"No, Diego, it's a 'bling-ring'."

Every Monday through Thursday, I tutor nine year old Edison. On Monday, he came into my little closet of a classroom and starting waving his hand in my face. He was wearing a ring made out of a one dollar bill. He let me see it, and while he was writing on the board, I made my own. Every time he did something right, we would make fists and do the fist-pound, except Edison made a noise similar to the light saber movement (ask Peter or my brother to do it - I can't) and scrunched his face all up. The power of the ring, apparently, is very strong. I didn't feel it like he did.

After his class was over, I put the ring in my bag, because there was no way that I was going to wear it in public.

Every day after tutoring Edison, I catch a bus home. Now, as you know, my bus experiences haven't been pleasant. The stop I'm at is about 3 stops before it gets PACKED, so about 53% of the time, I'm able to get a seat, which I LOVE, because my bag is heavy, and I don't feel AS ill.

On Monday, I caught the bus like I usually do, and was able to get a seat right away. I was wedged (not exaggerating) between an OLD man (like, may-have-met-Jesus old) and a woman with her what looked/sounded like a 3 year old daughter. As I was sitting there, the old man kept giving me his two-tooth grin, and the little girl just kept STARING at me. I kept looking straight ahead, feeling very awkward, and VERY out of place.

As I'm sitting there, beginning to sweat because the bus was getting fuller, and apparently no one believes in opening the windows, I feel something on my hair, just a swift movement like a bug or something. This was no bug. It was the three year old girl. I thought it was an accident. I kept looking ahead. I feel it again. This time, there is no mistaking that it is this little girl, petting me like a dog (and we all know how much I LOVE dogs). Now, if I were her mother, I would have swatted her hand down and said, "Leave the poor, sweating white girl alone!", but as I looked over, I saw Madre sitting there grinning at her daughter - God's OBVIOUS gift to the world.

As I continue sitting there, more awkwardly than ever, trying my hardest to ignore this little piglet that keeps touching me, I hear her say to her mother, "Mommy, is her hair REAL?!" Madre just smiled and said "Yes, my love." Yes, you idiot, it's real, you've been touching it for the last ten minutes. I wish I was kidding when I tell you that for the entire 27 minute bus ride this girl was touching my hair. I wanted to smack her.

Today, as I was looking through my bag for a pencil during class, I found the ring that I made with Edison. So, I put it on. I suddenly turned into the coolest teacher ever. I decided that next week since it's just review, I'm going to teach the kids to make one. While they were reading today, Alfredo gave me a dollar and I made him a ring too.

I was sitting in the teacher's lounge, just laughing at my ring, and Diego comes in. So I show him and laugh. He laughs too, and gives me a dollar. He wore his ring on his pinky for the rest of the day, and every time I looked at him I just burst out laughing. He was calling it his dollar ring, but I kept telling him, "No, Diego, it's a 'bling-ring'." This made him laugh even more. I love that I'm thug enough to be wearing bling made out of dolla billz.

On my way to tutoring today (Edison, that little donkey, didn't show up), I realized that I didn't have enough money for the cab. I was a dollar short. As I was looking through my bag I thought, "WOW it's a good thing I'm wearing this bling-ring! I can take a cab!" So I paid for the cab with my ring. I felt hella cool.

OH, speaking of dollahs, my students have been asking me to speak in a British accent. Ummmmm. No. They don't understand why I won't, and in reality it's because it's EMBARRASSING, and all I can think about is how my sisters and I used to speak in British accents all the time when we were little. This one time, when I was in 3rd grade, we went to Disney World, and at one of the water parks, Jenna and I decided to speak in British accents all day. Mom yelled at us because there was actually a British family near us. Then we got all embarrassed and didn't go back to the towels ALL day because we didnt' know if they'd heard us. I'm sure they did.

Until next time,
Sara with skillz and dolla billz

"Teacher, will you miss your mother on Mother's Day?"

This was the most asked question that I received last week, which is normal, considering Mother's Day is all over the TV here, and everyone is doing something with their families. Yes, I will miss my mother a LOT on Mother's Day.

Holidays, no matter how big or how small, are the days that I am the most homesick. They don't even have to be holidays, really. I found myself missing home terribly on Friday when Taylor was crowned Prom Queen, and I couldn't see in person how beautiful she looked or the look of surprise on her face as they announced her name. So today, in an attempt to keep myself busy enough to not sink into a sad and lonely state, I went to an artesian market, made a few purchases and read in the park until clouds covered the sky and it looked like it may rain. Despite the fact that I was out and about, I was - and still am, for that matter - thinking about my mom, and all of the mothers that are out in the world.

I have had the pleasure of getting to know mothers from not only the United States, but from all parts of the world. All of these mothers are the "best mom in the world!", and this is true - each mother is the best mother in the world to her children. I can proudly say, that I too, have the best mother in the world.

As many of you know, I have been babysitting since the now-illegal age of 10 years old. During high school, I swore up and down that I would NEVER be a parent like my own mom was: a classic "mean mom" who gave us a curfew and punished us if we went past it, who wouldn't let us see our friends on Sunday because it is "family day", and who never let us sleep past 9AM on weekends. But, after caring for other people's children and having a very intimate view of how other mothers function, I realize that I have become more like my mom than I ever thought I would. And do you know what? I'm OK with that.

My mom always made family a priority, and now, being so far from my family, I couldn't be happier. Because of this, I can honestly say that my siblings are some of my closest friends. People who know my family have often told me that we are "abnormally close" and get along "surprisingly well". Thank you, Mom, for giving me all 6 of my wonderful siblings.

My mom also forced politeness upon us, making us hug all of our relatives upon leaving any sort of family occasion, and threatening our lives if we didn't behave in church. Although sometimes the threats didn't work (silent laughter fits in the middle of mass, anyone?), people who have known us "since [we] were born!" come up to my parents in church and congratulate them on how well-behaved we are. To be honest, we've gotten worse as we've gotten older, but still, it's nice to hear that you're polite once in awhile. Thank you, Mom, for beating politeness into me.

Among many other things, my mom gave me a mind of my own. If she didn't love and support me as much as she does, I would never have had the opportunity to be living and teaching in a foreign country. She wasn't wild about the idea of me coming here, but she never once told me no. She never even asked me if I was sure that I was making the right decision. My mom saw that I wanted to do this, and she respected it, never once telling me that she didn't want me to leave. Thank you, Mom, for letting me think for myself.

As I just pass the four month mark of being in Ecuador, I sit here realizing how blessed my siblings and I are, for having the best mom in the world.

We don't tell our mothers enough how much we appreciate them and how much we really love them. Don't just do it today - do it as often as you can.

So, to all of the wonderful mothers in the world who love their children, we love you too.

Happy Mother's Day.

"Teacher, you will be a good mother."

First - I added the pictures from Diego's camera of our weekend in the country. Click on the link above, and then they're in the album called "My wonderful weekend in the country". Enjoy!



Now - I'm sure you're wondering why one of my students told me that I'm going to be a good mother, especially after last week's episode of smacking a kid (David) in the forehead with the door. Please read on.

The drama of this past week has revolved around one main character: David. This poor kid is one of the class clowns, but instead of just being the funny guy, he gets picked on constantly by others. I'll admit that most of the time he brings it on to himself, but some of the things that have happened to him!

The kids aren't allowed to chew gum in my class. This is a rule that has been set by the school, but I enforce it mostly because I can't stand to hear them smacking their lips, blowing bubbles, and snapping their gum. And the gum they chew isn't just chewing gum like Trident or Orbit (my personal favorite). It's BUBBLE gum that they buy at a little stand near the cafeteria. It comes in gum ball form, and they end up with a huge wad of gum in their mouths that they can't even BEGIN to chew discreetly.

I've begun starting the class saying "If you have gum, spit it out now. This is your only chance." So, half the students groan, tell me I'm horrible, and spit out their gum. The same students every day. David and Jahir always spit out their gum at this point. But 5 minutes after sitting down, they put ANOTHER piece of gum in their mouths. Really? You KNOW I'm going to tell you to spit it out. And half the time, when I tell them AGAIN, they say, "BUT TEACHERRRRRRRRRRR, it's a new pieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeece." I tell them "You KNOW I'm going to make you spit it out. It's not MY fault that you're throwing your money away AS WE SPEAK." David and Jahir always take multiple trips to the garbage can to spit out their gum.

David was annoying everyone in class on Monday, and, unfortunately for David, he was being annoying when Jahir had to spit out his third piece of gum. Instead of putting it in the garbage can, he PUT IT IN DAVID'S HAIR. Peanut butter, anyone? David starts screaming like a girl (I'm not kidding - yesterday he even said, "Teacher, do you want to hear me scream like a girl?" And then he lets out this piercing shriek.) and yelling "TEACHERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR DID YOU SEE WHAT JAHIR JUST DO TO ME?!?!" So I scold Jahir, fighting to keep a straight face, and I begin to pick the gum out of David's hair.

On Tuesday, David thought that he figured out a way to keep his gum when I told him he had to spit it out: put the gum at the very back of his throat, so when he opens his mouth to show me that it's not there I don't see it, and then cough it up when I go back to my desk. Well THAT blew up in his face.

I told David to spit out his gum, so he faked it, putting his new plan into action. I am not as stupid as the kids think I am. I KNEW that David didn't spit out his gum, and so I inspected his mouth longer than usual. I knew he "swallowed" it. When I walked away, David, being satisfied because HE thinks that I think that he spit out his gum, starts coughing to cough up this wad of gum. He was coughing more than usual. It turns out that the wad of gum traveled too far down David's throat. He realized that he couldn't cough it up. He was standing by the garbage can holding his throat coughing. The kid was literally choking on his gum. I didn't know what to do.

A kid named Sergio - with a name like that he even SOUNDS like he would be someone's knight in shining armor, and it turns out that he was David's - LEAPED up from his desk and begins POUNDING on poor, poor David's back. The gum landed on the floor. David's eyes were watering, but he was laughing really hard none the less. I guess it takes a near-death experience for the kid to learn to just spit out his fricking gum.

Wednesday, I thought that David would be a new man and NOT put a new piece of gum in his mouth after I told him to spit it out. Wrong. But oh well. At least he didn't try swallowing his gum every time - he just spit it out, wad by wad.

On Wednesday, all of the kids in David's class had little clay fetuses that they made for a different class (tutoria, but I have no idea what that means). They were actually really disturbing and gross, mostly because they were just little clay babies with umbilical cords coming out of their stomachs. David had one. "Sara, I want you to meet my son," he said to me upon entering class. (Side note: David is the only student that calls me just Sara and not Teacher or Teacher Sara. The kid kills me.) I told David that I would babysit his son during class, because I knew that these ugly fetuses were going to be a distraction.

I was partially right. It turned out that the CLAY caused the distraction.

Throughout the class, the kids were throwing clay at each other, David of course being the main culprit. Apparently, on David's way up to my desk to ask me a question, he threw a tiny piece of clay at Katya. When David got to my desk, Katya followed him. Before I knew it, Katya is RUBBING a pea-sized piece of gray clay into David's hair. Now I am completely aware that a pea is NOT that big. It gets bigger and messier, however, when being rubbed into someone's hair. David starts screaming like a girl and rubbing at his hair, making the situation much worse than it may have been had he let me handle the situation.

So, for the next five minutes of class, I helped students coming up to my desk with their worksheets while picking clay out of David's hair. Upon this scene, Cristian, another student, comes up to my desk and says, "Teacher, you will be a good mother." Thank you, Cristian, but in all honesty, if the way I teach/"take care" of my students is any reflection on the kind of mother I will be, I probably shouldn't have children. I DID get all of the clay out of David's hair in the end.

The worksheet that the students were working on have to do with wishes - the topic of the lesson we're on. I found the worksheet on the internet. The students had to fill in the blanks with a verb in the past tense. Example: "I wish I ________________ Chinese. Shopping in Beijing is hard!" Now, the kind of answer that this statement is prompting is "could speak" or "spoke" in the blank. These are two sentences that I got back when a couple students asked me to look over their sheet: "I wish I wasn't Chinese. Shopping in Beijing is hard!" and "I wish I could be Chinese..." I started laughing SO hard at the "I wish I could be Chinese." sentence, especially because it came from shy Diego, who sits right in front of my desk. When he asked why I was laughing, I said, "Diego, you want to be Chinese?!" and his face got all red as I explained what the answer should be. It was hilarious.

Until next time,
Sara the Supermom

"I will give you THREE LifeSavers if you don't tell anyone what happened!!"

First of all, I've added recent pictures to my Picasa account. They include pictures from the farm visit, and a picture of the Superman Jesus! If you click on the link above - La Vida Ecuatoriana - it will bring you to the albums.

Since returning from Easter Break, I've found that my schedule is more exhausting than ever. I am away from my house for around 12 hours per day, and by the time I get home, I watch America's Next Top Model, Skype with whomever may be available (NEVER TRAVIS, AHEM), and am usually falling asleep by 9:30. I like being busier though - time is flying by, and I can't believe that we're already in May! I'm teaching the final unit to the kids, and after that they have a week review of the entire year, trimester exams, and then the kids that pass are let out of school (I think it's on June 11), while the failed kids have two weeks of a summer school type program where they are given ONE MORE CHANCE to pass the school year. Talking to my boss, everyone always passes, because no one likes being left behind - no wonder some of the English levels in my classroom are so low!

Last Tuesday, the kids had a unit test. On Monday, thinking that I'm being nice and giving all of the kids the opportunity to get a 100%, I gave the kids a review guide, and we discussed ALL of the answers. The review guide was indeed the same exact thing as the test, although I did change around the order of questions. This still doesn't seem to matter. The lowest grade I gave was a 62%, and this just BAFFLES me. HOW is this POSSIBLE? 24 hours ago, I gave you ALL the right answers, and you're still getting nearly half of them WRONG. I didn't say this to the kids, but OH how I wanted too.

When the kids are "sick" on the day of a test, I make them take it the first day that they are well again, but they have to move a desk into the hallway so that I can resume class without disturbing them. David (the kid who got his face stuck in his braces a while back) had to take the test on Wednesday.

To give you a visual, all of the classrooms have double doors, that in total width are slightly larger than a normal doorway. One of the doors always stays closed, so there's only a narrow opening to get in and out of the classroom. So David, instead of moving his desk in the normal spot in the hallway - away from the doors and against a wall - decides to put his back up against the closed door and face out. Fine. I make him move forward a little bit so that I can get the other door closed, albeit with some force. All in all, it's a tight fit for him to be there, but it's pointless arguing with the kid.

After I close both of the doors, I notice David peaking through the cracks of the doors. I go over, open a door, and say "DAVID! TAKE YOUR TEST!!" And he responds "OK Teacher!!!!!" I close the door again. 20 seconds later, David opens it, to peak have of his face through the door. "DAVID! JUST TAKE YOUR TEST!!!!!!!" His response? "OK TEACHER!!!!" With that huge goofy smile on his face. I lock the door, so he can't open it anymore.

In the next 10 minutes, David keeps peaking through the crack, but I say nothing. Sometimes he BANGS on the door because he has a question, so I pop my head out and help him. About 4 minutes went by with no movement from David, so I decided to go check on him to make sure that he didn't have any questions.

As I was walking toward the door, I was telling something to another student, so I wasn't looking at the door as I was opening it. Apparently, David saw me coming, and, without me noticing, started peaking through the crack of the doors. Key words - WITHOUT ME NOTICING. As I continue talking to Sergio, I open the door, somewhat forcefully because I have to shove it past David's desk, and BOOM. Oh shit.

"TEACHERRRRRRR HOW COULD YOU DOOOOOOOO THAT TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?!?!?!?!?!?!" Since I didn't notice David's head in front of the door, when I opened it, it SMACKED him in the middle of the forehead. I wish I was talking about a little love tap. This poor kids eyes were watering, his forehead was getting red, and he looked like he was in pain. I was HORRIFIED. I'm going to lose my job. I'm going to lose my house. I'm going to have to fly back to the United States.

The 6 or so kids who sit near the door saw this happen, and they BUSTED out laughing, as in tears were in THEIR eyes as well. I shut the door and talked to David in the hallway, after feeling his forehead and making sure there was not a horrible goose egg forming. "David. I will give you THREE LifeSavers if you don't tell ANYONE what just happened." Now first, I would like to thank God for having it be David that I smacked with a door. He LOVES candy, so he eagerly nodded his head and said "OK Teacher! I won't say ANYTHING!!" I stopped sweating, and wanted to hug him. I told him to finish taking his test, offered him Excedrin (which is illegal, but dang, I would have had a headache too), and went back into the classroom. As a side note, I was telling my friend Jess about this incident, and she said, "Sara, that is totally worth TWENTY LifeSavers." This I am completely aware of. David, however, is not.

Once I went back into the classroom, I completely lost it. I started laughing SO hard that tears were streaming down my cheeks and my stomach hurt. The kids who saw it were still laughing too, and the others were just bewildered.

When David finished his test, he moved his desk back into the classroom - he sits in the front row - and sat down. Throughout the entire class, he kept looking at me and giving me that goofy smile, and holding up three fingers, in case I forgot my promise to give him three LifeSavers. No, David, I didn't forget - TRUST ME.

I didn't bring my LifeSavers to school until Friday, and at that point I decided to be nice and let everyone in David's class have one. I just walk around with a Ziplock bag full of LifeSavers, and everyone takes one. David took three, and of course the tattle-tale kids that I have yell, "DAVID TOOK THREE! TEACHER! DID YOU SEE?!?! DAVID HAS THREEEEEEEEEEEEE." You know, LifeSavers aren't even that good, and here they are putting up a huge fuss about it. I told them, "I know." And moved on.

I am so happy to say that David kept the secret, and I still have a job.

Until next time,
Sara the teacher who bribes children with candy. Hey - it works.

"Anything for the princess!"

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

"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

"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