Say What?

Oftentimes when I teach my Social Studies class, the children don’t understand what I’ve just written on the board. So to better illustrate my point, I give examples and hypothetical situations to explain the issue. We were talking about trade unions one day when I started to give one my examples. “So, say I’m a taxi driver...” I began. Before I could finish my example the class recited back to me in unison, “I’m a taxi driver.”

Picture Perfect

Blogger's Note: I'm back to two posts this week. Enjoy.

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Over the holiday, I got the perfect Christmas present from my parents. They gave me a new camera to replace the one I spilled my Nalgene all over. Yay! Here’s a compilation of a few pictures (recent, not recent, and not mine) to celebrate the addition of pictures to my blog.

We made a day trip to Parika to visit the market last Saturday. Of course the market ended up being closed, so we just hung out by the river.

For the Parika trip, we had to cross the river by speedboat, as seen here.

The Guyanese clothes dryer: wind. This picture is old.

This picture isn’t mine. Jon, a fellow volunteer living in another region, took it. This is basically his back yard in Mabaruma. Beautiful.

But I’m not that jealous because this is how you grade papers with no electricity. Note the nice empty bottle of rum on Molly’s desk, which is a necessity when you have to work in the dark. Again the photo credit goes to Jon.

Stage Fright

There are 4 stages in the development of interpersonal relationships: 1) orientation, 2) exploration, 3) affective exchange, and 4) stable exchange. Based on my experiences, it seems the Guyanese like to fast forward through stages 1-3 and immediately arrive at stage 4, overstepping many American cultural boundaries and oftentimes invading one’s privacy.

On Monday morning, shortly after I had just woken up, I heard a knock at the front door from an unannounced visitor. I slowly opened the door to see my roommate’s student take off his shoes and walk right in.
Stage 1 Orientation: Student begins to orientate himself around the house.

Me: Um, come in [student].
Student: Miss Nadia home?
Me: No she’s not.
The student sits down and makes himself at home while he rummages through our things.
Stage 2 Exploration: Student explores our personal belongings lying around the living room.

Me: Would you like some breakfast?
Student: No thanks Miss.
Me: Ok, well I’m going to get ready for school. Let me know if you need anything.

I begin running back and forth getting ready. The morning grogginess still hasn’t worn off, but I attempt to make conversation with the student. After a few exchanges, I run into my room, give the door a gentle push shut and begin putting on sunscreen as the student remains sitting on the couch.

Me: So [student], are you waiting for me to walk to school with you?
Student: Me don’t know Miss.
Stage 3 Affective Exchange: My thoughtful exchange with the student to determine his length of stay was not effective.

I continue getting ready when the student asked, “Miss, what is that cream you’re putting on your legs?” Startled, I quickly look up to see two little eyes peeping through the crack of my door that didn’t shut completely.
Stage 4 Stable Exchange: In my calm and stable teacher voice, I tell the student to get his ass back on the couch.

Back to Basics

Blogger's Note: I've been back in Guyana for half a week, so there will be only one post. Hopefully I'll be able to resume the two posts a week next time. Happy New Year everyone!
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After indulging myself for three weeks of cleanliness, civilization and delicious holiday food, it’s back to living the simple life. I was actually eager to step off the plane knowing that I would be greeted with warm weather after enduring the bitter cold 50 degree Texas climate. Five minutes after standing in the Customs line, I started sweating and all too soon remembered how hot it gets in Guyana.

During my first mini-bus ride back, I was crammed against three women, a huge basket filled with bananas, and the conductor straddling me since he had no seat for himself. If the driver had suddenly slammed on the brakes, my knee would have hit the conductor and prevented him from ever having children. I had never felt so close to a stranger before, not even squished on the New York subway lines. It was a nice welcome back gesture from the Guyanese.

School resumed immediately after my restful holiday. The second I entered the classroom, I crisply met reality when I saw a note written on the board by one of the students wishing everyone a “Marry New Years!”

I began the new term by asking the Head of Department what I could expect for the week. She optimistically let me know that if I wanted, I could start teaching. Then she quickly added that only 12 students showed up today and realistically nothing would be going on for the remainder of the week. After an uneventful morning, mainly consisting of the 12 students socializing, I asked another teacher what we could do this afternoon. “Same thing we were doing this morning,” she replied, “We’ll be staring at the wall.”

The next day I walked into the classroom to see a teacher with a ball of yarn and a crochet needle. Clearly the day will be just as eventful as the one before. One of the teachers broke out a bottle of Guyanese Cherry Brandy and poured me a glass. She quickly noted that the bright red beverage over ice resembled juice, in case any student sitting 5 feet away asked. Then, in the front of the classroom, four Guyanese teachers and one volunteer made a toast to fresh beginnings and the new year.

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.

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.