When Life Strikes

A few weekends ago, as I breakfasted with my host family (and was taking fire for being the chico light and choosing sleep over late night activities), some tough news arrived to the household. An uncle of the family--who was also the host father of a former volunteer and someone whose house I would visit once every month or so last year--had passed away. Though not particularly close with him, he was someone I had interacted with often since arriving down here and had even planned on visiting the week before he died (but had forgotten).
I don`t want to make it seem like all I thought about after this event was my own feelings and reactions (obviously, it was incredibly hard for the family and their emotional rollercoaster and attempts to process his death and burial was very moving), but I did feel particularly moved in ways that I had never experienced before.

One particularly odd moment of the day was when I found myself, dressed in a suit, with six other people in the back of a pickup truck, holding on by one finger for dear life, sweating because of the nervousness of preparing for reading a letter at the burial, and generally just emotionally overwhelmed as we made our way from the funeral mass up to the cemetary. I had been given the job of presenting and reading part of a letter from the volunteer who had been down here two years and become part of the family. My reading followed the family´s own discourse at the gravesite and I both felt incredibly sorrowful and out-of-place. I accomplished my task without any big mistakes and I do feel appreciative to be able to have done something for the family on that day, but I could not help but ask myself why I was there, with all the attention, and trying to do service to the incredible life of a man, who in contrast to the many friends and extended family there that day I barely knew. In retrospect, I believe that in some way it reflected even more on who he was (since he always opened his home and took in many at first ¨random¨ people to share and celebrate with).

Nevertheless, in my limited experience with death and the discomfort at times of being an outsider down here, I felt very torn at the time. If anything, those emotions speak more to my own doubts and my American culture; I don´t think there was a moment that anyone there felt that I would have been out of place. So many of the Peruvians we know have come to see us as one of the clan--and I feel incredibly blessed for that acceptance and inclusion. I myself have been inspired to write some heartfelt letters to my own host family, who is so giving, so joking, so inclusive, and just generally so happy to share with me. They will never replace those for whom I care and love in the States, but they have also made me feel a shared humanity across spaces of cultural and distance that I never had thought possible before.

On that note, happy Easter to all, and my you all pass it well, in good health, and in the good company of family and friends.

Rights, Rules, and Responsibilities

I like starting out my classes in the beginning of the year with a discussion of how the classroom is like any society. As citizens of the class, the students have responsibilities to comply with, and in turn recieve their rights. A citizen maintains certain rights (say, to walk the streets freely) because they comply with their responsibilities (respecting private property). When they break or do not comply with the responsibilities (say, robbing a bank), they lose their rights (can be arrested).
I understand that it may be a little simplified, but it works in relation to the classroom. Rights such as to ask questions or to participate in class may be lost in the case of not complying with important responsibilities as raising your hand or paying attention. I always add in a little section on rules too in order to stress some key non-negotiable issues (respect, etc).
In the third week on school (but the first full week since we started off with half days and meetings), I am starting to see how this same scheme can apply to my own role as a teacher. This year at Miguel Pro, I feel like I have more rights - I have the right to be listened to as an equal teacher (last year, it often seemed pointless to mention my ideas in a meeting)
, or the right to feel appreciated (which is new after last year) - that come with a coinciding rise in responsibilities.
In my tutoria, for instance, I have lots of different committees, routines, meetings, and events to organize now at the beginning of the year. Additionally, as Miguel Pro has more celebrations and events for its students (for instance, a reconciliation evening and an early-morning stations of the cross hike to follow), I have to juggle and help organize more outside-the-classroom activities.
Yesterday, I definitely felt a little overwhelmed by all the balls I had up in the air, but today have reached a better state of peace. I enjoy being busy and the feeling that comes with being accomplished and checking off each item on a to do list (whether it be a mental or written one). For that reason, I forsee this year as being more challenging, but in the end, more rewarding as well. I have started off very organized (I have even planned out the entire bimester´s development in a number of classes) and need to continue to stay ahead of the wave of responsibilities. I mean, as a good law-abiding, making-people-happy citizen, I really do love those rights.

Happy Women´s Day (and Second Week of School)!

Peruvian culture in general is very machista - women (not all, but in general) spend all morning cooking lunch, will sometimes clean the house three times a day, and generally are limited to certain roles. But, on March 8th, they recieve at least a little recognition on International Day of the Woman.

Though I feel like the day is talked about and joked about more than actually celebrated, the work and role of women is celebrated with gifts or meals and ceremonies in the schools. In our house, I made some breakfast for my housemates (the crepes turned out tasty, but not as perfectly round and beautiful as I would like).

In other noteworthy developments, I start my second week of classes here at Miguel Pro. The first week went very well. Though each day felt long, I enjoyed getting to know my students, feeling like I am becoming part of the teacher community here at the school, and helping try to ease the adjustment of being a teacher for the two newer volunteers. I realized that this is actually the fourth time I have started a new school year (and at three different schools), and have become very comfortable with the return to the classroom.

One of my responsibilities here will be as a co-tutor (which basically means being half guidance counselor and half homeroom teacher). The role offers a unique chance to get to know the students, their families, and to extend my efforts and work beyond the four walls of a classroom. This first semester we will visit the homes of the students, organize Back to School Nights for the parents, a camping trip with the students, and in the allotted class time, discuss short-term and long-term goals in an effort to help the students recognize their abilities and their strengths.

I am working with the fourth year of secondary (basically sophomores in high school), who also were the students with whom I was on Mes de Mision. This connection will make the beginning of the year much easier for me. Also, I am working with the new communications teacher, who is a nice and calm woman. Only side point is that she is 7 months pregnant and so will be taking a short leave in May to give birth. But I am sure I can handle the tutoria on my own for that short time.

In other news, last night, La Teta Asustada did not take home the Oscar for Best Foreign Film. The hype and excitement of the nomination and chance to win spread across the entire country, infiltrating almost all of the news and a lot of the talk around meals this weekend. In English the title is The Milk of Sorrow and it centers on the effects of the Shining Path and the repressive government response on current generations in the Peruvian highlands. An interesting and well-done film, but unfortunately not an Oscar-winner.