Full

On this day in Rey Curre, I have writer's block, and I'm on my third round of trying to write a blog entry. So, I decided that I would let this be stream of conscious and let the reader follow along with me as I reflect on the last couple of weeks. It's so hard to put into words the number of things that I have been feeling and thinking. As many of you know, I have always thought of teaching as a roller coaster. Some days, I am up and thinking that I am a great teacher. Other days, I am down and thinking that I probably shouldn't step into another classroom again. It's silly and extreme to think such negative things. What good does it do me? For one, if my thoughts are focused on putting myself down, then I'm much less likely to be able to think on my feet and do a great job of teaching. Several thoughts have really helped me to improve my teaching lately. 1. This whole thing is about learning. So, plan, be prepared, plan assessments ahead of time and teach accordingly, but when all else fails, just try to help them speak the language. 2. I CAN think on my feet and adapt activities to the situation. Therefore, I need to spend more time researching new activities to be fresh on my mind and less time staring at a blank template, trying to write lesson plans. [Note: Not that I won't lesson plan, but just that the time spending researching new ideas must always be proportionately greater.] 3. Have fun! (Because if I'm not having fun, then chances are no one is having fun.)

I'm really excited about an upcoming project. The sixth graders and I are going to travel to a nearby town next Friday and teach an English class to a small school of 10 students that doesn't have the advantage of having an English teacher. It's neat how it all came about. I had been thinking about doing such a thing because it's a great opportunity for the students to make a difference in their home place. And, they say that the best way to learn is to teach others. It's like killing two birds with one stone. Anyway, about two weeks ago, there was a conference at the elementary school in Curre, and the director of a school nearby approached me about offering English classes to her students. Badabing! I took down her number and gained approval from the director, and the rest is history. Let's see how this goes. Maybe we can do this once a unit.

Every day is so full here. It starts early. Breakfast, morning exercises, reflection, and off to school. Three 80-minute classes followed by preparation time. Then, I run back to the house to change, drink a cup of coffee, and head off to plaza to play soccer, or to de-stress as I like to call it. Inevitably, I end up chatting with some of the high school students, shooting the breeze or talking about what they want to learn in the next English class. (Numbers have been scarce lately, so I'm trying to talk it up the best that I can.) Afterward, I amble slowly back up the hill, admiring the sun setting behind the hills. If I'm lucky, I run into some friends and chat a bit, trying to improve on my accent and fluidity. Then, my stomach draws me to the kitchen where I help Freddy with dinner. Some days, the house is brimming with people: two or more of Freddy's six children and their spouses and children, a visiting relative from Boruca (the neighboring Indigenous reservation), or one of Freddy's many friends in and around Curre. Other days, it's just Freddy and I sharing a relaxed dinner together. It's a nice mix, and I really like it here. Finally, sitting on the front porch, I bring the night to an end checking my email, chatting with family on Skype, or playing my guitar under the stars.

Don't get me wrong, not every day is this predictable. After all, you never know when the lights are going to go out and you have to eat dinner by the light of a flashlight. Or, you may catch the gripe (the common cold), and you have to spend the afternoon curled up on the hammock. Or, you may have an English lesson one evening and a dance lesson the next with your intercambio partners. Sometimes one of my good friends and fellow volunteers, Rachel, and I laugh at how often we heard it said that we would have tons of free time here. If anything, I have thought more often about how quickly this year is going to go by. There's so much left to do, and we're already three months down! Whew! :) So, how would I describe my experience here so far in one word? Full. Full of teaching, soccer, relationships, waterfalls, rivers, sunsets, smiles, hugs, kisses, rice, beans, Spanish, English, reading, learning, dreaming, remembering, hoping, feeling, praying, searching, reflecting, laughing, asking, answering, and believing.

As always dear reader, thanks for listening!

10 times

On this day in Rey Curre, I passed the afternoon under the hot sun practicing soccer, or bola, as it is often called here. My ten years of competitive swimming taught me discipline, perseverance, and teamwork, but it did not teach me how to juggle a soccer ball or assist a goal with a head ball. Little did I know then how much I would covet these skills. And, now that all my high school, soccer-playing friends have gotten a good laugh at picturing me trying to guard against my Tican students, half my size and not wearing shoes, I'll persist with the value of this Sunday afternoon solitary practice session.

I want to learn. I want to learn the steps to the Latin dances. I want to learn how to teach English. I want to learn the Spanish language. I want to learn more of the beauty of Costa Rica as evidenced by this picture taken while visiting my friend in Chirripo. I want to learn how to play soccer. But, most importantly, I want to learn because it enriches my life and it informs my teaching. I already know how to speak English, so I can't really relate when my students struggle to understand how to conjugate in the past tense. And, I've studied Spanish for quite a few years, so I'm far past square one. But, when it comes to soccer, I have very little intuition. So, I set a goal. On my way to the soccer field, I had it in my mind to do 10. 10 laps up and down the field with the ball. 10 minutes of juggling the ball. I0 sets of push-ups and sit-ups. Yet, justifiably, I predicted that I may be interrupted by a student who wants me to watch them climb a tree or a member of the community who wants to ask me if I've taken a liking to Curre.

But then, a lesson that I learned in my Senior year Calculus class surfaced in my mind. We sat in our desks, watching one of our classmates try to reach his destination: the door. The problem was that the teacher told him that in order to reach the door, he would have to walk half of the distance first. With the remaining half of the distance between the student and the door, the teacher broke the news to him that yet again he would have to walk half the distance before he could reach the door. And so on and so forth so that he was never actually able to make it to the door. It's called Zeno's paradox, and it's an attempt at showing that motion is impossible. Of course, we know this is not true, and there are reasonable explanations to be found. Nevertheless, my classmates and I walked out of class that day with a valuable lesson learned. If we want to reach our goals, we ought to set them higher than we think possible and, if we don't reach them, it doesn't mean we've failed. It just means we need to set them higher.

I didn't get to finish all 10 minutes of practice with juggling the ball, but I did practice. Next time, I will try again. More importantly, I gained the inspiration for my Wednesday afternoon high school classes. I'm not going to give them homework because I'm not their teacher. But, I'm going to give them challenges. Practice the pronunciation exercise 10 times. Or, write 10 verbs that you use every day and look for their translation. Or, write 10 sentences using the new vocabulary that we learned. What's so special about 10? Nothing, except that it's the goal. If they reach it, great! If they don't, maybe we just need to make it higher.

Let's set our goals high, and rise up to meet them!