Last weekend I got to do something that I've been wanting to do since arriving in Ecuador in January (side note: Can we believe that I've been here for almost 15 weeks?! NO!) - see cows! What a wonderful experience. Both educational and humbling at the same time. I went with Diego, his wife Maria Inez (Marinez for short), and their good friend Carmen who owns the hacienda that we stayed at. Haciendas are farms here, and they consist of acres and acres of pasture land where the cows graze all day long. The haciendas used to be a lot bigger than they are now, owned by one person. As time went on, the property got divided up, so it is the same area, but many different owners.
On Saturday morning, Diego and Marinez picked me up, and we were on our way. The hacienda was about a 2 hour car ride away, near a town called Latacunga. As we drove further from the city, the land got greener and greener, and there were cows everywhere. When I say everywhere, I mean on the side of the HIGHWAY. It still baffles me how there are not tons of dead cows on the side of the road. We stopped at a cafe called "Cafe de la vaca" - Cow Cafe! It used to be an old barn, and the owners changed it into a restaurant that is apparently very successful. So successful that there was a 45 minute wait for breakfast, so we just kept driving after Diego took pictures of me next to the signs and cow paintings :) I'll get those up as soon as I get them from Diego! Diego and his wife, by the way, told me that while I'm in Ecuador they are going to adopt me so that I can see more of the country :)
When we got to the hacienda, Carmen was already there, and I was ready to take a tour! The day was chilly - sweatshirt and fleece - but still enjoyable. The haciendas here are very similar to the haciendas that I saw in Mexico in the summer of 2008 (shout-out to Jess, Trav, and all members of the Gold Van!). This specific hacienda milks about 60 cows. They have 3 milking machines, and it takes them about 2 hours to milk all of the cows. The cows are fed corn while they are milked, and then grazed all day. And they are often fed... BROCCOLI! I couldn't believe it! The hacienda is right near a broccoli plant, so there is a surplus of broccoli in the area. How odd!
As we were walking through the pasture, I noticed a heifer (she looked about the size of a winter calf, for those of you that can relate) that had a stump of wood hanging from it's neck. The stump was large enough that I could see that the heifer would not be able to lift her head all the way up if she wanted to. Upon asking why this poor heifer had a block of wood hanging around her neck, I learned that this is how they wean their heifers. Since all ages of animals are grazed together, it's hard to wean the calves, so they tie this block of wood around their necks so that the calves can't reach up to the cows' udders and are forced to eat the grass. Seems a bit cruel, but it works. In all honesty, I was thinking about what PETA would have to say about that...
Another thing that I noticed was that wherever there is grass, there are cows - the side of the highway, a spot between two houses, in TOWN, seriously, EVERYWHERE. The cows have a rope around their neck, some slack (probably about a 9 foot radius), and the other end of the rope is nailed into the ground. When the cows eat their way around their circle, they are moved. When they are moved, they are herded along the roads in groups as small as 1 cow to a group as large as 10. So interesting how everything is operated down here.
I say that my hacienda experience was humbling, because you never seem to realize what you have until you see what others have. In the United States, the farms that are so typical here don't exist. They are the farms of our grandfathers, really. I noticed that the cows here are so THIN, and in the US, they would be considered malnourished, as well as the calves. If an average American cow stood next to the same age average Ecuadorian cow, there would be such a vast difference between the two. I have no doubt that many people would have been seriously concerned about the nourishment of the cattle here, but it works for them.
The Ecuadorians take such pride in what they have, that you can't help but appreciate it too. Things are so simple - instead of the super-sanitary milking-prep that we have (wipe, dip, wait 45 seconds, strip, re-wipe, hang the unit), they wipe the dirt of the cows udders, and just milk them. The workers have an intimate relationship with each animal, because they are constantly working with them - herding them, milking them, feeding them - unlike the impersonal relationship that is found more and more in the US (Shout out to the people that have small farms - I love you all). All in all, it was a wonderful experience, and I'm excited to be able to go and spend another weekend in the country.
In other news, when I came back from Easter vacation, I started tutoring at an institute called EIL (where I took my TESOL course). I tutor a 9 year old boy named Edison. I take the teacher bus to the last stop, hop on a city bus (one time, I fell OFF the bus when I had to JUMP off while it was MOVING and limped away with a hole in my pants and a bloody knee and palm... THAT was embarrassing), and get off a couple blocks away from EIL. On my way, I'm STARVING, so I stop at this little place and get an empanada. I LOVE the empanadas here! Anyways, so the man that owns the place is always there, and whenever I ask him for my empanada, he says "Anything for the princess!" with a huge smile on his face, like there is nothing in the world that makes him happier than giving me my empanada. Now THAT is customer service. And for 90 cents? Oh MAN. Totally worth it.
Now Edison is a chubby little guy, who just makes me laugh and laugh. His English is better than that of some of my thirteen year olds. But the thing that kills me the most is that instead of saying "fun" he always says "funny". I've noticed that a lot of ESL Ecuadorians do this, but Edison is the best. "Sara, my friend, paintball is so fuuuuuuuuuuunny." Paintball, is actually not funny. Neither is the Tower of Terror in Disney World. But to him, oh yes, these things are funny :) And when he doesn't like what I tell him to do (giving him a 6 letter word in hangman for example), he says "Sara, my friend, you are baaaaaaaaaaaad." And THAT is FUNNY. Whenever he says my name, he adds "my friend" after it, and it just makes me want to hug him. What a kid. And what a NAME.
Until next time,
Sara the princess
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
"She thinks your birthmark is lip gloss."
Last Saturday when I had to go into school, I found out when I got there that surprise! I had to do parent/teacher conferences!!! I immediately started sweating profusely, and I'm pretty sure my face got pale. Especially since the guy who told me said "Uh... You won't be in the room by yourself. You'll be with all the English teachers! You'll do great!!!!" super enthusiastically. Guess who was the only English teacher that showed up (imagine me raising my hand). Perfect.
I sit in my assigned room, still sweating despite the 50 degree weather, when in comes my first parent. I was mostly nervous about getting yelled at for being mean or something, but I was almost equally nervous about having to speak only Spanish. The morning went MUCH better than I thought: 3 parents out of 60 students came, the good Lord gave my tongue the ability to roll my r's and my mouth the ability to move like I wasn't nervous at all, and I got internet access in the room I was in, so I was able to gchat while waiting for an hour between parents. The parents that came told me that their kids REALLY liked me (WOW REALLY!?! I was thrilled.), and that they would like me to give their kids private English lessons. I start next week Saturday. Two students are coming to my house, and I have to take a bus (I'm already trying to brainstorm when I'll be able to do a test run of THAT trip) to the other house. I'm sure that it will be quite the adventure, but I'm looking forward to it. The tutoring part, I mean. NOT the bus ride. Shoot, I get nervous just thinking about it!
Last Sunday, I spent the day with my host family. Not just my host mom and sister, but the WHOLE fam. Grandma! ("Sarita, you've gotten taller since you've been in the United States!" My response? "I think it's the water there.") I went to church with Lupe and Pamela, and then we met with Grandma, dear Aunt Rosy, another aunt and uncle set, and cute little Sophie's (the 3 year old who wants beautiful blonde hair just like mine) family. Sophie saw me, ran up to me, put her hands on my face, and exclaimed, "OOH my American friend! How I have missed you!" Thanks, Soph, I've missed your cute little face too. She grabbed my hand and made me sit by her for lunch.
As we're sitting waiting for our food, Sophie feels the need to introduce me to everyone at the table, despite the fact that I've met all of them and spent several Sunday Funday Family Days with them.
Sophie: Everyone! I would like to introduce you to my American friend.... *whispering in my ear* What is your name, my American friend?
Sara: *whispering* Sara.
Sophie: Oh yes! I would like to introduce you to my American friend Saraaaaaaaa!!!!!
Alright, so now that I'm acquainted with everyone and my face is red (Really Sara? A 3 year old is going to make you blush? Thanks for the genes, Mom and Dad.), Sophie is telling me the English that she knows: "Hello! Hola! Please! Por favor!! Goodbye! Gracias!" Ummmm, Sophie? Gracias means thank you. I tell her this politely, kind of in a jokey way. Her response? "No, my American friend, I know English, and goodbye means gracias." Okay Sophie, you win that one.
A little while later, STILL waiting for our food, Sophie takes my left hand. If you are unaware, I have a birthmark on the top of my left hand between my thumb and pointer finger. It is shaped in an almost perfect circle, and it is red. So, Sophie takes my hand, and starts rubbing my birthmark on her lips. I had NO CLUE what was going on. I THOUGHT I understood what she was saying, but it didn't make ANY sense, so I just sat there looking like an idiot as this three year old is rubbing my hand on her lips. Uncle Juanito (who so kindly paid for my lunch) looked at me. "Sarita, she thinks that your birthmark is lip gloss." Well, at least I know that I was understanding her correctly! What a stupid girl - why would I have lip gloss on the top of my hand? So, I immediately snatch my hand away and ignore Sophie - my Ecuadorian friend - for the rest of the day. Just kidding, but my face DID get red again.
Later we went to my host mom's son's house because it was his 43rd birthday. The WHOLE family was there, but I had a rather enjoyable time because A. I hadn't seen these people (who for the first 6 weeks I spent EVERY weekend with) for a month and a half, and B. because I have a job now and I actually have things to talk about. Everyone was really proud of how successful I have been here. Successful? How about lucky - everything seriously fell right into my lap. I made it sound like I'm successful because I'm such a hard worker. HA. They'll never know...
The school week went very quickly because surprise! I found out on Monday that I didn't have school on Tuesday because it was National Teacher's Day! Woooo! The school gave all of the teachers a gift. Bedsheets. Not kidding. On Monday afternoon, the novenos had a surprise party for all of the noveno teachers (I've never been so happy to have to teach those little pistols!), and so I got to eat chips and drink Coke and socialize with Franklin for the last two hours of school while I should have been teaching. Yes, despite his name, he is Ecuadorian. Seriously, the American names just KILL me down here (George, Franklin, Norman, Abraham, BERTHA, Gilbert... It just goes on and on).
Tomorrow I'm going with one of the teachers from the school named Diego (the one who loves Lake Geneva!) to see some of the farms in Ecuador. I'm really excited about it. Mom and Dad? After so much uncertainty about what major to declare in college I seem to have chosen the right one(s). Living in the middle of a large city (estimated population 1.48 million as of 2003 - thanks Wikipedia), I've found that I really miss the dairy industry, and I am excited to return to it when I move back to the US. I'm sorry that I had to move 3000 miles away to realize it :)
Until next time,
Sara the American friend
I sit in my assigned room, still sweating despite the 50 degree weather, when in comes my first parent. I was mostly nervous about getting yelled at for being mean or something, but I was almost equally nervous about having to speak only Spanish. The morning went MUCH better than I thought: 3 parents out of 60 students came, the good Lord gave my tongue the ability to roll my r's and my mouth the ability to move like I wasn't nervous at all, and I got internet access in the room I was in, so I was able to gchat while waiting for an hour between parents. The parents that came told me that their kids REALLY liked me (WOW REALLY!?! I was thrilled.), and that they would like me to give their kids private English lessons. I start next week Saturday. Two students are coming to my house, and I have to take a bus (I'm already trying to brainstorm when I'll be able to do a test run of THAT trip) to the other house. I'm sure that it will be quite the adventure, but I'm looking forward to it. The tutoring part, I mean. NOT the bus ride. Shoot, I get nervous just thinking about it!
Last Sunday, I spent the day with my host family. Not just my host mom and sister, but the WHOLE fam. Grandma! ("Sarita, you've gotten taller since you've been in the United States!" My response? "I think it's the water there.") I went to church with Lupe and Pamela, and then we met with Grandma, dear Aunt Rosy, another aunt and uncle set, and cute little Sophie's (the 3 year old who wants beautiful blonde hair just like mine) family. Sophie saw me, ran up to me, put her hands on my face, and exclaimed, "OOH my American friend! How I have missed you!" Thanks, Soph, I've missed your cute little face too. She grabbed my hand and made me sit by her for lunch.
As we're sitting waiting for our food, Sophie feels the need to introduce me to everyone at the table, despite the fact that I've met all of them and spent several Sunday Funday Family Days with them.
Sophie: Everyone! I would like to introduce you to my American friend.... *whispering in my ear* What is your name, my American friend?
Sara: *whispering* Sara.
Sophie: Oh yes! I would like to introduce you to my American friend Saraaaaaaaa!!!!!
Alright, so now that I'm acquainted with everyone and my face is red (Really Sara? A 3 year old is going to make you blush? Thanks for the genes, Mom and Dad.), Sophie is telling me the English that she knows: "Hello! Hola! Please! Por favor!! Goodbye! Gracias!" Ummmm, Sophie? Gracias means thank you. I tell her this politely, kind of in a jokey way. Her response? "No, my American friend, I know English, and goodbye means gracias." Okay Sophie, you win that one.
A little while later, STILL waiting for our food, Sophie takes my left hand. If you are unaware, I have a birthmark on the top of my left hand between my thumb and pointer finger. It is shaped in an almost perfect circle, and it is red. So, Sophie takes my hand, and starts rubbing my birthmark on her lips. I had NO CLUE what was going on. I THOUGHT I understood what she was saying, but it didn't make ANY sense, so I just sat there looking like an idiot as this three year old is rubbing my hand on her lips. Uncle Juanito (who so kindly paid for my lunch) looked at me. "Sarita, she thinks that your birthmark is lip gloss." Well, at least I know that I was understanding her correctly! What a stupid girl - why would I have lip gloss on the top of my hand? So, I immediately snatch my hand away and ignore Sophie - my Ecuadorian friend - for the rest of the day. Just kidding, but my face DID get red again.
Later we went to my host mom's son's house because it was his 43rd birthday. The WHOLE family was there, but I had a rather enjoyable time because A. I hadn't seen these people (who for the first 6 weeks I spent EVERY weekend with) for a month and a half, and B. because I have a job now and I actually have things to talk about. Everyone was really proud of how successful I have been here. Successful? How about lucky - everything seriously fell right into my lap. I made it sound like I'm successful because I'm such a hard worker. HA. They'll never know...
The school week went very quickly because surprise! I found out on Monday that I didn't have school on Tuesday because it was National Teacher's Day! Woooo! The school gave all of the teachers a gift. Bedsheets. Not kidding. On Monday afternoon, the novenos had a surprise party for all of the noveno teachers (I've never been so happy to have to teach those little pistols!), and so I got to eat chips and drink Coke and socialize with Franklin for the last two hours of school while I should have been teaching. Yes, despite his name, he is Ecuadorian. Seriously, the American names just KILL me down here (George, Franklin, Norman, Abraham, BERTHA, Gilbert... It just goes on and on).
Tomorrow I'm going with one of the teachers from the school named Diego (the one who loves Lake Geneva!) to see some of the farms in Ecuador. I'm really excited about it. Mom and Dad? After so much uncertainty about what major to declare in college I seem to have chosen the right one(s). Living in the middle of a large city (estimated population 1.48 million as of 2003 - thanks Wikipedia), I've found that I really miss the dairy industry, and I am excited to return to it when I move back to the US. I'm sorry that I had to move 3000 miles away to realize it :)
Until next time,
Sara the American friend
Friday, April 9, 2010
"Mateo, you DO look like Chewbacca!"
This week was very, very nice because I only had to actually teach for 3.5 days, so it was a nice transition back to Ecuador. On Monday, we had "juntas". Basically, all of the teachers of each grade get together in a classroom and talk about the students - grades, discipline, etc. My grade didn't start until 1PM, so all morning I was BORED out of my MIND, and when my meetings finally came, I said maybe 2 words. Great.
My kids are getting pretty funny. Mateo is a student who talks ALL THE TIME, but he is always talking in English, so I let him. Another reason I let him is because the things that come out of this boy's mouth!! He sits right in the front row up by my desk, so I get to hear it all. The class that Mateo is in is composed of 12 boys and 8 girls - 9A. It's fun... Anyways, they all tattle on each other ALL the time, and it's gotten a little out of hand, so I don't actually know when someone actually does something or not. The other day, Mateo - the KING of Tattle Tales - comes up to me.
Mateo: Teacher! Teacher!! Ricardo called me I look like Chewbacca!
Sara: Mateo, you DO look like Chewbacca!!!
This got a laugh out of the class, and then Mateo was doing the PERFECT Chewbacca impression. It was SO funny, and it is HARD to hold back the laughter with these students!!
Later, on the same day, I was on hallway duty during the breaks. This means that I stand at the top of the stairs on the second floor and make sure that no one comes up during the breaks. It really does suck; half of the students beg me to let them up and I just have to tell them no. I had just denied access to a group of 9A boys, so they were standing on the landing just out of my sight (I could only see their legs), but they knew I was there. Mateo, unaware of my presence, came up the first flight of stairs to where the boys were and said "What's up bitchesssssssssssssss". So I, having heard this, yell, "MATEO!!!" And show myself. His face got ALL red, the boys were on the ground laughing, and, always ready for a comment, Mateo says to me, "But Teacher, I am practicing my English!" Nice try, Mateo. But of course, that made me laugh. What a kid.
Yesterday I found out that surprise! The kids leave at 10:30 on Friday (today), and at 1 there will be a lunch hosted by the parents for the teachers in celebration of Teacher's day on Tuesday. Hurray! BUT. At 11 there was going to be a two hour presentation by the police about I don't even know what. Great. So, at 1030, I make my way to my boss's (John's) office to ask him where I'm supposed to go.
I get to his office, and he says, "Sara, are you a fast typer? Sit down. I'm going to dictate to you, and you type this. Fast." Ummm, ok. So I type this letter for him, we print it off 4 different times before we get it on the school's letterhead right, and he says, "Ok, well, I guess we should go to this meeting. I'm going to fall asleep, so we're going to sit near the back." And he ushers me out of his office.
Someone tells us to go downstairs, so we go, and nope, this isn't the right place - it was all set up for our nice lunch. John has no idea where we're supposed to go. We stand around for a few minutes, chat with a few teachers, and then John says, "Come on, we're going back to my office. I've got shit to do, and you can just sit there." Ummm, sounds GREAT to me! We're about to round the corner, and we see the principal. John: "Oh SHIT. Hurry." And he takes of a different way towards his office. I have no choice but to follow - I don't want to get in trouble! I was practically running (not an exaggeration), and when we got to his office, John shut the door and said, "Keep a lookout, we can't get caught!" I like this guy.
As we're talking in his office, John and I are talking about states that "are never in the news". Like Arkansas - which John was pronouncing Arkan-SAS, pronouncing it like it's spelled. I about peed my pants, because at first I thought he was joking, but then he kept saying it so I said, "John, it's Arkan-SAW" And he started laughing and then asking me if there was a state called Kansas, asking me where Kansas City was, etc. John moved to the US with his family when he was 2, and lived there until he was 20, so he's VERY Americanized.
As John was printing things off, I'm talking to him, and he starts asking me questions. Do you have a blog? Should I set one up? People ask me if I have a blog, I don't even know what it is. How do I let people know I have this blog?
Since I'm such an EXPERT in the blogging world (what a joke), I answered his questions and showed him my blog. Then, we set one up for him. He wants it to be a blog where he can talk about his "professional teaching experiences" and things like that. He's pretty well-known in the teaching world here, so if he can figure it out, it should be pretty beneficial. He decides to send a mass email letting people know about his blog:
Hi all
This is my blog: http://theloveforteachingenglish.blogspot.com
I want to keep in touch with you all.
Take care
Wow, John, so heartfelt. At first he just put the first two lines, and I was like, ummm no. Tell them WHY you have a blog or something. So he adds the second two lines. At first he had words like "wanna" and "y'all" and I nixed that idea right away (John, you grew up in New York, not Arkansas).
At 1, John and I decided to go downstairs and join everyone else for lunch. When we arrive, we find everyone standing around, and the parents tell us that oh, sorry, but lunch will be at 2. John flips. I laugh. We also find out that tomorrow the teachers have to go to school to give report cards to the parents. Go to school on a SATURDAY? BOOOOOOOOO. Everyone was pretty furious. Anyways, John decides that he's going to leave early and not go to this lunch, because he doesn't want to sit around, and he has to leave at 2:30 anyways, and in Ecuadorian time, we wouldn't actually EAT until about 3 ("Such a shame, the Ecuadorian's sense of time" as my friend Diego puts it). I ask if I can catch a ride home. Sure.
I run upstairs and get my things, and meet John in his office. We have to sneak out. Is this a joke? George was in the office too, but he wasn't leaving. John tells me to go this way then that way to get out of the school unseen. I have no idea where he is directing me, but John has an idea: George will escort me out. I was laughing SO hard, because George was SO awkward about it. He was seriously acting like we were on a secret mission, and it just killed me. We went out through the doctor's office, and as I went through she whispered "I won't tell!" What a pal!
With George as my lookout (a SLOW lookout at that... He was trying to be all nonchalant and looking cool and calm, but it was really SLOW), I run past the principal's office window, duck below the owner's office window (who is my neighbor... oopsie), and literally run out the front doors. I jump in John's car, and he sits down and says "What TOOK you so long, I was ready to LEAVE! I had to dodge the PRINCIPAL!!" I laugh, and he sits down in his car, and says, "Oh shit, where are my keys." So we're looking all over, I'm starting to sweat because A. It was hot, and B. I didn't want to get yelled at! John finds his keys, and off we go.
I got home, made lunch, and took a little nappy. What a wonderful Friday :)
Until next time,
Sara the Sneak
My kids are getting pretty funny. Mateo is a student who talks ALL THE TIME, but he is always talking in English, so I let him. Another reason I let him is because the things that come out of this boy's mouth!! He sits right in the front row up by my desk, so I get to hear it all. The class that Mateo is in is composed of 12 boys and 8 girls - 9A. It's fun... Anyways, they all tattle on each other ALL the time, and it's gotten a little out of hand, so I don't actually know when someone actually does something or not. The other day, Mateo - the KING of Tattle Tales - comes up to me.
Mateo: Teacher! Teacher!! Ricardo called me I look like Chewbacca!
Sara: Mateo, you DO look like Chewbacca!!!
This got a laugh out of the class, and then Mateo was doing the PERFECT Chewbacca impression. It was SO funny, and it is HARD to hold back the laughter with these students!!
Later, on the same day, I was on hallway duty during the breaks. This means that I stand at the top of the stairs on the second floor and make sure that no one comes up during the breaks. It really does suck; half of the students beg me to let them up and I just have to tell them no. I had just denied access to a group of 9A boys, so they were standing on the landing just out of my sight (I could only see their legs), but they knew I was there. Mateo, unaware of my presence, came up the first flight of stairs to where the boys were and said "What's up bitchesssssssssssssss". So I, having heard this, yell, "MATEO!!!" And show myself. His face got ALL red, the boys were on the ground laughing, and, always ready for a comment, Mateo says to me, "But Teacher, I am practicing my English!" Nice try, Mateo. But of course, that made me laugh. What a kid.
Yesterday I found out that surprise! The kids leave at 10:30 on Friday (today), and at 1 there will be a lunch hosted by the parents for the teachers in celebration of Teacher's day on Tuesday. Hurray! BUT. At 11 there was going to be a two hour presentation by the police about I don't even know what. Great. So, at 1030, I make my way to my boss's (John's) office to ask him where I'm supposed to go.
I get to his office, and he says, "Sara, are you a fast typer? Sit down. I'm going to dictate to you, and you type this. Fast." Ummm, ok. So I type this letter for him, we print it off 4 different times before we get it on the school's letterhead right, and he says, "Ok, well, I guess we should go to this meeting. I'm going to fall asleep, so we're going to sit near the back." And he ushers me out of his office.
Someone tells us to go downstairs, so we go, and nope, this isn't the right place - it was all set up for our nice lunch. John has no idea where we're supposed to go. We stand around for a few minutes, chat with a few teachers, and then John says, "Come on, we're going back to my office. I've got shit to do, and you can just sit there." Ummm, sounds GREAT to me! We're about to round the corner, and we see the principal. John: "Oh SHIT. Hurry." And he takes of a different way towards his office. I have no choice but to follow - I don't want to get in trouble! I was practically running (not an exaggeration), and when we got to his office, John shut the door and said, "Keep a lookout, we can't get caught!" I like this guy.
As we're talking in his office, John and I are talking about states that "are never in the news". Like Arkansas - which John was pronouncing Arkan-SAS, pronouncing it like it's spelled. I about peed my pants, because at first I thought he was joking, but then he kept saying it so I said, "John, it's Arkan-SAW" And he started laughing and then asking me if there was a state called Kansas, asking me where Kansas City was, etc. John moved to the US with his family when he was 2, and lived there until he was 20, so he's VERY Americanized.
As John was printing things off, I'm talking to him, and he starts asking me questions. Do you have a blog? Should I set one up? People ask me if I have a blog, I don't even know what it is. How do I let people know I have this blog?
Since I'm such an EXPERT in the blogging world (what a joke), I answered his questions and showed him my blog. Then, we set one up for him. He wants it to be a blog where he can talk about his "professional teaching experiences" and things like that. He's pretty well-known in the teaching world here, so if he can figure it out, it should be pretty beneficial. He decides to send a mass email letting people know about his blog:
Hi all
This is my blog: http://theloveforteachingenglish.blogspot.com
I want to keep in touch with you all.
Take care
Wow, John, so heartfelt. At first he just put the first two lines, and I was like, ummm no. Tell them WHY you have a blog or something. So he adds the second two lines. At first he had words like "wanna" and "y'all" and I nixed that idea right away (John, you grew up in New York, not Arkansas).
At 1, John and I decided to go downstairs and join everyone else for lunch. When we arrive, we find everyone standing around, and the parents tell us that oh, sorry, but lunch will be at 2. John flips. I laugh. We also find out that tomorrow the teachers have to go to school to give report cards to the parents. Go to school on a SATURDAY? BOOOOOOOOO. Everyone was pretty furious. Anyways, John decides that he's going to leave early and not go to this lunch, because he doesn't want to sit around, and he has to leave at 2:30 anyways, and in Ecuadorian time, we wouldn't actually EAT until about 3 ("Such a shame, the Ecuadorian's sense of time" as my friend Diego puts it). I ask if I can catch a ride home. Sure.
I run upstairs and get my things, and meet John in his office. We have to sneak out. Is this a joke? George was in the office too, but he wasn't leaving. John tells me to go this way then that way to get out of the school unseen. I have no idea where he is directing me, but John has an idea: George will escort me out. I was laughing SO hard, because George was SO awkward about it. He was seriously acting like we were on a secret mission, and it just killed me. We went out through the doctor's office, and as I went through she whispered "I won't tell!" What a pal!
With George as my lookout (a SLOW lookout at that... He was trying to be all nonchalant and looking cool and calm, but it was really SLOW), I run past the principal's office window, duck below the owner's office window (who is my neighbor... oopsie), and literally run out the front doors. I jump in John's car, and he sits down and says "What TOOK you so long, I was ready to LEAVE! I had to dodge the PRINCIPAL!!" I laugh, and he sits down in his car, and says, "Oh shit, where are my keys." So we're looking all over, I'm starting to sweat because A. It was hot, and B. I didn't want to get yelled at! John finds his keys, and off we go.
I got home, made lunch, and took a little nappy. What a wonderful Friday :)
Until next time,
Sara the Sneak
Monday, April 5, 2010
"What the hell are you doing here?!?!"
As some of you know and some of you don't, for my Easter break I flew home to Wisconsin to surprise everyone. It was my overly generous mom's idea and doing actually, so many many thanks to her! She decided that it would be fun if we kept it a secret and didn't tell anyone, even my dad, that I was coming home. Peter was the only one other than my mom and myself that knew - someone had to pick me up from the airport!
On Friday the 26th, I took an overnight flight back home to the US. During the week I sent my mom email after email (MOM I need a haircut appointment; MOM order me more L'Bri; MOM this and MOM that), and after a week of NO replies, I get an email that says, "Leave me alone." Love you too, Mom. I also sent my itinerary to Peter a million times to ensure that he would know when to pick me up. I was pretty paranoid because I was pretty sure my US phone wouldn't work (it didn't), and airport pick-ups are HARD these days if one party doesn't have a phone. I don't know HOW people did it in the olden days. Thank goodness I had my Kindle and was able to send a quick email re-giving my flight information telling him that I would meet him at the baggage claim.
My flight arrived from Atlanta (where I went through customs) 15 minutes early. I made friends with the guy sitting next to me on the flight, and he let me use his phone to call Peter. As I'm sitting on the plane, I leave a super enthusiastic message: "HI PETER! It's Sara, but I'm calling from someone else's phone! Our plane just landed!! I'm on the Delta flight 5054 from ATLANTA!! So I'll meet you at the baggage claim!!! I'm so excited to see you!" Damien, my new friend, told me that I could use his phone again when we got our bags. What a nice guy!
We get to the baggage claim, and I'm expecting my bag to come out LAST, as usual, but of COURSE, the one time I actually need a little time, my bag is the first one off the conveyor belt. I waited with Damien as he got his bags, and then I used his phone again. This message was less enthusiastic. "Hi Peter, it's Sara again. I'm getting a little nervous that you're not answering your phone again. I got my bags, and I'm waiting at the Delta baggage claim - flight 5054 from Atlanta. I'll see you really soon!" I really was getting nervous about him not answering his phone, because he's one of those people who always has his phone, so of course I'm jumping to the most extreme conclusions: Oh my gosh, he's been in a horrible car accident. Oh my gosh, he slept through his alarm. Oh my gosh, he forgot about me.
I was standing by the baggage claim, getting a sore neck from turning my head from side to side so much. I lean against the wall. I watch the airport men take the unclaimed baggage off the conveyor. I'm beginning to brainstorm ways that I can ask a stranger to use their cell phone. An hour later, I am near tears, and I decide to sit down. A woman sitting next to me with the CUTEST kids ever asked me to watch their bags so that she could take the kids to the bathroom (I'm guessing the boy was 4 and the girl was 2). Perfect. My in. When she comes back, I ask her if I can use her cell phone. Of course I can!!! "Heyyyyyyy Peter, I'm getting REALLY worried about you. I'm sitting now between A and B, so please come find me. Ok... Bye..." I hang up the phone and call my mom. And start crying (so much for staying strong).
Sara: MOM (sniffle sniffle), Peter isn't here yet, I'm sitting by myself, and I'm really worried about him. What am I supposed to do?!?!
Mom: Sara? Who's phone are you calling from?
Sara: The nice lady sitting next to me. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO (gasp-sniffle-gasp)??
Mom: Calm down. Mr. Romenesko called me, and Peter left at 9 (it's 10:45AM at this time). He forgot his cell phone but-
Sara: WHAT?! HOW COULD HE FORGET HIS PHONE (gasp gasp and crying harder)?? I'M GOING TO KILL HIM.
Mom: Calm down, Sara. He has Corbin's phone. Just drink some water, and he'll be there soon, I promise.
Sara: BUT MOM I DON'T KNOW CORBIN'S PHONE NUMBER.
Mom: Sara. You. Are. Fine. He will be there.
Sara: Ok, bye. *hang up*
My thoughts at this moment in time: I am SO mad. I'm not even going to TALK to Peter when I see him. I'm just going to GET in the car, and GO to sleep. When we get to his house, I'm going to eat lunch with his parents, and then I'm going to go to SLEEP, and not even LOOK at him. *Yes, I apologized for these thoughts later.
Trying to compose myself, I give the woman her phone back. Her son, the 4ish year old, puts his hand on my knee and says, "What's taking Peter so long?" AWWWWWWWW Thank goodness I had these two little cuties to distract me. I'm not crying any more, but anytime I think about my situation and how I'll never be getting home, I get teared up. I see a man. Peter?!?! No, an Asian. I see another man. PETER??!? No, an old grandpa with a cane. My eyes were REALLY deceiving me.
Another hour later (11:45AM), I'm trying to work up the courage to ask the nice woman to use her phone again so that I can call my mom. I look around ONE MORE TIME, and I FINALLY see Peter walking towards me. I grab my bags, and I say (not nicely - which I DID feel bad about later) "Peter. PETER." in a dull, monotone voice. He hugs me (I looked HORRIBLE, by the way), and says, "I'm so sorry. How are you?" And I, being the kind, gentle, subtle person that I am, say, "I'm mad. Can we just go to the car?"
As we're walking, I decide to talk to him and get his side of the story. He forgot his phone. Not horrible. He stopped at the hardware store to pick up his brother's phone, so he would at least have one. He calls his house, and tells his dad to answer the phone if it rings. Mr. Romenesko doesn't. He calls the house later and tells his dad to check his messages. Three are from me. Mr. R tells Peter "Sara's worried." I'm so glad he picked up on my tone... Mr. R tells Peter that I'm at the international terminal. This is the killer. Peter got to the airport right on time, but was in the wrong spot.
At this time, I'm feeling REALLY bad about being so mean, especially because Peter was SO nice and even brought me a St. Norbert sweatshirt so that I could change out of my overnight flying clothes. We get in the car. He turns it on. THE HOOD STARTS SMOKING. I turn into mean Sara again - "Well, Peter, the good news is that Jenna and Mark live 20 minutes away. The BAD news is that if we have to CALL them the WHOLE SURPRISE IS RUINED." Smooth. Peter pops the hood, and we need to stop at a gas station. We'll make it home ok... He thinks.
When we get to his house, I eat lunch with the Romeneskos while Mr. R takes a look at Peter's car. He comes in the house and says, "Let me tell you, you two are REALLY lucky you made it home." Greeeeeeeeeeeeeeeat. I took a nap for the rest of the afternoon. The surprise was at 6:30PM at my house. My whole mom's side of the family was there. No one knew I was coming home except Mom.
Peter walks in the door first, and all of my sisters do an awkward "Peterrrr... Hiiiii" kind of that what-are-you-doing-here hi. Then, I walk in. My dad was the first one to see me, and he looks at me and says, "What the hell are you doing here?!?!?" Love you too, Dad. The next thing he says (no, 'I love you Sara!' or 'I've missed you sooooooo much you're my favorite daughter!') is, "WHY didn't IIIIII know you were coming home?" Dad. No one knew. Relax. Dinner was amazing (ALL AMERICAN FOOD IS AMAZING, I've come to find), and the rest of the night went VERY smoothly, despite my morning...
It was a wonderful trip home, and I arrived back in Quito around 10PM Easter Sunday night. I hopped in a cab (after being told it would be $10 dollars to get home, I said NO, and then settled for 5 when it SHOULD have been 2), and arrive at my house, which got FURNISHED while I was away, so now I have a kitchen table and COUCHES!! I go up to my room to find the door is locked. LOCKED. I emptied my entire suitcase on the landing floor looking for the stupid key, and of COURSE I don't find it. 33 minutes and 7 bobby pins later I picked the lock. I was sweating, swearing, and MAD by the time I get into my room. I shoved my clothes in my room, and fell asleep in my bed.
When I woke up this morning, AWESOME - there's no hot water!!! So I look HORRIBLE today with a day's worth of travel-grime on my body. At least I don't have to teach today. We're having kind of like a teacher's in-service, but it's mostly meetings where we talk about the students.
Until next time,
Sara the lock-picker.
On Friday the 26th, I took an overnight flight back home to the US. During the week I sent my mom email after email (MOM I need a haircut appointment; MOM order me more L'Bri; MOM this and MOM that), and after a week of NO replies, I get an email that says, "Leave me alone." Love you too, Mom. I also sent my itinerary to Peter a million times to ensure that he would know when to pick me up. I was pretty paranoid because I was pretty sure my US phone wouldn't work (it didn't), and airport pick-ups are HARD these days if one party doesn't have a phone. I don't know HOW people did it in the olden days. Thank goodness I had my Kindle and was able to send a quick email re-giving my flight information telling him that I would meet him at the baggage claim.
My flight arrived from Atlanta (where I went through customs) 15 minutes early. I made friends with the guy sitting next to me on the flight, and he let me use his phone to call Peter. As I'm sitting on the plane, I leave a super enthusiastic message: "HI PETER! It's Sara, but I'm calling from someone else's phone! Our plane just landed!! I'm on the Delta flight 5054 from ATLANTA!! So I'll meet you at the baggage claim!!! I'm so excited to see you!" Damien, my new friend, told me that I could use his phone again when we got our bags. What a nice guy!
We get to the baggage claim, and I'm expecting my bag to come out LAST, as usual, but of COURSE, the one time I actually need a little time, my bag is the first one off the conveyor belt. I waited with Damien as he got his bags, and then I used his phone again. This message was less enthusiastic. "Hi Peter, it's Sara again. I'm getting a little nervous that you're not answering your phone again. I got my bags, and I'm waiting at the Delta baggage claim - flight 5054 from Atlanta. I'll see you really soon!" I really was getting nervous about him not answering his phone, because he's one of those people who always has his phone, so of course I'm jumping to the most extreme conclusions: Oh my gosh, he's been in a horrible car accident. Oh my gosh, he slept through his alarm. Oh my gosh, he forgot about me.
I was standing by the baggage claim, getting a sore neck from turning my head from side to side so much. I lean against the wall. I watch the airport men take the unclaimed baggage off the conveyor. I'm beginning to brainstorm ways that I can ask a stranger to use their cell phone. An hour later, I am near tears, and I decide to sit down. A woman sitting next to me with the CUTEST kids ever asked me to watch their bags so that she could take the kids to the bathroom (I'm guessing the boy was 4 and the girl was 2). Perfect. My in. When she comes back, I ask her if I can use her cell phone. Of course I can!!! "Heyyyyyyy Peter, I'm getting REALLY worried about you. I'm sitting now between A and B, so please come find me. Ok... Bye..." I hang up the phone and call my mom. And start crying (so much for staying strong).
Sara: MOM (sniffle sniffle), Peter isn't here yet, I'm sitting by myself, and I'm really worried about him. What am I supposed to do?!?!
Mom: Sara? Who's phone are you calling from?
Sara: The nice lady sitting next to me. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO (gasp-sniffle-gasp)??
Mom: Calm down. Mr. Romenesko called me, and Peter left at 9 (it's 10:45AM at this time). He forgot his cell phone but-
Sara: WHAT?! HOW COULD HE FORGET HIS PHONE (gasp gasp and crying harder)?? I'M GOING TO KILL HIM.
Mom: Calm down, Sara. He has Corbin's phone. Just drink some water, and he'll be there soon, I promise.
Sara: BUT MOM I DON'T KNOW CORBIN'S PHONE NUMBER.
Mom: Sara. You. Are. Fine. He will be there.
Sara: Ok, bye. *hang up*
My thoughts at this moment in time: I am SO mad. I'm not even going to TALK to Peter when I see him. I'm just going to GET in the car, and GO to sleep. When we get to his house, I'm going to eat lunch with his parents, and then I'm going to go to SLEEP, and not even LOOK at him. *Yes, I apologized for these thoughts later.
Trying to compose myself, I give the woman her phone back. Her son, the 4ish year old, puts his hand on my knee and says, "What's taking Peter so long?" AWWWWWWWW Thank goodness I had these two little cuties to distract me. I'm not crying any more, but anytime I think about my situation and how I'll never be getting home, I get teared up. I see a man. Peter?!?! No, an Asian. I see another man. PETER??!? No, an old grandpa with a cane. My eyes were REALLY deceiving me.
Another hour later (11:45AM), I'm trying to work up the courage to ask the nice woman to use her phone again so that I can call my mom. I look around ONE MORE TIME, and I FINALLY see Peter walking towards me. I grab my bags, and I say (not nicely - which I DID feel bad about later) "Peter. PETER." in a dull, monotone voice. He hugs me (I looked HORRIBLE, by the way), and says, "I'm so sorry. How are you?" And I, being the kind, gentle, subtle person that I am, say, "I'm mad. Can we just go to the car?"
As we're walking, I decide to talk to him and get his side of the story. He forgot his phone. Not horrible. He stopped at the hardware store to pick up his brother's phone, so he would at least have one. He calls his house, and tells his dad to answer the phone if it rings. Mr. Romenesko doesn't. He calls the house later and tells his dad to check his messages. Three are from me. Mr. R tells Peter "Sara's worried." I'm so glad he picked up on my tone... Mr. R tells Peter that I'm at the international terminal. This is the killer. Peter got to the airport right on time, but was in the wrong spot.
At this time, I'm feeling REALLY bad about being so mean, especially because Peter was SO nice and even brought me a St. Norbert sweatshirt so that I could change out of my overnight flying clothes. We get in the car. He turns it on. THE HOOD STARTS SMOKING. I turn into mean Sara again - "Well, Peter, the good news is that Jenna and Mark live 20 minutes away. The BAD news is that if we have to CALL them the WHOLE SURPRISE IS RUINED." Smooth. Peter pops the hood, and we need to stop at a gas station. We'll make it home ok... He thinks.
When we get to his house, I eat lunch with the Romeneskos while Mr. R takes a look at Peter's car. He comes in the house and says, "Let me tell you, you two are REALLY lucky you made it home." Greeeeeeeeeeeeeeeat. I took a nap for the rest of the afternoon. The surprise was at 6:30PM at my house. My whole mom's side of the family was there. No one knew I was coming home except Mom.
Peter walks in the door first, and all of my sisters do an awkward "Peterrrr... Hiiiii" kind of that what-are-you-doing-here hi. Then, I walk in. My dad was the first one to see me, and he looks at me and says, "What the hell are you doing here?!?!?" Love you too, Dad. The next thing he says (no, 'I love you Sara!' or 'I've missed you sooooooo much you're my favorite daughter!') is, "WHY didn't IIIIII know you were coming home?" Dad. No one knew. Relax. Dinner was amazing (ALL AMERICAN FOOD IS AMAZING, I've come to find), and the rest of the night went VERY smoothly, despite my morning...
It was a wonderful trip home, and I arrived back in Quito around 10PM Easter Sunday night. I hopped in a cab (after being told it would be $10 dollars to get home, I said NO, and then settled for 5 when it SHOULD have been 2), and arrive at my house, which got FURNISHED while I was away, so now I have a kitchen table and COUCHES!! I go up to my room to find the door is locked. LOCKED. I emptied my entire suitcase on the landing floor looking for the stupid key, and of COURSE I don't find it. 33 minutes and 7 bobby pins later I picked the lock. I was sweating, swearing, and MAD by the time I get into my room. I shoved my clothes in my room, and fell asleep in my bed.
When I woke up this morning, AWESOME - there's no hot water!!! So I look HORRIBLE today with a day's worth of travel-grime on my body. At least I don't have to teach today. We're having kind of like a teacher's in-service, but it's mostly meetings where we talk about the students.
Until next time,
Sara the lock-picker.
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