Wednesday ushered in my first exposure to international education. Long ago, I dreamed of (felt called to would be a more appropriate description) teaching in a missionary school, so I was anxious for hands on experience. And I definitely got it. My father accompanied the missionary and I to the school. The roads were less smooth, and the route took us up through some poor communities, much like what you would expect to see on late night TV pledge commercials. It was an interesting juxtaposition for a five to ten minute drive - the commercial metropolis was a stone's through away, yet shanties cluttered together in small communities seemed to pervade the miles surrounding the school. Upon arrival, an armed guide suggested I sign in. I took his advice. I met briefly with the principal,and all too soon my father left and I was alone, in a foreign country, unable to speak the native tongue, unable to communicate via phone, and unable to even try to find my way to the house. I had a brief moment of panic, but it was mostly a surreal knowledge. It's so unusual in the States to have any one of those circumstances, let alone all of them.
The principal led me to the director, who introduced me to the teacher for first - third grade. I expected to observe, or help in the classroom. She sent me with the third grade to teach. As I led the students to the playground (the easiest place, in my mind, to work) I was more than a little overwhelmed. Fortunately, the students had worksheets they were supposed to go through. We talked through them, in broken English (I was not so bold - desperate? - as to try communicating in the rusty, extremely elementary Spanish vocabulary that had laid dormant for two years)we worked through them to the best of our ability until recess. I wasn't sure of the difference between recess and lunch (both times seemed characterized by the same activities and food), but at both I heard students playing some version of tag, taunting each other with "Gringa, Gringa." It made me laugh, but I don't think I could've felt any more conspicuous. Thank goodness they liked my eyes (I got several compliments on my blue eyes).
After recess I worked with the second graders, of whom there were several. They were far from fluent, so we accomplished one worksheet with minimal difficulty, but there was no way I would be able to teach them an entire lesson in Science (it was on farming. I tried to demonstrate, but apparently I'm an even worse actor than I remember). I was loosing them, so I got out my camera (and of course had their attention right away). We finished what we were working on, I took a few pictures (they LOVED pictures. a few girls pressed their faces against mine as soon as I took my camera out. guess they've got some experience with the American self-portrait - which I am sure is rather universal, but still...). Before too long, I took them back up and was told to work with the third graders again. I appreciated their fluency so much more, and we were able to get several worksheets done before lunch. I ate lunch with some of my students, then went and sat with the teacher. We talked a little, but mostly I just watched the kids play. They were having so much fun.
After lunch I was given the first graders, who spoke no English. There were only three of them, but they were a handful. I had them for the rest of the day and was given Math and Science books to go over once they had completed spelling. I am not sure what the teacher expected, but in the two hours we were together, almost all of the students finished their spelling, and I considered that a victory. A crucial part of classroom management, I've realized, is speaking the language of the students. The "mom look" - which I've received enough to do a decent impression - is universal, but only as long as the kids think that you'll back it up. About ten minutes before school let out, I gave up and we went outside to play.
I rode the bus home with the students. "Bus" is an exaggeration - it was just a church van, crammed full of students. I got to see a lot of different places in the city as we dropped the students off, and we arrived back at the missionary's house before I knew it. The team was still at the church for the sewing class and medical clinic, and I was exhausted and glad for the alone time. The team was back a few hours later, and we had a delicious dinner and a wonderful evening together.
Friday morning, my Dad spoke at the chapel service of the missionary's daughter's school. The missionary, my father, Anna, Andrea, Alyssa (who taught the sewing class) and I loaded up early Friday morning to head to school. This school was much more structured from the get-go. The campus was neat and tidy and the students were much more calm. The building was simple but decorated tastefully. The entire service was conducted in English, except for the national anthem and the pledge to the flag. Dad's sermon seemed pretty engaging, and after the chapel service we took a tour of the facility. Everything is open and airy, which is nice. The classes are set up with "offices" for the students, which essentially are tables with dividers set up to make it feel almost like a cubical. Because of the curriculum they use, everything is very individualized and all at the pace of each student. In spite of this, the classrooms were still colorful and welcoming. After the tour, I was given the option to stay behind. I was hesitant - the memory of Wednesday was still rather overwhelming and the idea of being stranded at a school with no way of saying that I wanted to leave caused a moment of panic - but the realization that this was my last opportunity won me over and I stayed. After everyone left, I had the opportunity to sit down with the principal and chat. She is an American and supervises only the English education component of the school. When each students graduates, he or she receives a degree recognized by the Honduranean school system and by schools abroad. It's pretty legit. We talked for a while about what her life was like as an American living in Honduras, and it was awesome.
Afterwards she put me in a classroom with the second and third graders. That teacher was so amazing. He was welcoming from the beginning, and he asked me simply to practice conversation with some of his advanced students. I am excellent at speaking English, so I readily agreed. The kids were so much fun! They peppered me with questions, and we talked about so many topics. Soon they asked me about my family, and I pulled my camera out to show pictures. When the camera came out, they all started posing. So goofy. We had been conversing for a while, so I figured we could take a break. The students suggested we go down to the courtyard, and I agreed. We took pictures and went back to work briefly, but soon it was recess. I agreed to play with them, and during an intense game of freeze tag, one of the administrators pulled by aside and politely whispered that we were in a forbidden area. Excellent. We quickly left, and I went back and talked to the teacher, a kind man who was studying foreign language at the university. He spoke excellent English and was very interested in the culture. One of the students came up to me and asked if I liked one of the traditional breakfast-y/snack foods. When I replied I had never tried it, the teacher went to the cafeteria and bought me one! It's been several weeks since I tried it, granted, but I liked it. It was a tortilla with mantequilla and red beans, I think. It made me feel very welcome, and I appreciated the generosity of the teacher.
After recess, I worked with a little boy who was struggling. He was a very cute little boy, but he didn't have a lot of focus or dedication to his work, which was not what I was used to. We worked through the necessary pages with a lot of re-focusing and some mild off-task antics while the teacher was gone. In the hour or so we worked together, he seemed to get a lot done, though I don't know the typical standard. During our time together, it was cool to watch the teacher in action. He used some of the same American classroom management techniques we're learning about in my education class at MSSU, which was super cool. When I asked him about it, he said that it just made sense to use the callbacks, etc. I was pretty impressed with him.
Lunch was delicious - fresh fruit, fresh avocado - mmmmm. It was fun to watch the kids play and laugh. I also got more opportunity to speak with the teacher, which I really enjoyed. It was fun to see him interact with the students during their recess time as well.
After lunch, the students studied in Spanish. A calligraphy teacher came in to instruct them, and the teacher worked on some grading. We talked about American culture for a while (he's really into movies), and then the principal invited me to play with the kindergartners during their recess. I agreed, since my time at the school was drawing to a close.
The kindergartners were a mischievous bunch. I thoroughly enjoyed the few minutes I had the opportunity to spend with them before I had to leave. They loved the camera, of course, and they loved playing with me. They had an awesome tree house that they climbed around fearlessly. What a joy it was to see children play without the cumbersome restriction that the US imposes on recess! It was a wonderful way to end my school days in Honduras.
