and finally training is over...
An update on the goings-on in Oaxaca:
Finished my training/certification program (finally) yesterday. It was actually quite sad to have to say goodbye to everyone. After having spent a full month of 12-hour days filled with crazed last-minute lesson planning and nerve-wracking hours of being observed teaching, it feels strange to not have them to go back to on Monday for more classes and commiseration. One of my better friends, however, originally a pastry chef from New York City, made the (brave) decision to stay here for a year at the end of the course, too, so I will have some American company if I want it. I am also eager to stay in touch with my teacher-trainers, who were incredible. Todd, tattooed and pierced and full of hidden spiritual experiences that I didn´t get to hear near enough about in our formal classroom setting, seems to have traveled to every country in the world that I want to go to, quite the intrepid traveler. Gina is herself a graduate of the School for International Training in Vermont, where I wouldn´t mind getting my Master´s degree if I ever end up going that route, and spent a number of years teaching in Japan. Her sample Japanese language lessons definitely made me want to learn to speak Japanese. Between the two of them I can´t actually name a country they haven´t been to.
Anyways, back to Oaxaca. I have found permanent work at a private language school called Cambridge Academy, complete with contract and vacation days and opportunities for professional development (rare here for the most part). I will be beginning two of my classes on the 14th, and will be teaching a normal, full schedule starting at the beginning of September. I will be living in an apartment in Colonia Reforma, the wealthier part of town to the north, which includes a big bedroom with a small terrace with a hammock, a private bathroom, a beautiful shared kitchen with two walls open to the garden (right up my alley) and a fair amount of independence. The only downside is that it is a half-hour walk to work at the main building, but I am arranging taking half of my hours at the new building which is significantly nearer to where I will live. I am also fairly nearby one of the only pools in the city (weee!).
I am starting to feel like I belong here, or at least enough to give smart-ass retorts to taxi drivers and construction workers who try catcalling in English. One man was quite taken aback the other day in particular when I told him I was German and that I didn´t speak any English, so I couldn´t understand what he was saying. Nevermind that I immediately afterwards walked into the doorway of the English language school I am teaching at. Just being able to parry the comments of the doubters feels gratifying. My Spanish, especially my comprehension, has become quite good, and I have begun to wrap my head around what kind of humor translates and what just renders faces blank. Mostly I experiment with my host dad, who is quite the jokester himself.
The city, as always, is full of a wide variety of people, both tourists and locals. Guelaguetza, the two-week July cultural festival and tourist trap, was canceled for the first time in history because of political tension: the festival is mostly put on by locals from nearby pueblos but the government gets all the ticket money at a price too expensive for locals to afford. The protesting maestros went to all of the sites that the Guelaguetza was supposed to take place and camped out so that government work crews couldn´t set up or refurbish the main stadium. The maestros are still downtown in the zocalo, too, although I´m not really sure why, because the elections are over and international attention has for the most part shifted to Lebanon and the middle east, and it has become quite apparent that Ulyses will not leave governorship until his term has officially expired.
While I actually enjoy seeing the turmoil for historical purposes, it is indeed quite annoying to have to step over rocks and walk around road barricades to get downtown to a pub or cafe (note, however, that with the exceptions of the very very ritzy locations, businesses are still open). Needless to say, buses to Puerto Escondido and other beach locations were packed during Guelaguetza with tourists who had made their reservations months in advance but were put off by the confusion between the protesters and the government.
In the meantime, the government is a virtual nonpresence downtown. Oddly enough, however, it remains one of the safest places to walk to and grab a beer at night: it is always populated with families, teenagers, and tourists until at least 2 or 3 in the morning... they stay up late here, especially on the weekends, and the city is full of incredible hole-in-the wall cafes and courtyards with amazing food and music... my favorite place so far in terms of bars and cafes is one called La Cucaracha (yes, `the cockroach´) which my tourist friends actually didn´t want to go into because of the name but turned out to be a welcoming, slightly-more-upscale-than-the-Blarney-Stone-at-Clark kind of place. It also boasts a mean tostada for just a buck fifty, and free snacks when you order a beer. I will definitely be a regular customer. The spicy peanuts and fried, pretzel-shaped cheeto-looking things with hotsauce are delicious.
I have over 320 pictures on my camera, but the internet is so slow at these internet cafes that it takes forever to upload them to the web. I am still working on it, but I may just wait until Tim gets here on the 17th and have him help me with it. Your imaginations and this blog will simply have to serve in the interim.
Namaste,
Anna
Finished my training/certification program (finally) yesterday. It was actually quite sad to have to say goodbye to everyone. After having spent a full month of 12-hour days filled with crazed last-minute lesson planning and nerve-wracking hours of being observed teaching, it feels strange to not have them to go back to on Monday for more classes and commiseration. One of my better friends, however, originally a pastry chef from New York City, made the (brave) decision to stay here for a year at the end of the course, too, so I will have some American company if I want it. I am also eager to stay in touch with my teacher-trainers, who were incredible. Todd, tattooed and pierced and full of hidden spiritual experiences that I didn´t get to hear near enough about in our formal classroom setting, seems to have traveled to every country in the world that I want to go to, quite the intrepid traveler. Gina is herself a graduate of the School for International Training in Vermont, where I wouldn´t mind getting my Master´s degree if I ever end up going that route, and spent a number of years teaching in Japan. Her sample Japanese language lessons definitely made me want to learn to speak Japanese. Between the two of them I can´t actually name a country they haven´t been to.
Anyways, back to Oaxaca. I have found permanent work at a private language school called Cambridge Academy, complete with contract and vacation days and opportunities for professional development (rare here for the most part). I will be beginning two of my classes on the 14th, and will be teaching a normal, full schedule starting at the beginning of September. I will be living in an apartment in Colonia Reforma, the wealthier part of town to the north, which includes a big bedroom with a small terrace with a hammock, a private bathroom, a beautiful shared kitchen with two walls open to the garden (right up my alley) and a fair amount of independence. The only downside is that it is a half-hour walk to work at the main building, but I am arranging taking half of my hours at the new building which is significantly nearer to where I will live. I am also fairly nearby one of the only pools in the city (weee!).
I am starting to feel like I belong here, or at least enough to give smart-ass retorts to taxi drivers and construction workers who try catcalling in English. One man was quite taken aback the other day in particular when I told him I was German and that I didn´t speak any English, so I couldn´t understand what he was saying. Nevermind that I immediately afterwards walked into the doorway of the English language school I am teaching at. Just being able to parry the comments of the doubters feels gratifying. My Spanish, especially my comprehension, has become quite good, and I have begun to wrap my head around what kind of humor translates and what just renders faces blank. Mostly I experiment with my host dad, who is quite the jokester himself.
The city, as always, is full of a wide variety of people, both tourists and locals. Guelaguetza, the two-week July cultural festival and tourist trap, was canceled for the first time in history because of political tension: the festival is mostly put on by locals from nearby pueblos but the government gets all the ticket money at a price too expensive for locals to afford. The protesting maestros went to all of the sites that the Guelaguetza was supposed to take place and camped out so that government work crews couldn´t set up or refurbish the main stadium. The maestros are still downtown in the zocalo, too, although I´m not really sure why, because the elections are over and international attention has for the most part shifted to Lebanon and the middle east, and it has become quite apparent that Ulyses will not leave governorship until his term has officially expired.
While I actually enjoy seeing the turmoil for historical purposes, it is indeed quite annoying to have to step over rocks and walk around road barricades to get downtown to a pub or cafe (note, however, that with the exceptions of the very very ritzy locations, businesses are still open). Needless to say, buses to Puerto Escondido and other beach locations were packed during Guelaguetza with tourists who had made their reservations months in advance but were put off by the confusion between the protesters and the government.
In the meantime, the government is a virtual nonpresence downtown. Oddly enough, however, it remains one of the safest places to walk to and grab a beer at night: it is always populated with families, teenagers, and tourists until at least 2 or 3 in the morning... they stay up late here, especially on the weekends, and the city is full of incredible hole-in-the wall cafes and courtyards with amazing food and music... my favorite place so far in terms of bars and cafes is one called La Cucaracha (yes, `the cockroach´) which my tourist friends actually didn´t want to go into because of the name but turned out to be a welcoming, slightly-more-upscale-than-the-Blarney-Stone-at-Clark kind of place. It also boasts a mean tostada for just a buck fifty, and free snacks when you order a beer. I will definitely be a regular customer. The spicy peanuts and fried, pretzel-shaped cheeto-looking things with hotsauce are delicious.
I have over 320 pictures on my camera, but the internet is so slow at these internet cafes that it takes forever to upload them to the web. I am still working on it, but I may just wait until Tim gets here on the 17th and have him help me with it. Your imaginations and this blog will simply have to serve in the interim.
Namaste,
Anna
posted by ajolley | 9:46 AM
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