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
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