Well, I'm not exactly punting. But some technical difficulties regarding my smart board/more importantly, my projector have left me in a tough state for my classes tomorrow and I'm moving up a period to be spent free-writing and sharing bits from that free-write while this would have come later in the week. The fact of the matter is that I've already come to rely on the board, and since I'm doing Into Thin Air I had wanted to share a bunch of pictures of Everest and Edmund Hillary, Tenzing Norgay, and Thomas Mallory, since the part of the book students will have just read deals heavily with that. Now, thanks to the wonders of technology, I'm punting with a freewrite. Problem is, one of my classes I have for a double period in the afternoon. What shall I do about that extra period, you may ask? This is where 4 periods of prep in a day come in handy, I suppose. I'm going to bed.
4th and long.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
...for a long time
As of 2 hours ago, I have lived in Honduras for two weeks. This is very nearly the reasonable length limit of what I call the "vacation stage." While some vacations can last longer than two weeks, many are not much longer than a week or week and a half. It's my estimation that when moving to a new place, it's very easy within that "vacation stage" to convince yourself on some subconscious level that you are on nothing more than a vacation and that your return home is coming in a very timely manner. I have a feeling that within the next few days, the concrete, disillusioned realization that my return home is not coming until mid December, and then after that not until late June is going to devastate me somehow. The breathing room of the first weekend of teaching is a very viable possibility for this vacation-ending epiphany, as this morning I sat down to check e-mail and momentarily considered turning on the radio to listen to the NPR Saturday morning "cartoons" of Car Talk, Wait Wait Don't Tell Me, and This American Life. Sure, I can subscribe to the podcasts of each of these shows and listen to them at my leisure, but my leisure shouldn't have anything to do with it. These shows are for Saturday mornings. Or at least in the States, when one can listen to real NPR at will, are they for Saturday mornings. When you are not on vacation, they are for Saturday mornings.
You may be thinking that this last paragraph is a hiccup in the trajectory you've seen in my most recent posts: a trajectory of new hope, of settling, of beginning to enjoy Honduras (or at least see positive things in it) and being here. Those certainly are true. But I'll still maintain that I'd rather be at home. I'd rather not have to try to make some place home. I'm certainly still frustrated by plenty in this country and culture, and I know from speaking with veterans (seasoned or otherwise) of being down here and teaching at IST that those frustrations always stick. I'm looking forward to the end of the year and have been since before the year even began. Some part of me does believe God has a plan for me to be down here and that this is where I'm supposed to be, but many other parts are still kicking and screaming as they get dragged along.
Sure, the people I work with are a lot of fun to hang around with after school and I have no hesitation in already naming many of the other North Americans among my friends. They are great people no matter what the context. And sure, I'd have met none of them if I hadn't come down here. It's fun to laugh at things that wouldn't happen were we not in a Spanish speaking culture, such as my friend Jenny ordering chicken-flavored soda with her meal yesterday. Sure, a trip to the mall in a group of white people in Honduras is hardly any different than in the States. Well, I take that back: I can't rightly say I ever went to the mall in a group (of white people or otherwise) back in the States. But you get what I'm saying. Life with the fellow teachers really is a lot of fun.
Sure, Honduran 11th graders within the context of the classroom behave hardly any differently from average high school classes in West Michigan. You've got your overachievers, your underachievers, your students you couldn't pay to read a book, your troublemakers, your wily teacher-distracters who get you off track. Some of the grammatical struggles are different from 11th graders back home, and I more frequently have to ask students to repeat themselves because fans are a necessity (I misspelled that word on one of my presentations this week and was corrected by a student) and because they speak quietly and with varying degrees of accent. But my classes are relateable, and I've deeloped a running joke that their comparative government teacher who graduated from Hope, Mr. Manting, and I have a bona-fide feud going on. Sure, I may feel entirely overwhelmed as I look at the coming year and planning for it; making curriculum that is effective, makes sense, and interests my students; and maintaining positive relationships with all my students, in the classroom and in the hallways, but I do know these are struggles that I'd face in Holland or Grand Rapids.
I have a great amount of homework to do. It's not grading, it's reading journals. A bunch of reading. I'm actually interested in it, but it's an overwhelming amount of work to face down. On top of that, I have to still do copious amounts of planning, including what exactly I'm going to do for an hour and a half come the time students walk into my room at 7:15 Monday. There's plenty I'd like to continue sharing here, but I suppose I ought to set priorities straight. Readers, rest assured: I'd still rather be in the U.S., but it's easier to do what I ought to be doing since I am here now than it was a week ago. Maybe because back then I was still on vacation.
You may be thinking that this last paragraph is a hiccup in the trajectory you've seen in my most recent posts: a trajectory of new hope, of settling, of beginning to enjoy Honduras (or at least see positive things in it) and being here. Those certainly are true. But I'll still maintain that I'd rather be at home. I'd rather not have to try to make some place home. I'm certainly still frustrated by plenty in this country and culture, and I know from speaking with veterans (seasoned or otherwise) of being down here and teaching at IST that those frustrations always stick. I'm looking forward to the end of the year and have been since before the year even began. Some part of me does believe God has a plan for me to be down here and that this is where I'm supposed to be, but many other parts are still kicking and screaming as they get dragged along.
Sure, the people I work with are a lot of fun to hang around with after school and I have no hesitation in already naming many of the other North Americans among my friends. They are great people no matter what the context. And sure, I'd have met none of them if I hadn't come down here. It's fun to laugh at things that wouldn't happen were we not in a Spanish speaking culture, such as my friend Jenny ordering chicken-flavored soda with her meal yesterday. Sure, a trip to the mall in a group of white people in Honduras is hardly any different than in the States. Well, I take that back: I can't rightly say I ever went to the mall in a group (of white people or otherwise) back in the States. But you get what I'm saying. Life with the fellow teachers really is a lot of fun.
Sure, Honduran 11th graders within the context of the classroom behave hardly any differently from average high school classes in West Michigan. You've got your overachievers, your underachievers, your students you couldn't pay to read a book, your troublemakers, your wily teacher-distracters who get you off track. Some of the grammatical struggles are different from 11th graders back home, and I more frequently have to ask students to repeat themselves because fans are a necessity (I misspelled that word on one of my presentations this week and was corrected by a student) and because they speak quietly and with varying degrees of accent. But my classes are relateable, and I've deeloped a running joke that their comparative government teacher who graduated from Hope, Mr. Manting, and I have a bona-fide feud going on. Sure, I may feel entirely overwhelmed as I look at the coming year and planning for it; making curriculum that is effective, makes sense, and interests my students; and maintaining positive relationships with all my students, in the classroom and in the hallways, but I do know these are struggles that I'd face in Holland or Grand Rapids.
I have a great amount of homework to do. It's not grading, it's reading journals. A bunch of reading. I'm actually interested in it, but it's an overwhelming amount of work to face down. On top of that, I have to still do copious amounts of planning, including what exactly I'm going to do for an hour and a half come the time students walk into my room at 7:15 Monday. There's plenty I'd like to continue sharing here, but I suppose I ought to set priorities straight. Readers, rest assured: I'd still rather be in the U.S., but it's easier to do what I ought to be doing since I am here now than it was a week ago. Maybe because back then I was still on vacation.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
...writing for the first time in a long time
6:30 in Satelite
The overcast sky uneven
uneven as the terrain below
hills poke out from behind casas
in ways unexpected
passing by the watchymen with
a "buenas" as they man their gate
with machetes and radio
spittle of rain flecks the atmosphere
and I barely notice.
A left turn at the pulpería
as a noisy truck roars down the distant Anillo--
as if it's giving permission at
break of day the other loud vehicles
rouse in unison in all
directions around the
neighborhood as I maneuver
round cars parked on the narrow
sidewalk already encroached by
hedges and palmeras that brush
my shoulder and the far-off rooster
and nearby geese complete the score
for the otherwise silent morning of
Tegucigalpa, already daylit but
the sun several hours off yet coming
stucco walls sectioned off by paint
color and occasional "Claro" logos
line every street on both sides,
enclosing me on three but los
nubes are still above and even not
for long-- the fourth side always full
of promise, full of Dios, llena
de la paz de esta mañana as I
near my designated colored section
the morning, the city, mi ser
quizás empiece a cambiar.
The overcast sky uneven
uneven as the terrain below
hills poke out from behind casas
in ways unexpected
passing by the watchymen with
a "buenas" as they man their gate
with machetes and radio
spittle of rain flecks the atmosphere
and I barely notice.
A left turn at the pulpería
as a noisy truck roars down the distant Anillo--
as if it's giving permission at
break of day the other loud vehicles
rouse in unison in all
directions around the
neighborhood as I maneuver
round cars parked on the narrow
sidewalk already encroached by
hedges and palmeras that brush
my shoulder and the far-off rooster
and nearby geese complete the score
for the otherwise silent morning of
Tegucigalpa, already daylit but
the sun several hours off yet coming
stucco walls sectioned off by paint
color and occasional "Claro" logos
line every street on both sides,
enclosing me on three but los
nubes are still above and even not
for long-- the fourth side always full
of promise, full of Dios, llena
de la paz de esta mañana as I
near my designated colored section
the morning, the city, mi ser
quizás empiece a cambiar.
Monday, August 24, 2009
...and I may just be a teacher
Today was the first day. And it went well. I can honestly say that around 7:57 this morning, as the 6th-11th graders gathered in the polideportivo (semi-outdoor gymnasium, more or less), I actually felt excited. I have a great deal to work on, and planning will be a constant struggle, but there are real students I will see every day to do that for. I think this may be the difference.
Haggai 2:4-5 says "'Be strong, all you people of the land,' declares the Lord, 'and work. For I am with you,' declares the Lord Almighty...'And my Spirit remains among you. Do not fear.'" This is said to the Israelites as they were rebuilding the Temple after returning from exile, as they were doing work for the sole purpose of glorifying God. In the Old Testament especially, when God told you "I am with you," that is a sure indication of success. I used this passage as my initial devotional for my first class today. I remembered this passage last night, and felt very comforted by it. It's no exaggeration to say I'm doing work to glorify God, and so God's promise to be with me, to guarantee success, applies to me, as well. And I believe it applies to my students. I hope I can instill that belief in them, too.
Things may once again be looking up. Let's hope it continues. I'll keep updating as I feel the fort held down.
Haggai 2:4-5 says "'Be strong, all you people of the land,' declares the Lord, 'and work. For I am with you,' declares the Lord Almighty...'And my Spirit remains among you. Do not fear.'" This is said to the Israelites as they were rebuilding the Temple after returning from exile, as they were doing work for the sole purpose of glorifying God. In the Old Testament especially, when God told you "I am with you," that is a sure indication of success. I used this passage as my initial devotional for my first class today. I remembered this passage last night, and felt very comforted by it. It's no exaggeration to say I'm doing work to glorify God, and so God's promise to be with me, to guarantee success, applies to me, as well. And I believe it applies to my students. I hope I can instill that belief in them, too.
Things may once again be looking up. Let's hope it continues. I'll keep updating as I feel the fort held down.
Friday, August 21, 2009
...but i'm not doing what I came here to do
Morale is very low. I am almost entirely unmotivated for my job - even the sheer fact that I am meeting students and their parents tomorrow at a school open house is not encouraging me to get done what I need to get done. I feel I have lost whatever skills in teaching I once had, simply because of the change in context of a new culture and different expectations at the school from what I'm used to. Lesson planning has yet to get off the ground after a week of trying, and my first lessons are on Monday. My guidelines for what to teach are painfully open-ended. I've already been told that that's a luxury, but not in my opinion. I like being able to work in within boundaries, because otherwise I am going to do something wrong. My fear of doing that has essentially paralyzed me, I feel. On top of that, even when I am working towards finally finishing something, much of this week has been spent working on getting things in my classroom simply fixed up or going through trainings for things that up until today were hardly working consistently. I feel directionless, and so I have been trying not to go in any direction, it seems.
The culture still has not grown on me. In fact, I kinda hate it. I'll admit, I feel like a spoiled American, but knowing that certainly does not bother me as much as the sheer inconveniences of a country this poor as well as the typical Latino characteristics I have observed in other countries as well - unclear, mostly made-up responses to questions because no one wants to impolitely say "I don't know," even though the misdirection is more inconvenient than anything; lax timing; and even as a male, the machismo culture really bothers me when I am with female teachers from the school. Again, I hate how long everything seems to take, even to go to the grocery store. Stores seem to have a ton of a few things, but none of something else you would expect to find in the same section (I went to Diunsa yesterday - something of an equivalent to Target, located right next to a burned-out Popeye's (a casualty from demonstrations a within the last month) - and the school/office supply section had an entire aisle filled with spiral notebooks of all kinds, but I could not find a single pack of rubber bands anywhere). I know that any culture takes time to get used to, but I really don't like the 1-2 punch of new culture + first year of teaching.
On top of all of this, I have been having concerns even about my choice of teaching as a career in the first place. I have been trying to read a recommended book called The First Days of School which, though rather disjointed and lacking coherent flow throughout a chapter, has a lot of interesting "nuggets" stacked end to end - things you could find on inspirational teacher cards and the like. Anyway, at one point in a colored box it said, among other things, "Teachers universally say they go into teaching to make a difference." I don't think I can say that is why I wanted to go into teaching. I wanted to go into teaching because I never wanted to leave high school in the first place. I went into teaching because I really like books and it's really hard to find someone who just wants to discuss one. I went into teaching because there's not a whole lot of career-oriented stuff that I'm interested in besides books and language. I didn't go into teaching thinking my classes would change the world or even change a student's world. I honestly didn't. I thought I was a funny guy who could have a captive audience whom I could impress and, sure, maybe make them think about things a bit differently. But my motives I have to say have been almost entirely selfish. I understand the impactful nature that teaching possesses, but that's simply something that comes with the territory in my estimation. Impact isn't why I got into it. I have no grand illusions of changing the world or doing something drastic, and somehow I've ended up in the most drastic thing of my life, something I can't say I ever actively wanted but stayed the course toward because I thought I could grow to want. That hasn't happened, and now I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing here.
When Honduras came up in the first place, I had no idea what I wanted. Well, I had ideas, but no real control over making those things a reality. I applied because I knew Kristin would be down here, and so it would have to be better than going anywhere without knowing someone. (Kristin has been invaluable already down here; I can't imagine it without her - I'd already be on a plane home. Heck, I'd have never gotten on the plane down.) I honestly, truly feel I've made a mistake. Going on the assumption that I'd feel better as the time approached was a mistake. Despite my continued doubts, everyone I told (save 2, only on singular occasions) insisted it'd be great and I'd feel it was right in time. Although I did not completely believe this as I felt no spark of possible positivity, I found it hard to blatantly go against what everyone told me. I let what I was telling myself be overpowered by what everyone else was telling me, and now I feel alternately miserable and paralyzed. I'm going to trust in myself and my gut more in the future.
If you are one of those people I just mentioned, don't think I am saying anything bad about you or that I harbor ill will. I know you all called it like you saw it, and said things I needed to hear. You may even end up right yet. I just don't see that now.
So much for brevity.
The culture still has not grown on me. In fact, I kinda hate it. I'll admit, I feel like a spoiled American, but knowing that certainly does not bother me as much as the sheer inconveniences of a country this poor as well as the typical Latino characteristics I have observed in other countries as well - unclear, mostly made-up responses to questions because no one wants to impolitely say "I don't know," even though the misdirection is more inconvenient than anything; lax timing; and even as a male, the machismo culture really bothers me when I am with female teachers from the school. Again, I hate how long everything seems to take, even to go to the grocery store. Stores seem to have a ton of a few things, but none of something else you would expect to find in the same section (I went to Diunsa yesterday - something of an equivalent to Target, located right next to a burned-out Popeye's (a casualty from demonstrations a within the last month) - and the school/office supply section had an entire aisle filled with spiral notebooks of all kinds, but I could not find a single pack of rubber bands anywhere). I know that any culture takes time to get used to, but I really don't like the 1-2 punch of new culture + first year of teaching.
On top of all of this, I have been having concerns even about my choice of teaching as a career in the first place. I have been trying to read a recommended book called The First Days of School which, though rather disjointed and lacking coherent flow throughout a chapter, has a lot of interesting "nuggets" stacked end to end - things you could find on inspirational teacher cards and the like. Anyway, at one point in a colored box it said, among other things, "Teachers universally say they go into teaching to make a difference." I don't think I can say that is why I wanted to go into teaching. I wanted to go into teaching because I never wanted to leave high school in the first place. I went into teaching because I really like books and it's really hard to find someone who just wants to discuss one. I went into teaching because there's not a whole lot of career-oriented stuff that I'm interested in besides books and language. I didn't go into teaching thinking my classes would change the world or even change a student's world. I honestly didn't. I thought I was a funny guy who could have a captive audience whom I could impress and, sure, maybe make them think about things a bit differently. But my motives I have to say have been almost entirely selfish. I understand the impactful nature that teaching possesses, but that's simply something that comes with the territory in my estimation. Impact isn't why I got into it. I have no grand illusions of changing the world or doing something drastic, and somehow I've ended up in the most drastic thing of my life, something I can't say I ever actively wanted but stayed the course toward because I thought I could grow to want. That hasn't happened, and now I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing here.
When Honduras came up in the first place, I had no idea what I wanted. Well, I had ideas, but no real control over making those things a reality. I applied because I knew Kristin would be down here, and so it would have to be better than going anywhere without knowing someone. (Kristin has been invaluable already down here; I can't imagine it without her - I'd already be on a plane home. Heck, I'd have never gotten on the plane down.) I honestly, truly feel I've made a mistake. Going on the assumption that I'd feel better as the time approached was a mistake. Despite my continued doubts, everyone I told (save 2, only on singular occasions) insisted it'd be great and I'd feel it was right in time. Although I did not completely believe this as I felt no spark of possible positivity, I found it hard to blatantly go against what everyone told me. I let what I was telling myself be overpowered by what everyone else was telling me, and now I feel alternately miserable and paralyzed. I'm going to trust in myself and my gut more in the future.
If you are one of those people I just mentioned, don't think I am saying anything bad about you or that I harbor ill will. I know you all called it like you saw it, and said things I needed to hear. You may even end up right yet. I just don't see that now.
So much for brevity.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
...but I'm still wordy
This evening I was (jokingly) called long-winded and/or rambling, which was funny, because I am not very outspoken in groups of people apart from a few puns about which I always concurrently feel bad and proud. However, I know in writing, my prose is inflated and I am a master of tangents. (My students will love me for that.) I feel especially for the average blog reader, this is unappealing and inconvenient. I'm going to try to pare my prose, but please understand that this blog is as much for my own benefit as it is for any of you (sorry if that's a kick in the face), so sometimes especially troubling posts (such as one I want to compose very soon) will necessarily be longer. I'm hoping this may lead to more feedback, as well.
I'm stressed out already, and short on sleep, and feeling rudderless as regards the first day on Monday. On top of it, we had very little time to actually work today. I did not have a good attitude. Something else occurred to me (see forthcoming, previously mentioned post), and so it was a downer of a day at school.
However, this afternoon and evening, we split into groups and toured around the city with Bobby, a former teacher at IST. We rode in his truck to Plaza Miraflores (no pictures taken tonight, so don't expect any. Other pics are going to be on their way, rest assured), passing by some demonstrators on the way, which made all of us gringos uneasy. We took a detour after a while to get away from the Mel Zelaya "supporters" (many of them don't really care; they're simply anarchist sorts of folks who want to rile things because there's some semblance of excuse to do it) and on a more peaceful tack. We arrived at our restaurant, then hired a cab to head down to the main centro of the city in the meantime. After walking around a bit, seeing the central post office and national theatre, we found another cab and headed back to the restaurant (The Patio or some such name), where we had a wonderful meal of beef and/or chicken kebabs, along with chips with great melted cheese and beans, as well as some other fried appetizer dealies. It was delicious, and the whole excursion improved my disposition markedly.
I will say that the city, while beautiful sprawled across hill-and mountainsides in the daylight, is strangely gorgeous at night with lights playing games with warped perspectives in the darkness.
I'm exhausted, as I said, and I need to work with waning modern attention spans. I shall try for quality as well as quantity (in number of posts, not length) in the future.
I'm stressed out already, and short on sleep, and feeling rudderless as regards the first day on Monday. On top of it, we had very little time to actually work today. I did not have a good attitude. Something else occurred to me (see forthcoming, previously mentioned post), and so it was a downer of a day at school.
However, this afternoon and evening, we split into groups and toured around the city with Bobby, a former teacher at IST. We rode in his truck to Plaza Miraflores (no pictures taken tonight, so don't expect any. Other pics are going to be on their way, rest assured), passing by some demonstrators on the way, which made all of us gringos uneasy. We took a detour after a while to get away from the Mel Zelaya "supporters" (many of them don't really care; they're simply anarchist sorts of folks who want to rile things because there's some semblance of excuse to do it) and on a more peaceful tack. We arrived at our restaurant, then hired a cab to head down to the main centro of the city in the meantime. After walking around a bit, seeing the central post office and national theatre, we found another cab and headed back to the restaurant (The Patio or some such name), where we had a wonderful meal of beef and/or chicken kebabs, along with chips with great melted cheese and beans, as well as some other fried appetizer dealies. It was delicious, and the whole excursion improved my disposition markedly.
I will say that the city, while beautiful sprawled across hill-and mountainsides in the daylight, is strangely gorgeous at night with lights playing games with warped perspectives in the darkness.
I'm exhausted, as I said, and I need to work with waning modern attention spans. I shall try for quality as well as quantity (in number of posts, not length) in the future.
Monday, August 17, 2009
...hitting the ground running
I've been in Honduras for...not even 60 hours, so there hasn't been much time period, but I feel already that downtime is a luxury not to be wasted. My problem is deciding what constitutes wasting. Some of my readers know how poor I am at loading pictures from my camera to my computer, and then further on to the Internet. I don't consider that time wasted, but I'm not trained for it. I'd put pictures on this post, but it's quarter of ten and I have to wake up at quarter after 5 to catch the busito an hour later. I determined posting was better than loading pictures I wouldn't end up posting anyway.
Things take time here. Fortunately, many of my fellow teachers live nearby - as the crow flies. Given that I can neither fly like a crow, nor even drive, walking is what I'll generally have to rely on. On top of this (now, I'm not complaining as a guy, since I know it's gotta be frustrating to be female and not be able to walk by oneself) it's likely going to be necessary to backtrack by escorting the ladies. Example (and again, I'm not complaining - it's a sheer fact of life and I'm happy to do it): Today Kristin and I walked to La Despensa, a grocery store, just to see where it was and what it was like. (Another caveat: we didn't particularly have this in mind; we did merely want to walk around and get our bearings.) Kristin's house is a 10-minute walk in one direction. La Despensa is 10 minutes in the other. So I walked to Kristin's, then we walked back to and past my place to La Despensa, checked it out (we didn't even buy anything), and then walked back, all the way to Kristin's, and I still had another walk ahead of me. I'm sure things will become more efficient as we still settle, but after my excursion with Kristin and then playing a game of Settlers of Catan (I knew I'd find people who enjoy it! Purchases validated!) it was time to start thinking about bed, and writing this post. Things take time, and I have to reeeaaallly work on managing it.
I haven't even talked about the real reason I'm down here - the school. We had our first day of orientation today, and I set foot inside my classroom (a good blogger would post the pictures he took of the various things he mentions here, pictures I did indeed take). Not a lot to it, with the one real exception of a SmartBoard, which I'll explain for you all some time. We had a few meetings and toured the school. I am admittedly impressed with the vistas the position of the school affords. (Again with the unhelpful, unillustrated blogging.) Perhaps some day those views will grow stale, but I in my pessimism can't even jump ahead to those days yet. There was ample time to settle into our classrooms, but I do not have much settling to do - I brought down very few "accessories" so to speak. I'm quite sure I can look for some given things down here, but again getting around is a challenge and at this point downright foolish depending on how I go about it.
I'm really hoping to get more support on my curriculum in the next few days. Of course, it's very hard to realize that many of my fellow teachers haven't even had educational training, haven't had to plan a lesson before, and things must be even more seemingly up in the air and incoherent for them right now (and almost everyone has more preps than I do). But I'm still getting hung up on the facts that my students come from a culture I have only been in for several dozen hours, that I don't have freedom to print my own stuff at my leisure, that I cannot run to Meijer and pick up some random supply I may (or may not, for that matter) end up needing, that I can't stay at school as long as I want (easily, at least) to plan in that space later as needed. Perhaps I would come up with as many perceived blockades between me and my finished curriculum even were I in the nicest of West Michigan schools, but I'm especially uncomfortable with not knowing the students' culture. As an outsider, I feel I'll have a really hard time feeling entitled to teach them, if that makes sense. I wish I could expound on that thought, but my brain just farted.
I need to find a way to create downtime, but as it stands already, I'm not sure where actual planning will come into play. I want to say so much more, but stuff just got real.
One more thing: if you are a twitterer (which I hardly am yet myself), I feel like some of my random observations and notes may be better suited to Twitter, so I cannot let myself go off on tangents without coming here. So keep an eye out at @aarone46 and some day, when I give myself the right kind of downtime, I may even figure out a module that posts my recent tweets right here! (Some folks may ask what's wrong with my facebook status updates. Well, they feel less permanent to me. And when I get a line as good as "expedited digestion," I'd like some posterity.)
Things take time here. Fortunately, many of my fellow teachers live nearby - as the crow flies. Given that I can neither fly like a crow, nor even drive, walking is what I'll generally have to rely on. On top of this (now, I'm not complaining as a guy, since I know it's gotta be frustrating to be female and not be able to walk by oneself) it's likely going to be necessary to backtrack by escorting the ladies. Example (and again, I'm not complaining - it's a sheer fact of life and I'm happy to do it): Today Kristin and I walked to La Despensa, a grocery store, just to see where it was and what it was like. (Another caveat: we didn't particularly have this in mind; we did merely want to walk around and get our bearings.) Kristin's house is a 10-minute walk in one direction. La Despensa is 10 minutes in the other. So I walked to Kristin's, then we walked back to and past my place to La Despensa, checked it out (we didn't even buy anything), and then walked back, all the way to Kristin's, and I still had another walk ahead of me. I'm sure things will become more efficient as we still settle, but after my excursion with Kristin and then playing a game of Settlers of Catan (I knew I'd find people who enjoy it! Purchases validated!) it was time to start thinking about bed, and writing this post. Things take time, and I have to reeeaaallly work on managing it.
I haven't even talked about the real reason I'm down here - the school. We had our first day of orientation today, and I set foot inside my classroom (a good blogger would post the pictures he took of the various things he mentions here, pictures I did indeed take). Not a lot to it, with the one real exception of a SmartBoard, which I'll explain for you all some time. We had a few meetings and toured the school. I am admittedly impressed with the vistas the position of the school affords. (Again with the unhelpful, unillustrated blogging.) Perhaps some day those views will grow stale, but I in my pessimism can't even jump ahead to those days yet. There was ample time to settle into our classrooms, but I do not have much settling to do - I brought down very few "accessories" so to speak. I'm quite sure I can look for some given things down here, but again getting around is a challenge and at this point downright foolish depending on how I go about it.
I'm really hoping to get more support on my curriculum in the next few days. Of course, it's very hard to realize that many of my fellow teachers haven't even had educational training, haven't had to plan a lesson before, and things must be even more seemingly up in the air and incoherent for them right now (and almost everyone has more preps than I do). But I'm still getting hung up on the facts that my students come from a culture I have only been in for several dozen hours, that I don't have freedom to print my own stuff at my leisure, that I cannot run to Meijer and pick up some random supply I may (or may not, for that matter) end up needing, that I can't stay at school as long as I want (easily, at least) to plan in that space later as needed. Perhaps I would come up with as many perceived blockades between me and my finished curriculum even were I in the nicest of West Michigan schools, but I'm especially uncomfortable with not knowing the students' culture. As an outsider, I feel I'll have a really hard time feeling entitled to teach them, if that makes sense. I wish I could expound on that thought, but my brain just farted.
I need to find a way to create downtime, but as it stands already, I'm not sure where actual planning will come into play. I want to say so much more, but stuff just got real.
One more thing: if you are a twitterer (which I hardly am yet myself), I feel like some of my random observations and notes may be better suited to Twitter, so I cannot let myself go off on tangents without coming here. So keep an eye out at @aarone46 and some day, when I give myself the right kind of downtime, I may even figure out a module that posts my recent tweets right here! (Some folks may ask what's wrong with my facebook status updates. Well, they feel less permanent to me. And when I get a line as good as "expedited digestion," I'd like some posterity.)
Saturday, August 15, 2009
...as we speak - er, as I type
Well, I am indeed in Honduras. Have been for around 11 hours. I wanted to update this earlier today, but some issues with wireless setup and a dinner get-together poached my time and what little energy I still possessed. It's a very busy day tomorrow, but hopefully I'll be able to share some first impressions and descriptions of the trip down, especially the landing of the plane. All of you who are coming down to visit me (that's anybody reading this blog, right? Read the fine print. It's in there somewhere.) are in for a treat. I'll try to take and upload some pictures while I'm at it. But I'm here safely and have not had too much time to sulk...yet. It may be real, but I'm still not totally won over. I'm especially concerned about the period where an ordinary vacation duration would be drawing to a close, and I realize that I'm still here for 4 more months, and then 6 months after that. But I'm tired now, so there. I'm here.
Friday, August 14, 2009
...after a plane ride that commences in a matter of hours
15 hours, to be exact. I've had a lump in my gut all day, and much of last night. I don't think it's going to feel any better before I leave. I don't know if it will feel better even after I leave. I'll admit, not all of my agitation is strictly Honduras-related, but at any rate I am in a state.
I've reached weight limits in my checked luggage. I still have my carry-on to work with, and my "personal" item. But I have a good number of books yet to bring. It's going to be nip-and-tuck. I've investigated flat-rate boxes, so I may ship down some books or the like. We shall see.
I'm so sick of feeling pissy and whiny. Yet I find it immensely hard to work against those feelings. I wish I had more control over them.
My sister Dyann and her kids are coming over from Milwaukee this evening. I'm relieved I will get to see them before I leave.
Perhaps once I'm in Honduras I'll be able to achieve more coherence. But I'm in no coherent state right now.
I've reached weight limits in my checked luggage. I still have my carry-on to work with, and my "personal" item. But I have a good number of books yet to bring. It's going to be nip-and-tuck. I've investigated flat-rate boxes, so I may ship down some books or the like. We shall see.
I'm so sick of feeling pissy and whiny. Yet I find it immensely hard to work against those feelings. I wish I had more control over them.
My sister Dyann and her kids are coming over from Milwaukee this evening. I'm relieved I will get to see them before I leave.
Perhaps once I'm in Honduras I'll be able to achieve more coherence. But I'm in no coherent state right now.
Monday, August 10, 2009
...in FIVE days, but I have to pack...still
Holy crap, things just got really real. This morning I came to the realization I needed to get a letter of good health from a doctor, as well as proof of a clean criminal record/background check. My stepmom's doctor in Holland is a saint, because he's fitting me in on Thursday for the former, and I went to Allegan in search of the latter, but all I was able to procure I fear will not be sufficient, and I'm concerned about getting that still. On top of that, I have nearly all my packing to do. On top of that, all of Tuesday and half of Wednesday are occupied by a trip to Detroitland (doesn't roll of the tongue like Chicagoland, does it?) On top of all that, I'm blogging and websurfing instead of actually making myself more ready to leave the house at 3am on Saturday. Maybe I should fix this.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
...but I won't want to hear certain things about it
Things you should not say to me about going to Honduras:
1. "Congratulations!"
I do not consider my job offer at IST (International School Tegucigalpa: this is the only time I'll explain the acronym ever, so pay attention) to be an "achievement." As of an e-mail I received a few weeks ago, IST was still working on filling TWO more high school English positions. It seems that applicants are in short supply, so it says nearly nothing about my teaching chops (not to mention enthusiasm) that they'd offer me the job. Make no mistake: I don't mean to sound arrogant or "above" this job. I know I will be challenged. I know the job will be will be hard. I know nearly all of the teaching experiences I have will closely mirror any similar job in the States I could have. But I do not consider this a congratulable job; merely based on the qualifications I have as a college graduate and the dearth of competition, it was no hard-fought battle to nab this gig. Not to mention being congratulated for somehting you're not looking forward to provides an interesting cognitive dissonance.
2. "That's exciting!"
Besides being the nearly universal response to the news of an acquaintance leaving the country for an extended period of time and thus unappealing due to sheer repetitiveness, this exclamation, in my case, is patently untrue. I am not excited, therefore this quickly approaching departure and subsequent stay in Honduras is not exciting. If it were, I'd let you know. I admit, some people may say it because they are excited for me, which certainly is different, and these people probably have my best interests at heart even more than I do, because they are not blinded by such silly things as the anticipation of homesickness or the prospect of missing an entire season of Calvin SAO concerts and events (Oh my gosh. I just checked the Calvin SAO website: Sept. 18 - The Books perform. They are one of my favorite bands of all time. Any progress I may have made in the past few days in my attitude is lost.) I may be a man of relatively steady temperament - I never get uber enthusiastic or uber depressed - but there are a good number of things that actually excite me, however comparatively petty many of those things may be. I am a huge proponent of following the things that excite you, and Honduras is nearly a 180 degree turn in nearly all of these pursuits. Not exciting in the least.
3. "I know _______ who went to/is in Honduras/other Latin American country and s/he loves it!"
I am not them. In fact, I think I behave quite differently from most people who are likely to do any sort of teach/work abroad program. I don't strive to fly high or far. I doubt so-and-so dreaded (or fantasized about situations which could prevent them from) departing as consistently as I have. Don't get me wrong; I'm open to the possibility that I may end up loving Honduras, eat up every moment I have with my students and fellow teachers and in the town, forget all about anything I ever loved back in Michigan, and spend 9 years teaching at IST. I just don't see how that possibility has any legs whatsoever.
(I ran into problems posting this yesterday, and lost the remainder of the post. I'll recompose much of it, but a decent paragraph (which may turn into a post of its own) which once occupied this space is lost to the digital black hole of broken wireless connections.)
What should you say to me about Honduras without running the risk of me briefly thinking bad thoughts?
1. "Good Luck/Blessings/Etc."
Even a curmudgeon like me cannot reject the simple wish of success and fortune.
2. "I'll be praying for you."
This is pretty much all I can hope for from you all.
1. "Congratulations!"
I do not consider my job offer at IST (International School Tegucigalpa: this is the only time I'll explain the acronym ever, so pay attention) to be an "achievement." As of an e-mail I received a few weeks ago, IST was still working on filling TWO more high school English positions. It seems that applicants are in short supply, so it says nearly nothing about my teaching chops (not to mention enthusiasm) that they'd offer me the job. Make no mistake: I don't mean to sound arrogant or "above" this job. I know I will be challenged. I know the job will be will be hard. I know nearly all of the teaching experiences I have will closely mirror any similar job in the States I could have. But I do not consider this a congratulable job; merely based on the qualifications I have as a college graduate and the dearth of competition, it was no hard-fought battle to nab this gig. Not to mention being congratulated for somehting you're not looking forward to provides an interesting cognitive dissonance.
2. "That's exciting!"
Besides being the nearly universal response to the news of an acquaintance leaving the country for an extended period of time and thus unappealing due to sheer repetitiveness, this exclamation, in my case, is patently untrue. I am not excited, therefore this quickly approaching departure and subsequent stay in Honduras is not exciting. If it were, I'd let you know. I admit, some people may say it because they are excited for me, which certainly is different, and these people probably have my best interests at heart even more than I do, because they are not blinded by such silly things as the anticipation of homesickness or the prospect of missing an entire season of Calvin SAO concerts and events (Oh my gosh. I just checked the Calvin SAO website: Sept. 18 - The Books perform. They are one of my favorite bands of all time. Any progress I may have made in the past few days in my attitude is lost.) I may be a man of relatively steady temperament - I never get uber enthusiastic or uber depressed - but there are a good number of things that actually excite me, however comparatively petty many of those things may be. I am a huge proponent of following the things that excite you, and Honduras is nearly a 180 degree turn in nearly all of these pursuits. Not exciting in the least.
3. "I know _______ who went to/is in Honduras/other Latin American country and s/he loves it!"
I am not them. In fact, I think I behave quite differently from most people who are likely to do any sort of teach/work abroad program. I don't strive to fly high or far. I doubt so-and-so dreaded (or fantasized about situations which could prevent them from) departing as consistently as I have. Don't get me wrong; I'm open to the possibility that I may end up loving Honduras, eat up every moment I have with my students and fellow teachers and in the town, forget all about anything I ever loved back in Michigan, and spend 9 years teaching at IST. I just don't see how that possibility has any legs whatsoever.
(I ran into problems posting this yesterday, and lost the remainder of the post. I'll recompose much of it, but a decent paragraph (which may turn into a post of its own) which once occupied this space is lost to the digital black hole of broken wireless connections.)
What should you say to me about Honduras without running the risk of me briefly thinking bad thoughts?
1. "Good Luck/Blessings/Etc."
Even a curmudgeon like me cannot reject the simple wish of success and fortune.
2. "I'll be praying for you."
This is pretty much all I can hope for from you all.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
...with a bona-fide, full-blown, packed teaching curriculum
While I make no promises to avoid the negative attitude that permeated my previous post (example: musing that any serious automobile crashes in the next few days would be a cloud that comes with its own ready-made silver lining in that I'd have an excuse to not go to Honduras as planned), I figure that too much of any one thing will make this blog unreadable. I've already taken this stance in my interpersonal relationships: while I still may be inclined to piss and moan to anybody I talk with, I've determined that if I do that too much (especially considering that I'm bound to repeat myself copiously with a limited number of objections, however strong those may be), no one will want to hang out with me and I risk jeopardizing my friendships, which are one of the major reasons I don't want to leave in the first place. If you're still with me through that babble, I've decided to outline my actual job in Tegucigalpa, as well as some of the preparations I'm doing for it.
I'll be teaching 11th grade English at International School, a Christian Pre-K-12 (I believe there's pre-K, perhaps not) School in Tegucigalpa, Honduras. It is affiliated with ACSI, for those of you interested. It is a bilingual school of around 1000 students, in which most of the subject matter is taught in English with the exception of Español and Estudias Sociales, which make sense (or are nationally mandated) to be taught in Spanish. Everything else is taught by English speakers, primarily North Americans, from what I've gathered.
I will be teaching 11th grade English in a class the structure of which closely resembles an average English class in the States. One interesting feature of the structure, however, is that I meet with each of my 3 groups of students for 45-minute periods, 7 times a week, meaning I will see a given section more than once per day. Each period is devoted to a different strand of English Language Arts: 3-4 periods a week are for reading and dealing with literature (more on that to come); 1-2 per week are devoted to writing skills, mechanics, and the like, much of which will be related to the current reading; 1 period each week will be spent dealing with grammar, vocabulary, usage, and so on (the students, despite having learned mostly in English for 11 years, are not native speakers, not to mention that most American students can always use more of this practice); finally the last remaining period is for practice in speaking and discussion, in preparation for such things as college/scholarship interviews as well as more general public speaking.
I have recieved a lengthy "syllabus" with general guidelines and course objectives for each of these strands, but I think I shall focus merely on the literature strand at this point as I know more specific information is forthcoming once I get down there, not to mention that it's what provides the most interest for the average English teacher, I feel--the books you get to teach generally are the centerpiece of a course, although each aspect is (or should be) equally important. So, here's what I'll be teaching:
Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer. A true story of Krakauer's participation in an ultimately fatal trek to the top of Mt. Everest. His group reached the summit shortly before an unexpected storm caught several of his companions, including his guides, unawares and resulted in their deaths. Krakauer had been on the expedition to write a magazine article on the commercialization of extreme mountaineering, but ended up with much, much more to say. I had not read this before, and I'm currently reading it - ~50 pages in at the time of writing. It's quite interesting and very discussable, but I'm wondering what sort of objectives should be associated with the book in regards to my students.
The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Taking place in Salem, Massachussets, Hester Prynne is alienated by her fellow townspeople for being an adulteress and is forced to wear a brilliantly colored initial on her clothing at all times. Despite Hawthorne being one of my favorite early American authors, I have never read this. Knowing it's a "classic" taught in many English curricula, I'm eager to finally have an excuse to put it at the top of my "to-read" queue.
Lord of the Flies by William Golding. Yet another ubiquitous English class choice I had not read before, Lord of the Flies tells the story of a couple dozen British schoolboys stranded on a deserted island after...something bad happened. (Golding doesn't care to fill his readers in on backstory, preferring to let them decide for themselves, apparently.) Simultaneously thrilled by the lack of outside adult authority and distressed by the grim, slim chances of rescue, the boys illustrate the inherent flaws in human nature as well as the unsteady footing the concept of civilation constantly stands on. I recently finished this, and was viscerally affected by certain points of the narrative, which says something about the power of the writing, coming from this generally disaffected reader
and viewer. I also appreciate the ability to watch clips from The Simpsons in illustration of the book!
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. One of my favorite books of all time, especially to teach, Harper Lee's only novel (to date, yet most likely ever) displays powerful examples of the Depression-era small-town South, the rampant racism thereof, familial relationships (of both astoundingly good and depressingly bad varieties), growing up, and of course food-related school play costumes. I hope I will get a chance to show at least portions of the nearly-equally-good film, but either way I am eager to revisit the centerpiece of my student teaching experience.
Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck. Yet another of my favorite authors, Steinbeck creates brilliant characters, including George and Lenny of this particular novel. It's been several years since I read this, but I look forward to exploring the relationship between the sly, smart, perhaps shifty George and the not-all-there, frighteningly strong, kitten-obsessed Lenny as they search for work in early 1900s California.
All right. I've spent far more time on this entry than I intended. I should be reading Into Thin Air as it is, so I will sign off here. Suffice it to say, when I emphasize less the Honduras part and more the teaching part, teaching in Honduras may not look less big and imposing, but it certainly looks more along the lines of what I should be doing. Don't think I'm coming around yet, though.
I'll be teaching 11th grade English at International School, a Christian Pre-K-12 (I believe there's pre-K, perhaps not) School in Tegucigalpa, Honduras. It is affiliated with ACSI, for those of you interested. It is a bilingual school of around 1000 students, in which most of the subject matter is taught in English with the exception of Español and Estudias Sociales, which make sense (or are nationally mandated) to be taught in Spanish. Everything else is taught by English speakers, primarily North Americans, from what I've gathered.
I will be teaching 11th grade English in a class the structure of which closely resembles an average English class in the States. One interesting feature of the structure, however, is that I meet with each of my 3 groups of students for 45-minute periods, 7 times a week, meaning I will see a given section more than once per day. Each period is devoted to a different strand of English Language Arts: 3-4 periods a week are for reading and dealing with literature (more on that to come); 1-2 per week are devoted to writing skills, mechanics, and the like, much of which will be related to the current reading; 1 period each week will be spent dealing with grammar, vocabulary, usage, and so on (the students, despite having learned mostly in English for 11 years, are not native speakers, not to mention that most American students can always use more of this practice); finally the last remaining period is for practice in speaking and discussion, in preparation for such things as college/scholarship interviews as well as more general public speaking.
I have recieved a lengthy "syllabus" with general guidelines and course objectives for each of these strands, but I think I shall focus merely on the literature strand at this point as I know more specific information is forthcoming once I get down there, not to mention that it's what provides the most interest for the average English teacher, I feel--the books you get to teach generally are the centerpiece of a course, although each aspect is (or should be) equally important. So, here's what I'll be teaching:
Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer. A true story of Krakauer's participation in an ultimately fatal trek to the top of Mt. Everest. His group reached the summit shortly before an unexpected storm caught several of his companions, including his guides, unawares and resulted in their deaths. Krakauer had been on the expedition to write a magazine article on the commercialization of extreme mountaineering, but ended up with much, much more to say. I had not read this before, and I'm currently reading it - ~50 pages in at the time of writing. It's quite interesting and very discussable, but I'm wondering what sort of objectives should be associated with the book in regards to my students.The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Taking place in Salem, Massachussets, Hester Prynne is alienated by her fellow townspeople for being an adulteress and is forced to wear a brilliantly colored initial on her clothing at all times. Despite Hawthorne being one of my favorite early American authors, I have never read this. Knowing it's a "classic" taught in many English curricula, I'm eager to finally have an excuse to put it at the top of my "to-read" queue.Lord of the Flies by William Golding. Yet another ubiquitous English class choice I had not read before, Lord of the Flies tells the story of a couple dozen British schoolboys stranded on a deserted island after...something bad happened. (Golding doesn't care to fill his readers in on backstory, preferring to let them decide for themselves, apparently.) Simultaneously thrilled by the lack of outside adult authority and distressed by the grim, slim chances of rescue, the boys illustrate the inherent flaws in human nature as well as the unsteady footing the concept of civilation constantly stands on. I recently finished this, and was viscerally affected by certain points of the narrative, which says something about the power of the writing, coming from this generally disaffected readerand viewer. I also appreciate the ability to watch clips from The Simpsons in illustration of the book!
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. One of my favorite books of all time, especially to teach, Harper Lee's only novel (to date, yet most likely ever) displays powerful examples of the Depression-era small-town South, the rampant racism thereof, familial relationships (of both astoundingly good and depressingly bad varieties), growing up, and of course food-related school play costumes. I hope I will get a chance to show at least portions of the nearly-equally-good film, but either way I am eager to revisit the centerpiece of my student teaching experience.Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck. Yet another of my favorite authors, Steinbeck creates brilliant characters, including George and Lenny of this particular novel. It's been several years since I read this, but I look forward to exploring the relationship between the sly, smart, perhaps shifty George and the not-all-there, frighteningly strong, kitten-obsessed Lenny as they search for work in early 1900s California.All right. I've spent far more time on this entry than I intended. I should be reading Into Thin Air as it is, so I will sign off here. Suffice it to say, when I emphasize less the Honduras part and more the teaching part, teaching in Honduras may not look less big and imposing, but it certainly looks more along the lines of what I should be doing. Don't think I'm coming around yet, though.
Monday, August 3, 2009
...with a pretty bad attitude
All right, I haven't been as diligent as I'd hoped. But when I'm living in a house without Internet access, the times I do have Internet are infrequent and brief enough that I am not up to blogging if I even manage to finish my other actually pressing online matters. Now that I've successfully excused myself, I can move on...
So it's no secret I'm not looking forward to my impending move, now 13 days in the future. Any person I've spoken with this summer about Honduras knows this. I'm not one for false enthusiasm. I also admit that much of my reasons behind my negative attitudes are relatively immature and unfounded. I'm getting extremely hung-up on the things I will miss back in Michigan - people, concerts, activities, the sights of and act of driving around (I've spent my life, or at least the driving portion of it, getting to know the geography of West Michigan and knowing where things are, figuring out how to get places, determining relative locations of things, and so on. It's kind of weird and certainly nerdy, but it's something I take pride in and value nonetheless.) Everyone tells me not to focus on the stuff I will be missing, but look toward the stuff I would be missing out on if I didn't go to Honduras. The thing is, I've made it this far without experiencing those things, so I don't feel like I've been missing anything or would be if I didn't go.
I've been building a life here in West Michigan. I've lived here my whole life. I've invested things into life here. I value things here. I love many people here. I love "the people" here, meaning I appreciate the community and the way people live. I feel there is much more for me to do here. I hesitate to say "I'm comfortable here," because I do know God doesn't call us to merely be comfortable, but "I'm comfortable here" does run through my mind nonetheless.
To be honest (and I know how horrible this sounds...trust me, I've thought many horrible things over this summer because of Honduras looming on the horizon), I'm not expecting any aspect of life in Honduras to outdo the same aspect of life back here in West Michigan. The two reasons I applied to International School in the first place are because I was positive I would get a job and because my friend Kristin had already accepted a job there. If I had to do it over, I would not have applied. I don't think it's good that I'm going down there with such low expectations - I have a habit of self-fulfilling my own prophecies, and if this becomes the case once I'm in Honduras, not only will I find myself miserable, but I'll also be destined to be a lousy teacher because of it. My friend Anne verbally kicked my butt a couple weeks ago with that point and several others. Students can easily tell if their teachers are not into their own teaching, and if that is the case, the teaching automatically loses its value. No set of students deserves that, and I do fear that may be the case. But as I've said, I'm not feeling enthusiasm and I'm not into manufacturing it. So at this point I fear I may find myself at an impasse of not wanting to let my future students down, but not being able to put myself into a mindset where I wouldn't be destined to do just that.
I'm going to cut off the negativity train of thought at this point. It's been rather disjointed anyway, and anybody still reading likely wouldn't care to read any more. I hope I can compose some posts that actually serve a purpose other than allowing me to wallow in self-pity before I head out. I feel there are so many things I ought to tell my soon-to-be-devoted readers (I've only given the web address to one or two people so far), but then again, I know there are so many things I need to actually accomplish within the next two weeks, so we'll see how it goes.
So it's no secret I'm not looking forward to my impending move, now 13 days in the future. Any person I've spoken with this summer about Honduras knows this. I'm not one for false enthusiasm. I also admit that much of my reasons behind my negative attitudes are relatively immature and unfounded. I'm getting extremely hung-up on the things I will miss back in Michigan - people, concerts, activities, the sights of and act of driving around (I've spent my life, or at least the driving portion of it, getting to know the geography of West Michigan and knowing where things are, figuring out how to get places, determining relative locations of things, and so on. It's kind of weird and certainly nerdy, but it's something I take pride in and value nonetheless.) Everyone tells me not to focus on the stuff I will be missing, but look toward the stuff I would be missing out on if I didn't go to Honduras. The thing is, I've made it this far without experiencing those things, so I don't feel like I've been missing anything or would be if I didn't go.
I've been building a life here in West Michigan. I've lived here my whole life. I've invested things into life here. I value things here. I love many people here. I love "the people" here, meaning I appreciate the community and the way people live. I feel there is much more for me to do here. I hesitate to say "I'm comfortable here," because I do know God doesn't call us to merely be comfortable, but "I'm comfortable here" does run through my mind nonetheless.
To be honest (and I know how horrible this sounds...trust me, I've thought many horrible things over this summer because of Honduras looming on the horizon), I'm not expecting any aspect of life in Honduras to outdo the same aspect of life back here in West Michigan. The two reasons I applied to International School in the first place are because I was positive I would get a job and because my friend Kristin had already accepted a job there. If I had to do it over, I would not have applied. I don't think it's good that I'm going down there with such low expectations - I have a habit of self-fulfilling my own prophecies, and if this becomes the case once I'm in Honduras, not only will I find myself miserable, but I'll also be destined to be a lousy teacher because of it. My friend Anne verbally kicked my butt a couple weeks ago with that point and several others. Students can easily tell if their teachers are not into their own teaching, and if that is the case, the teaching automatically loses its value. No set of students deserves that, and I do fear that may be the case. But as I've said, I'm not feeling enthusiasm and I'm not into manufacturing it. So at this point I fear I may find myself at an impasse of not wanting to let my future students down, but not being able to put myself into a mindset where I wouldn't be destined to do just that.
I'm going to cut off the negativity train of thought at this point. It's been rather disjointed anyway, and anybody still reading likely wouldn't care to read any more. I hope I can compose some posts that actually serve a purpose other than allowing me to wallow in self-pity before I head out. I feel there are so many things I ought to tell my soon-to-be-devoted readers (I've only given the web address to one or two people so far), but then again, I know there are so many things I need to actually accomplish within the next two weeks, so we'll see how it goes.
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