Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Friday, June 20, 2008
I'm growing up, which also means that I am now a heartless kitten killer.
This week has been less than ideal, but I've been trying to keep my chin up... largely through the help of hot toddies and venting to everyone who will listen, including a small forum of strangers over the internet.
This morning I was walking in Valparaiso and heard a horrible screeching. I turned a corner and saw the most pathetic looking kitten imaginable in the middle of the road. Scurrying around and amazingly darting passing cars. I ran into the street, bent down to pick it up, and realized that it was completely covered in shit and smelled as if it had been this way for weeks. Rather than touching it, I kind of urged it to the side of the road with my feet.
And there we were, on the side of the road. At this point, I kind of assumed that I'd find a mother cat, or at least a few other kittens hovering close by. No luck. While I was thinking about my next step, the kitten started becoming quite fond of my feet, which isn't completely illogical, as they likely saved her life. I didn't know what to do. The thing was shivering, trying to crawl up my leg, curl between my feet, looking longingly at me and screaming screaming screaming at the top of her little kitten lungs.
I called a friend to discuss my options. Animal shelters in Chile? No. Anyone who might want a kitten? No. Could I keep her? Not really. I can't have cats where I am living now, and having a cat complicate my new apartment search could be bad news, plus, I don't even know how long I will be living here. Trying to get her back to the states with me was a headache that I couldn't begin to contemplate. Also, she smelled bad enough and was screaming loud enough that I couldn't even bring her on a bus to get her home.
I nudged the kitten aside and walked away with tears welling in my eyes.
Two years ago, there would have been no way that I could have left the kitten there to die. I'm growing up. I never wanted to lose my overly strong sense of child like idealism. I wanted, and still want, to believe that every action to help someone else (human or animal) was worth all the inconvenience and really did take a step, however small, towards making this world a less horrible place to exist in.
I could have taken the kitten. I could have figured something out. I don't know why I didn't.
Besos,
Allie
This morning I was walking in Valparaiso and heard a horrible screeching. I turned a corner and saw the most pathetic looking kitten imaginable in the middle of the road. Scurrying around and amazingly darting passing cars. I ran into the street, bent down to pick it up, and realized that it was completely covered in shit and smelled as if it had been this way for weeks. Rather than touching it, I kind of urged it to the side of the road with my feet.
And there we were, on the side of the road. At this point, I kind of assumed that I'd find a mother cat, or at least a few other kittens hovering close by. No luck. While I was thinking about my next step, the kitten started becoming quite fond of my feet, which isn't completely illogical, as they likely saved her life. I didn't know what to do. The thing was shivering, trying to crawl up my leg, curl between my feet, looking longingly at me and screaming screaming screaming at the top of her little kitten lungs.
I called a friend to discuss my options. Animal shelters in Chile? No. Anyone who might want a kitten? No. Could I keep her? Not really. I can't have cats where I am living now, and having a cat complicate my new apartment search could be bad news, plus, I don't even know how long I will be living here. Trying to get her back to the states with me was a headache that I couldn't begin to contemplate. Also, she smelled bad enough and was screaming loud enough that I couldn't even bring her on a bus to get her home.
I nudged the kitten aside and walked away with tears welling in my eyes.
Two years ago, there would have been no way that I could have left the kitten there to die. I'm growing up. I never wanted to lose my overly strong sense of child like idealism. I wanted, and still want, to believe that every action to help someone else (human or animal) was worth all the inconvenience and really did take a step, however small, towards making this world a less horrible place to exist in.
I could have taken the kitten. I could have figured something out. I don't know why I didn't.
Besos,
Allie
Monday, June 16, 2008
I forgot to mention....
...that I felt an earthquake today.
It was small, but definitely noteworthy... to me at least.
Let me set the scene:
Twelve year old Fernanda and 7 year old Natalia are sitting across the table from me, drawing hearts and smiley faces on their very special "books of verbs" that we were creating. (Read: Allie had no lesson plan but she did have old magazines, scissors, and a glue stick.) I was cutting pictures of the Clintons out of 1992 editions of Newsweek and the girls were scribbling when I noticed a subtle shaking of the table. I assumed that it was due to a big truck passing outside... then I noticed that it was going on for way to long to be caused by a truck, and the DVD cases on the shelf were starting to rattle... I looked up and saw two blank faces starring wide-eyed in my direction.
"Uhmmm..... what's happening?" I said.
"Terremoto." squeaked Fernanda in a raspy whisper, hand clenched onto her pink pencil. Without breaking her gaze, Natalia nodded her head emphatically in agreement.
Then it stopped. The frightened looks left their faces immediately and they continued to scribble as if nothing had happened. What I found most interesting about the situation was how the children went from terrified to absolutely fine in an instant.
Oh, kids....
Besos,
Allie
It was small, but definitely noteworthy... to me at least.
Let me set the scene:
Twelve year old Fernanda and 7 year old Natalia are sitting across the table from me, drawing hearts and smiley faces on their very special "books of verbs" that we were creating. (Read: Allie had no lesson plan but she did have old magazines, scissors, and a glue stick.) I was cutting pictures of the Clintons out of 1992 editions of Newsweek and the girls were scribbling when I noticed a subtle shaking of the table. I assumed that it was due to a big truck passing outside... then I noticed that it was going on for way to long to be caused by a truck, and the DVD cases on the shelf were starting to rattle... I looked up and saw two blank faces starring wide-eyed in my direction.
"Uhmmm..... what's happening?" I said.
"Terremoto." squeaked Fernanda in a raspy whisper, hand clenched onto her pink pencil. Without breaking her gaze, Natalia nodded her head emphatically in agreement.
Then it stopped. The frightened looks left their faces immediately and they continued to scribble as if nothing had happened. What I found most interesting about the situation was how the children went from terrified to absolutely fine in an instant.
Oh, kids....
Besos,
Allie
My Chilean Day
This morning I woke up in Valparaiso with plans of hitting the produce market, heading home, grabbing my immigration documents, and booking it back to Valpo for round two of the Extranjeria before starting new classes and teaching existing ones until 8:30pm. That sounds like quite a day already... and then it became Chilean. By this, I mean that my carefully organized plans were totally screwed over by the working style of this country.
9:45am. I'm just finishing up at the market and I get a call from my boss.
Boss: Hi Allison!
Allie:.... Hi. (apprehensively.... knowing that when the boss calls rather than the secretary, things are likely in hysterics and I am certainly going to be dragged into it.)
Boss: So, I sent you a really important e-mail in the middle of the night. Did you have a chance to read it yet?
Allie: No.
Boss: Oh, well... I'm leaving the office at 11:00 and it would be great if we had a chance to catch up before then.
Allie: Alright, I'll be right in. (thinking: you don't pay me enough to have me on call 24 hours a day)
10:15am. I arrive at the office, arms filled with bags of tomatoes, cauliflower, and kiwis. Boss sits me down and explains that she really needs me to take on more classes, which I had agreed to do if she could alter my schedule so that I am not working between the hours of 8am and 8:30 pm most days in the week, as I am now. She explains that at this time, she can't change my schedule, but she would really appreciate it if I took on the new classes and she would have my schedule sorted out by the end of next week. I apprehensively agreed to this. Then she said that she might not have it figured out until the end of next month.
I was then asked if I could go with her and a group of other teachers to check out the classrooms at TPS, a port management company where one of my new classes was, at 11.... since my first class starts tomorrow at 8:00am. At this point, its 10:30, I start a new class in a building that I've never been to before at 1:00, I'm wearing clothes that I've worn all weekend, I have none of the teaching materials that I need for the day, and I have 5 kilos of fresh fruits and vegetables scattered around my feet. Because I am so dedicated to the teaching of the English language, I ran home and back within half an hour, and somehow managed to clean myself up and ditch the veggies.
11:00am. I arrive back at the office, out of breath. Of course, I'm the first teacher there. After waiting 20 minutes, the other two have trickled in and we are ready to go.
11:45am. We arrive at the port. At this point there is lots of talking in Spanish and I am too cranky to try to (or want to) understand it. For some reason we are all piled into a van and driven about 100 feet, then are taken into a building. More Spanish, more Allie not paying attention and then Boss tells me that she made a mistake, and that they actually don't have a class for me to teach there. Ooops!
As we are leaving TPS, some handsomely overweight fellow says "Hey pretty ladies." in English. Boss and Chilean teacher promptly turn around and start telling us how careful we must be at TPS because at TPS men might make comments like this to us..... I found this to be a strange warning, because this clearly happens to every white girl everywhere on this continent.
12:00pm. Leaving the port.
Boss: Pobrecita!!!! You look like you need a hot chocolate.
Allie nods and lets boss put her arm around her shoulder.
During our surprise attack/meeting that morning I had reluctantly agreed to take on 7 new hours of classes per week, all of which start this week. I knew nothing about the students, the locations, or the materials that I was going to be given/had to produce on my own. On top of this, I had another new class starting at 1:30 which she still hadn't provided the promised materials for. On top of that, I already had a full schedule. If I was a normal girl, I would have felt like crying, but since I have the tendency to be overly aggressive, I felt like drinking her hot chocolate and punching her.
12:30pm. New classes had been discussed, hot chocolate had been sipped, and croissants had been munched. There were no punching incidents and I felt much better.
Who knows what tomorrow holds for my schedule..... or lack of schedule. Still, I feel better now.
Besos,
Allie
9:45am. I'm just finishing up at the market and I get a call from my boss.
Boss: Hi Allison!
Allie:.... Hi. (apprehensively.... knowing that when the boss calls rather than the secretary, things are likely in hysterics and I am certainly going to be dragged into it.)
Boss: So, I sent you a really important e-mail in the middle of the night. Did you have a chance to read it yet?
Allie: No.
Boss: Oh, well... I'm leaving the office at 11:00 and it would be great if we had a chance to catch up before then.
Allie: Alright, I'll be right in. (thinking: you don't pay me enough to have me on call 24 hours a day)
10:15am. I arrive at the office, arms filled with bags of tomatoes, cauliflower, and kiwis. Boss sits me down and explains that she really needs me to take on more classes, which I had agreed to do if she could alter my schedule so that I am not working between the hours of 8am and 8:30 pm most days in the week, as I am now. She explains that at this time, she can't change my schedule, but she would really appreciate it if I took on the new classes and she would have my schedule sorted out by the end of next week. I apprehensively agreed to this. Then she said that she might not have it figured out until the end of next month.
I was then asked if I could go with her and a group of other teachers to check out the classrooms at TPS, a port management company where one of my new classes was, at 11.... since my first class starts tomorrow at 8:00am. At this point, its 10:30, I start a new class in a building that I've never been to before at 1:00, I'm wearing clothes that I've worn all weekend, I have none of the teaching materials that I need for the day, and I have 5 kilos of fresh fruits and vegetables scattered around my feet. Because I am so dedicated to the teaching of the English language, I ran home and back within half an hour, and somehow managed to clean myself up and ditch the veggies.
11:00am. I arrive back at the office, out of breath. Of course, I'm the first teacher there. After waiting 20 minutes, the other two have trickled in and we are ready to go.
11:45am. We arrive at the port. At this point there is lots of talking in Spanish and I am too cranky to try to (or want to) understand it. For some reason we are all piled into a van and driven about 100 feet, then are taken into a building. More Spanish, more Allie not paying attention and then Boss tells me that she made a mistake, and that they actually don't have a class for me to teach there. Ooops!
As we are leaving TPS, some handsomely overweight fellow says "Hey pretty ladies." in English. Boss and Chilean teacher promptly turn around and start telling us how careful we must be at TPS because at TPS men might make comments like this to us..... I found this to be a strange warning, because this clearly happens to every white girl everywhere on this continent.
12:00pm. Leaving the port.
Boss: Pobrecita!!!! You look like you need a hot chocolate.
Allie nods and lets boss put her arm around her shoulder.
During our surprise attack/meeting that morning I had reluctantly agreed to take on 7 new hours of classes per week, all of which start this week. I knew nothing about the students, the locations, or the materials that I was going to be given/had to produce on my own. On top of this, I had another new class starting at 1:30 which she still hadn't provided the promised materials for. On top of that, I already had a full schedule. If I was a normal girl, I would have felt like crying, but since I have the tendency to be overly aggressive, I felt like drinking her hot chocolate and punching her.
12:30pm. New classes had been discussed, hot chocolate had been sipped, and croissants had been munched. There were no punching incidents and I felt much better.
Who knows what tomorrow holds for my schedule..... or lack of schedule. Still, I feel better now.
Besos,
Allie
Monday, June 9, 2008
Allie teaches English.
What better way to procrastinate on planning EFL classes than writing about them?
Thats what I thought, and thats why I am about to present you with my top five favorite English lessons that I have taught in Chile:
5. The Many Languages of Suriname. This class is based on a photo slide show from the New York Times website on... the many languages spoken in Suriname. I use it to start a conversation about language and how it can be important to a country for both cultural and economic reasons.
4. Social Business. The BBC website has a whole section for English language learners. Fun, huh? I used a 6 minute English segment on Nobel Peace Price Winner Muhammad Yunus, the founder of the Grameen Bank, as the basis for a class on social business in which we discuss how the goals of a business and non profit organization can be combined to pull people out of poverty. Then we discuss non profit organizations that the students are aware of in Chile and what else can be done to solve the problem of poverty in their country.
3. Present Simple vs. Present Continuous. This lesson starts with unscrambling sentences that are designed to elicit answers in the present simple and present continuous. I then go on to explain the difference in meaning between the two forms and when to use them. Then I ask the students to either make sentences or write a story with cards with verbs on them and cards that have words that mark time like "usually" or "currently." I finish it off with a soccer themed board game that uses the two forms.
2. Clothing. I taught this lesson to my class of 4-6 year olds. Step one: empty your closet into your backpack. Step 2: Bring your backpack to class. Take about 5 minutes to let the kids guess what could possibly be in your backpack. Exaggeratedly draw all their silly guesses on the white board. Step 3: Take the clothing items out of the bag one by one and have the children repeat the name of the item about 3597402 times. Then say fun stuff like " I wear my pants on my head" and proceed to put your pants on your head while all the children scream "Nooooooooo!" This works best if you have already taught vocabulary for parts of the body. Step 4: Dress the little darlings up in your clothing and have them tell you what they are wearing, on what part of their body, and what color it is. Step 5: Cuteness overload.
1. Going to the Supermarket! This class was designed for children aged 7-12. I've taught it about 4 times and it has lead to by far the most enjoyable teaching experiences I've had in Chile thus far. The lesson comes complete with two sets of cards with pictures and words of food items, info gap and go fish games, coloring activities, shopping lists, and opportunities to practice adjectives and count vs. non count nouns. Wow, who wouldn't have fun?
I like teaching kids, can you tell?
All that said, I really miss teaching immediately useful skills to people in need. For example, there are few things more rewarding than teaching people in need of paying an electricity bill how to read one and how to write a check.
Now I need to plan classes, more on that later.
Besos,
Allie
Thats what I thought, and thats why I am about to present you with my top five favorite English lessons that I have taught in Chile:
5. The Many Languages of Suriname. This class is based on a photo slide show from the New York Times website on... the many languages spoken in Suriname. I use it to start a conversation about language and how it can be important to a country for both cultural and economic reasons.
4. Social Business. The BBC website has a whole section for English language learners. Fun, huh? I used a 6 minute English segment on Nobel Peace Price Winner Muhammad Yunus, the founder of the Grameen Bank, as the basis for a class on social business in which we discuss how the goals of a business and non profit organization can be combined to pull people out of poverty. Then we discuss non profit organizations that the students are aware of in Chile and what else can be done to solve the problem of poverty in their country.
3. Present Simple vs. Present Continuous. This lesson starts with unscrambling sentences that are designed to elicit answers in the present simple and present continuous. I then go on to explain the difference in meaning between the two forms and when to use them. Then I ask the students to either make sentences or write a story with cards with verbs on them and cards that have words that mark time like "usually" or "currently." I finish it off with a soccer themed board game that uses the two forms.
2. Clothing. I taught this lesson to my class of 4-6 year olds. Step one: empty your closet into your backpack. Step 2: Bring your backpack to class. Take about 5 minutes to let the kids guess what could possibly be in your backpack. Exaggeratedly draw all their silly guesses on the white board. Step 3: Take the clothing items out of the bag one by one and have the children repeat the name of the item about 3597402 times. Then say fun stuff like " I wear my pants on my head" and proceed to put your pants on your head while all the children scream "Nooooooooo!" This works best if you have already taught vocabulary for parts of the body. Step 4: Dress the little darlings up in your clothing and have them tell you what they are wearing, on what part of their body, and what color it is. Step 5: Cuteness overload.
1. Going to the Supermarket! This class was designed for children aged 7-12. I've taught it about 4 times and it has lead to by far the most enjoyable teaching experiences I've had in Chile thus far. The lesson comes complete with two sets of cards with pictures and words of food items, info gap and go fish games, coloring activities, shopping lists, and opportunities to practice adjectives and count vs. non count nouns. Wow, who wouldn't have fun?
I like teaching kids, can you tell?
All that said, I really miss teaching immediately useful skills to people in need. For example, there are few things more rewarding than teaching people in need of paying an electricity bill how to read one and how to write a check.
Now I need to plan classes, more on that later.
Besos,
Allie
Friday, June 6, 2008
I've been trying to write this post for 2 months without success.
Spanish.
It's supposed to be about Spanish....
....
So I just sat down to study Spanish. Its a remarkably beautiful day. Perfect summer dress with a light sweater weather. Sun shinning just enough to warm you when you are sitting sill, also providing the right circumstances for sunglasses, an excellent excuse to hide your face away from the world.
So, I just sat down on my balcony to study Spanish. This time I was able to open the book without hyperventilating... unfortunately, I couldn't make myself look at it. The ocean! Its so beautiful! And it goes on forever.... maybe if I look hard enough, for a long enough time, I could see to the end....
In short, I have a lot of anxiety about learning Spanish. On my second day in Chile, after my first Spanish class, I went out to the host fam's patio, books, index cards, notebooks, and colored pens in hand, and I set out to learn Spanish. After about 2 hours of diligent studying, I looked at the mess in front of me and for some reason, at that moment the largeness of what a language is struck me. I don't know why it never occurred to me before that moment, but a language is a LOT of information. How was I ever going to break that up onto index cards? How was I ever going to be able to find, or even afford, that many index cards?
Oh no.
Sitting down to study has been an issue for me ever since. I've taken to Spanish language pod casts and CNN Espanol as my main sources of Spanish... stuff, but its not enough. I'm going to have to open a book and actually look at it at some point if I want to learn this language.
Oh no.
Sometimes I think that I would be better off just studying English. I don't even know all of English yet! And its my native language! And I'm teaching it!
Oh no.
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.
Ok. I'm going back to the balcony, where I can see the pages of my Spanish books gently fluttering in the wind, beckoning me to actually look at them.... or is this a trap? Could a Spanish book possibly eat a person alive?!?
Strangely, despite my irrational fear of being eaten by a language book, my Spanish is somehow slowly getting better. This puzzles me, as I don't really have to use Spanish much (or at all) in my daily life. I teach English, live with an English speaker and have English speaking friends....
Last night, Julie and I were sitting around and chatting per usual with the TV on mute. I realized at one point that I was reading the subtitles and understanding everything that was going on. How is that possible? Despite my fears, somehow Spanish is filtering in through my apparently penetrable psyche. For some reason this worries me, that something could sink in and become part of me without me knowing, without me trying. At least in this case, its something I want.
So in summary, I want to learn Spanish without opening a book, but it bothers me that it is entering my mind without me specifically putting it there. I should be medicated for this.
Right, this time, I'm really going back to my books.
Besos,
Allie
It's supposed to be about Spanish....
....
So I just sat down to study Spanish. Its a remarkably beautiful day. Perfect summer dress with a light sweater weather. Sun shinning just enough to warm you when you are sitting sill, also providing the right circumstances for sunglasses, an excellent excuse to hide your face away from the world.
So, I just sat down on my balcony to study Spanish. This time I was able to open the book without hyperventilating... unfortunately, I couldn't make myself look at it. The ocean! Its so beautiful! And it goes on forever.... maybe if I look hard enough, for a long enough time, I could see to the end....
In short, I have a lot of anxiety about learning Spanish. On my second day in Chile, after my first Spanish class, I went out to the host fam's patio, books, index cards, notebooks, and colored pens in hand, and I set out to learn Spanish. After about 2 hours of diligent studying, I looked at the mess in front of me and for some reason, at that moment the largeness of what a language is struck me. I don't know why it never occurred to me before that moment, but a language is a LOT of information. How was I ever going to break that up onto index cards? How was I ever going to be able to find, or even afford, that many index cards?
Oh no.
Sitting down to study has been an issue for me ever since. I've taken to Spanish language pod casts and CNN Espanol as my main sources of Spanish... stuff, but its not enough. I'm going to have to open a book and actually look at it at some point if I want to learn this language.
Oh no.
Sometimes I think that I would be better off just studying English. I don't even know all of English yet! And its my native language! And I'm teaching it!
Oh no.
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.
Ok. I'm going back to the balcony, where I can see the pages of my Spanish books gently fluttering in the wind, beckoning me to actually look at them.... or is this a trap? Could a Spanish book possibly eat a person alive?!?
Strangely, despite my irrational fear of being eaten by a language book, my Spanish is somehow slowly getting better. This puzzles me, as I don't really have to use Spanish much (or at all) in my daily life. I teach English, live with an English speaker and have English speaking friends....
Last night, Julie and I were sitting around and chatting per usual with the TV on mute. I realized at one point that I was reading the subtitles and understanding everything that was going on. How is that possible? Despite my fears, somehow Spanish is filtering in through my apparently penetrable psyche. For some reason this worries me, that something could sink in and become part of me without me knowing, without me trying. At least in this case, its something I want.
So in summary, I want to learn Spanish without opening a book, but it bothers me that it is entering my mind without me specifically putting it there. I should be medicated for this.
Right, this time, I'm really going back to my books.
Besos,
Allie
Monday, June 2, 2008
Does your Maid match your kitchen?
Word on the street is that I'm living in a country where everyone who can afford to has a maid. Since the going rate for one of these lovely ladies is a mere 8.000 pesos per day (about $16), that means that there are a lot of maids.... and a lot of people earning crappy wages.
So, maids have been on my mind. As far as I can tell, the job description of a maid includes doing whatever anyone wants you to do in their home. This includes everything from cleaning, cooking, minding the kids, helping with homework, answering the phones, etc. I even read that decades ago, it was common for the maid to serve as a sexual partner for any needy member of the household. Not the most desirable job...
As far as I know, maids no longer double as prostitutes. To me that signifies at least a slight increase in their status over the past few decades. I was shocked, however, when shopping in the local grocery store, to find that maid uniforms are sold in the same section as kitchen towels and table clothes. (This store has a clothing section as well.) I've found myself wondering how clothing for a human being could become downgraded to a kitchen accessory.
Besos,
Allie
So, maids have been on my mind. As far as I can tell, the job description of a maid includes doing whatever anyone wants you to do in their home. This includes everything from cleaning, cooking, minding the kids, helping with homework, answering the phones, etc. I even read that decades ago, it was common for the maid to serve as a sexual partner for any needy member of the household. Not the most desirable job...
As far as I know, maids no longer double as prostitutes. To me that signifies at least a slight increase in their status over the past few decades. I was shocked, however, when shopping in the local grocery store, to find that maid uniforms are sold in the same section as kitchen towels and table clothes. (This store has a clothing section as well.) I've found myself wondering how clothing for a human being could become downgraded to a kitchen accessory.
Besos,
Allie
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