Tuesday, December 12, 2006

I'll Be Home For Christmas

While living in Guyana I’ve definitely relearned the importance of appreciating everything you have. Before I came here there were many things that I took for granted, like dropping off my laundry. There were also some things I didn’t have that Guyana could offer, like the opportunity to feed a baby sloth.

A while ago I made a list of things to do before I die. While not all of these things were on it, I can definitely check off the following for 2006:

- Climb up a waterfall- check.
- Begin to understand Creolese- check.
- Learn how to be more patient and resilient- check.
- Not get malaria or typhoid- check.
- Teach a class of 200 screaming children- check.
- Get on a cooking show- check.
- Learn how to survive without running water- check.

Even with the abundance of new experiences here, there were still some days when I asked myself, “Where the hell am I?” During those times I would just close my eyes and go to my “happy place,” which was the most luxurious place I could think of: I could take a shower with warm, clean water. Then I could jump in a nice fluffy bed and snuggle under the covers because it was actually that cold. The thought of that now even makes me feel a little indulgent.

Well for Christmas my wish is coming true. I’ll be coming home to Texas, after making a stop in Brazil. I may have one more post depending on my internet accessibility, then the blog will be going on hiatus until I return in the beginning of January.

So, If you would like to see a fatter, tree hugger version of the Yvonne, email me. My old cell phone is still being used by someone else.

Thursday, December 07, 2006

Kickin' It With The Soccer Team

Blogger's Note: I apologize for the delay in posts. Things have been quite busy lately and I haven't had a chance to use the internet. Next update should be this weekend-ish.

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On Tuesday just after giving my final at 1:50 pm, eight boys from the soccer team ran up begging me to take them to watch the Guyana vs. Grenada game. They already had tickets from the school, but apparently the teacher that was supposed to take them no longer could.

I was done with classes for the day and couldn’t resist their sad puppy dog faces, so I asked the Headmaster if it would be ok if I took the boys. He then informed me that we needed to be there in 10 minutes, and that the game was 45 minutes away.

By the time we made it to the game, we were fashionably late, and right on time for kick-off. The game was quite enjoyable. Every time Guyana was about to make a goal, the boys would run up to the front to catch a better glimpse of the excitement and the players’ remarkable athletic ability. The game ended 4-0 Guyana, leaving the boys in high spirits.

Since they were so well behaved, I promised them I would treat them to ice cream on our way home. We were heading straight down the street when all of sudden four boys veered off the path and around the corner. When I caught up to them, I turned to see a line of boys in uniform urinating in the grassy area on the side of a shop. So being a good teacher and embedding some civility in the students, I took out my hand sanitizer and made each one of them wash their hands.

After the boys had each received their ice cream cone and finished it, it was already dark. It made me nervous waiting in the bus park with the kids, especially since we were warned by the US embassy about lingering there after dark. Every attempt I had made to get the children transportation had failed since the locals were pushing their way to board bus. After 30 minutes I grew anxious and frustrated. The boys sensed my apprehension and bolted towards the next bus and fought their way on. Then they held back the oncoming crowd to ensure I boarded the bus safely and saved me a seat. It was so unexpected, yet sweet, that the boys were the ones taking care of me, even though I’m the Miss.

On the ride back the boys were in a jovial mood, singing and laughing the entire way. I started to relax knowing that we would all be safe going home, until I heard someone yell out, “Miss, John is licking the mini-bus,” followed by another shout, “John, Miss bought you ice-cream and you’re still hungry?” At that point I had intervene and using my teacher voice I had to say, “John, please stop licking the mini-bus,” words I never thought I would have to say.

Sugar and Spice

Teaching in a third world country definitely has its setbacks and frustrations. These past few months have been difficult, but I’m constantly reminded why I’m here. Sometimes it’s a random person stopping me on the street thanking me for being here or a student asking me to stay another year that keeps me going. It’s holding on to these little moments that makes it all worth while. Here are some examples to make you feel fuzzy inside too:


Student: Miss, you didn’t get to finish your lesson today
Me: I know. It’s because the (unsupervised) students in the other classes were so loud (that I had to go babysit them instead of doing my job and teaching you). I’m sorry.
Student: Will you teach us tomorrow?
Me: Well I don’t have your class tomorrow.
Student: Ok Miss, well thank you for teaching us Miss.
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There’s five minutes remaining in class before lunch break and not enough time to start the next activity.
Me: Class since you’ve been so well behaved today how do you guys feel about going to lunch 5 minutes early?
Student: No Miss, we want to keep on learning!
Me: Seriously? Raise your hand if you would rather keep learning.
Half the class raises their hands… and obviously the other half would rather go to lunch.
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Student: Miss, how long are you staying for?
Me: Just one year.
Student: You won’t forget us when you leave will you?
Me: Of course not!
Student: Ok, here’s what you’re going to do. You take a picture of us, then put it under your pillow so at night you can dream about us.
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Mother sitting across the street from school: Miss, my daughter wants to tell you something.
The mother urges her 7 year old daughter to talk to me.
Me: Hi. What did you want to say?
The shy girl smiles sweetly but refuses to talk.
Mother: Emily says she wants to grow up to be just like you.
Me: Oh really? That’s so sweet.
Mother: Yes, she says that she wants to grow up to be American.