Yes, I’ve finally completed a new blog post...
Me, Friday after school, clearly ready for my weekend off. |
Cafe San Rafael, bless you and the cows from which your cheese is made. |
Yes, this blog post is a great accomplishment, especially considering the number of documents currently cluttering my desktop titled “sadkjfh,” “meeehrrrg” and “blehhskjdfh” or something of that sort, all of which are unfinished blog drafts. None of them feel right. This one won’t either and I’m trying to accept the fact that it's impossible to capture this place in words and pictures. Each time I begin to write, I try to describe everything with the hopes that anyone who cares to read my ramblings will get at least a small, but real, taste of this place. But, eventually, I begin to hate nearly every line I've written because none of it does this place justice. At that point I shut my computer screen and get back to medical work or lesson planning or attend to the cheerful screaming I hear outside of my window (option 3 is my favorite).
So, here it goes… prepare for ramblings, tangents, typos, poor grammar, and mixture of pictures that don't always make sense in
…3…2…1… BLAST OFF (yes, teaching pre-school is getting the best of me)
Job Assignments
Job 1: Medical Program Coordinator or something…
Depending on who you ask, you might hear that I
am the “enfermera”, “doctora” (even though I repeatedly explain that I am not
actually a nurse or a doctor), “encargada de medico” or some of the chiquitos
just yell “UNA CURA, UNA CURA!” (“Band-Aid, Band-Aid!”). This all translates to
me being in charge of the health and medical... everything? I’m still figuring
it all out--stay tuned. So far it has included spending a great deal of time completely
reorganizing and ferociously scrubbing down the medical office (I can thank my
slight OCD for that), learning about the medical program that was built up
tremendously last year thanks to a past volunteer, finding ways to improve the
system, going to doctor appointments with the kids, and being the point person
for any illness or injury that occurs.
When anyone isn’t feeling well, they either: (1) come in during my “office hours” from 6:30-7:30 am and 4:30-5:30 pm or (2) come to me during all hours of the day (this one is more common). Even if I’m in the volunteer house, where the kids are not allowed, they wait at the gate and yell, “Miss Jillian!” until someone responds. At times, the constant flood of people coming to you about a "problem" that is actually nothing, can become slightly annoying. Still, I'm on cloud 9 with this job. I’m especially excited for the opportunity to learn so much more about medical care as I help the children and adults here.
When anyone isn’t feeling well, they either: (1) come in during my “office hours” from 6:30-7:30 am and 4:30-5:30 pm or (2) come to me during all hours of the day (this one is more common). Even if I’m in the volunteer house, where the kids are not allowed, they wait at the gate and yell, “Miss Jillian!” until someone responds. At times, the constant flood of people coming to you about a "problem" that is actually nothing, can become slightly annoying. Still, I'm on cloud 9 with this job. I’m especially excited for the opportunity to learn so much more about medical care as I help the children and adults here.
Thus far there has been a range of injuries from fake crying and no visible injury to the motorcycle accident that occurred a few Sundays ago...
(medical tangent time)...
It was a tad ironic that just the day or two
before, the volunteers and I played a question game revolving around the most
challenging issues for us thus far. At one point we had to choose between “not
feeling qualified for my jobs” and something I can’t even remember at this
point. I did not choose “not feeling qualified” but that’s exactly how I was
feeling this past Sunday morning. I was woken up by one of the boys yelling for
me, exclaiming someone fell off a motorcycle and it was an emergency. I ran
to the front gate of the hogar to find a man (probably in his later 20s) and
woman (around 18-19 years old) on the ground, neither of which I recognized.
They were both beaten up with cuts and such but the worst of the injuries
(unfortunately, but also thankfully) was the man’s knee. It was completely
busted open with large pieces of flesh hanging from the sides, blood oozing down
his leg, and his patella clearly visible. I looked back up to find a few of the adults from
the hogar asking what I thought and what I could do. (At this point I
would have switched my mind to “not feeling qualified” during our question
game). Obviously in the states we call 911 or rush them to the hospital
immediately. Even more obviously, that isn’t an option when you’re sitting on a
bumpy dirt road outside of an hogar in rural Honduras and the closest hospital
to care for these things is over an hour away. Still, my immediate reaction was
to say he needed to be rushed to a doctor. Then, my developing reaction
which takes into consideration what is realistic when living in rural Honduras,
was to run to the medical office for any supplies I thought might help. I ended
up cleaning his knee the best I could with water, covering it with non-stick
gauze, wrapping it, and applying pressure. Luckily, this hogar is filled with
incredible and caring people who continued to help in any way they could. I
cleaned up some of the other cuts while others held umbrellas above the man and
woman, fanned them (especially after the woman fainted more than once), continued to bring
water, etc. After about an hour, a truck with family and friends of the man and
woman arrived and we got him in the bed of the truck as carefully and
comfortably as we could. Initially, some said they would have to amputate.
However, the last we heard, he went in for an operation so hopefully
they will not need to amputate! Please cross your fingers and keep this man and
his family in your thoughts and prayers!
Someone managed to take this picture before I got there. You still can't see all of the damage done beneath his jeans, but it gives some idea of what his knee looked like. |
...(end medical tangent)
Job 2: Assistant Preschool Teacher
Acto Civico at school every Monday
Monday through Friday at around 9:30am I make
this beautiful walk from the hogar side (offices, living
spaces, comedor, etc) to the school.
Once I arrive, I open the classroom door to be
greeted by 8 perfectly crazy, messy chiquitos running wild and one screaming
bloody murder (we are working on it...). The next two hours are some of the
best, and at times the most tiring, hours of my day. Monday through Friday our
kiddos have two hours of class with the Honduran teachers in Spanish followed
by 10 minutes of recess and then another two hours with Rachael (a fellow volunteer and main preschool
teacher) and I in English. As you can imagine, the facial expressions of 3-5
year olds are hilarious when they don’t understand a word of you’re saying.
Still, we’ve come a lonnnnng way since our first class...
(preschool
tangent time…)
Before classes started all of the teachers
participated in “academy,” which is basically a 45-minute practice run of your classes
for the year. When it was time for Rachael and I to begin, we had no clue what
we were about to walk into. We had just observed the Honduran teachers with
them for 45 minutes and they were complete angels. But, apparently in the 10-minute
break before our class, they conspired against us and created plan, “Destroy
The Gringas!” Here’s a small glimpse into those 45 minutes: one kiddo biting my
knee, as another is hitting everyone nearby and trying to jump into my lap,
while I’m simultaneously trying to grab a chair from a different kiddo who is
about to nail another little guy in the head. Yep. When it came time to review
our class at the end of the day, all the other teachers could only say
something along the lines of, “wow, well, uh, you’re both very very patient.” That
day we found out preschool is definitely a marathon, not a race.
(end
preschool tangent…)
By day 2 we managed to get all of our students
into the classroom and by day 4 we only have one regular crier! She’s getting
better every day, though. At least a couple days of every week still begin with her on the ground screaming
as if we are literally torturing her to death. Then about 10 minutes in (3 on a
good day) she puts her arms up for me to carry her. The crying still continues,
of course, but usually goes down to a dull whimper. At first it continued for the entire hour (she only comes for 2 hours instead of
4 because she is 2½) but recently we’ve been making huge leaps! She’s started
to color and dance with me! Granted, we
still have our slipups like our milk fiasco the other week. As she was doing her
usual “repeatedly slam all four limbs against the ground” routine, she managed
to break off the top of her milk cup, sending milk all over her hair, body, the
surrounding area of the room, and my jeans. Apparently throwing milk all over
the room is exhausting because after I cleaned her up she decided it was
nap-time in my arms. The worst part is, I can’t even be upset—I’m incapable of
it. Her cuteness beats out my annoyance or frustration every dang time.
So, that’s just a little insight to my job where
I get to simply play with and love on a bunch of adorable kiddos for a couple
hours every day. J
Movie Friday! |
These are from Día del Niño, or Children's Day, which includes a big celebration of games, food, piñatas, and cake. Here I'm with one of my kiddos. She is amazing. She is arguably the smartest in the class and has an incredible, sneaky sense of humor. Getting to see her personality come out has been such a blessing and I can't wait to continue my journey with her this year.
It's impossible to get a "normal" photo of all the kids together. |
Miss Rachael trying to get them to stop meowing so they can finish the book... |
Job 3: Science Lab Teacher
The school here at Amigos is more complicated
than those in the states. Here, there is BECA (Bilingual Education for Central
America), Educatodos (a Honduran program), a few special education
classes, and kinder (the name for preschool here).
BECA runs from Kindergarten through 4th grade and each year an
additional grade is added. It includes both kids from Amigos and the surrounding neighborhood. These students are taught by BECA volunteers, who are usually
from the States, except for History and Spanish, which are taught by Honduran teachers. I was told that initially there was a stigma against the kids at Amigos. The neighbors refused to send their kids to school with those from an hogar. Now, after a few parents took a chance, there’s
a waitlist for neighbors trying to get their kids into this school. From what I’ve gathered, it is an amazing school, especially when compared to what is typical in Honduras.
Educatodos, on the other hand, is composed solely
of kids from Amigos. There are three levels (niveles): 1, 2, and 3, which are supposed
to align with 1st and 2nd, 3rd and 4th,
and 5th and 6thgrades. This isn’t always the case because it is
much more complicated than that. In level 1, for instance, there are only 6
kids but the ages range from 8-14 and the abilities are equally, if not more, different.
These kids are in Educatodos, rather than BECA, for a variety of reasons. Some
because their behavior got them expelled from BECA, others because they came to
Amigos at a later age without ever going to school, and/or parts of their past has
inhibited their ability to learn at the pace of BECA, etc. These kids have a
special place in my heart. These are the kids I prepare science labs for each
week—one lab a week for each nivel.
There are definitely more difficulties that seem
to come along with teaching Educatodos, rather than BECA. There are days when
they are wonderful, and days when absolutely nothing seems to work.
I’m one of the many US citizens who has a mile long list of
complaints about the United States’ education system. It’ll be very interesting to
see if and how my views change after my time here. The volunteers and I come
back from school everyday and share our moments of joy, laughter, and complete
frustration. Inevitably, we run into similar struggles and together we try to distinguish between what “issues” are just from working with Educatodos students, versus cultural
differences. For instance, the concept of critical thinking is so foreign to
many of them. They know how to copy notes off a board and make them look nice (for the most part...some of level 1 is a different story). This combination gives us a classroom of kids
who relentlessly question for you to give them the answer. I’m sure soon enough
they are going to get tired of my “Yo no se. Usted es muy intelegente. Escribe
que usted piensa.” The other week, one of my favorite
moments was when one of my students in level 1 tried to grab my answer sheet. When I asked what he was doing, he replied very
nonchalantly, “para copiar” as if I would totally understand and hand it over.
It cracked me up.
Additionally, we’ve been warned that oftentimes teachers here in Honduras focus on the appearance of work rather than its accuracy. This was a challenge when we were setting up our interactive lab notebooks together. Multiple students were almost brought to tears when I told them they couldn't start over just because they didn't like the color crayons they used to decorate it. It was hard to not laugh at a 15 year old boy begging me for a new sheet to color.
Amidst all the difficulties with Educatodos, I am extremely excited about these lab classes.
Not only because it’s science and I’m a nerd, but because this is the first time
they are offering a lab class like this. An awesome Honduran teacher gives the science lectures during the week, while I teach lab on Thursdays and Fridays (in Spanish.. yeah, it's entertaining). But the way I see it is I got lucky because I get to be the fun hands-on class and naturally, I get to push them to workout their critical thinking muscles. My creativity is also challenged as I create labs each week with few resources and little space to do them. Being a teacher here is a challenge, and one that I love.
Level 3 lab. Competition to see who can make an animal cell with the food provided and best explain the function of each part. |
Making Interactive Lab Notebooks |
One of my very lovable yet challenging level 1 students. |
Side Jobs:
Aside from medical and teaching, we all have
random side jobs, which continue to pop-up along the way. Every Monday I
attend a padrino/madrina meeting or I babysit the 15-20 children who come home
from school early (preschool, kinder, and special ed). This is followed by tutoring a few middle/high school boys in English for 2.5 hours. We also fill in
wherever we are needed such as “field trips” like the other weekend when I got to go
with one of the boy dorms to the movie theater in San Pedro Sula.
And here's a few random photos...
I was told early on that this place is a place of miracles. Each day I understand more and more what that means and how accurate that is. |
This little man. He's a wild one and he'll steal your heart so fast. |
The little guys love to draw car tracks in the dirt and play with their carritos |
This little munchkin again. It's nance season so the kids are constantly running around gathering nances in any container they can find. |
When the rat infestation is getting to you, just call in the jovenes... they helped us kill a couple but we are now up to 7 dead!! |
The calm before the storm of Monday afternoon babysitting :) |
The back of the volunteer (middle and top levels) and visitor's (bottom level) house. This used to be the chapel.. note the cross at the top |
Life's hard in the medical office when you're vertically challenged and want some water... |
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