world cup game So, I don't know if you're aware of this, but soccer is a big deal in most places. Like, a really big deal. Like, THE BIGGEST DEAL. Especially if you're a country that hasn't made it into the World Cup in 36 years. So we were warned that the game on the Tuesday morning that we would be at the school may cause some disruptions to the schedule. It didn't. There was no schedule. Only a large room filled with students watching the game. There was a pile of gym mats in the corner, which many students were sitting on, so I joined them...wearing my Peru World Cup shirt, of course. Favorite moment of the day: When Peru scored and this happened... Sitting with the kids and getting to share in the excitement of that moment was a great experience that I will remember for a long time. And, to be sure, I will be rooting for Peru in the next World Cup...which is probably the next time I'll watch soccer. We also visited two classes that day, a secondary 4 (high school) class and a primary 6, which would be right about the age of my fifth-grade students. The secondary class was interesting to see. The speed with which the teacher gave instructions and the kids produced work was amazing to witness. It was a science class reviewing what they had learned about cell processes. At one point, the teacher said that it was time to make their posters. In an instant, chart paper, pencils, markers, and glue were out. Borders were being cut by one student, while another created the organizer, while two more were filling it in. Something that would take my students a week to do, they had finished in 15 minutes. Every group. Impressive. But here's the thing - all the posters looked exactly alike. And all of their presentations were exactly the same. Every group. They had merely regurgitated what they had been fed. No synthesis. No analysis. No connections. No thinking. But their organization was astounding. The primary class was a fantastic treat for us, and showed some similarities and some differences from the secondary science class. First, they had created a poster to welcome us. This class was giving presentations on their lives. All 11 years. But beyond that, the students were also talking about their goals, and their plans to achieve those goals. We heard from students that are planning on being CEOs, doctors, police officers, architects, and lots and lots of engineers (there are several schools of engineering in and around Lima). AND, many of them made us gifts! Finally, the end of this post:
The first two days showed us a great many things: 1. The students here are organized, efficient, and serious about their educations...something I wish was more prevalent in my classroom. But the classrooms are devoid of any attempts at critical thinking, discussions, students explaining and backing up their statements, challenging each other's thinking and reasons...something I wish was more prevalent in Peru. It is very clear why we were asked to do the workshop. 2. What we had been told about girls being shy, left out of education, tasked with keeping the classroom neat and clean while boys learn and play is not visible in this school. Not to say that it is not an issue, but it is not an issue here. The girls were just as ambitious and hard-working as the boys. The boys played just as large a role in keeping the classrooms neat and organized as the girls. This in no way indicates that gender roles and misogyny are not obstacles for women here, but perhaps because we are in a school that is close to a major city, it is not as overt as I was lead to believe it would be. 3. We were told by some students to go to "El parque de gato." Turns out, the cat park (actually named Kennedy Park) was near our hotel. And it is filled with stray cats. Not THE Stray Cats. Brian Setzer is not there. But there are dozens of cats that just live in the park. I guess they're not really strays, then. 4. Our taxi driver's name is Jose, and he loves listening to disco. It's always on in the car, and he turns the radio up and rocks out when a song he particularly likes comes on. He seems partial to the Bee Gees. I'm hoping that before the end of the week, he will come and pick us up wearing a white suit with a butterfly collar. |