Transitions

It has been quite a while since my last blog post…I must apologize. Any writing that I have been doing lately has been dedicated to law school applications. A few days ago, I submitted my last one, which is a huge relief. I can now focus my writing efforts on this blog.

The past month has been one of transitions. The populations in the albergues have been changing. Many of my projects are coming to a close, while others are just beginning. And I often take a step back, and find that I am changing as a person.

A few months ago, there was an influx of new children at the green albergue. We received a Nicaraguan boy of about 12 who had a black eye. Two brother-sister pairs were brought in. A boy with holes in his teeth came. One boy had a skinned nose. It is when I see the physical damage that some parents have done to their children that I begin to understand how different the children at the albergue are. Because I am so involved in their daily lives, I often forget that they have been abused. The new arrivals often serve as a shocking reminder.

As September came to a close, we started losing many of these children. The boy with the black eye was sent to the children’s services of Nicaragua. One boy was returned to his parents. Many found functioning family members to care for them. What remained was something that I was unprepared for: Toddlertown.

Never before in my Peace Corps experience had I worked with an albergue comprised of strictly toddler children. Most of the activities that I had in my arsenal were for older kids who could say more than a few words. I tried to think of exciting educational activities that could stimulate their minds. After a few failed attempts, I learned a valuable lesson: toddlers just want to draw, poop themselves and laugh. Once I learned this, the fun started.

I now look forward to hanging out with the toddlers more than anything else. In what other situation in my life will people unequivocally love me, jump on me, and hug me upon my arrival? We draw a lot; I usually stick to animals so that I can teach them animal names. We also play “the animal game,” in which I draw an animal and the kids have to guess what it is. If the kids get it right, I make the sound that the animal makes. The kids love it; the Tias are entertained by it. My cow impression gets the best response. Now whenever a cow is drawn, I am hit with a cacophony of loud “MOOOOOOOOs.” We also pass a lot of time flying paper airplanes, and playing tag in the yard.

In the adolescent girls’ albergue, we just finished a career planning/personal finance class. After examining the pre and post tests, I was proud to see that the girls had actually retained the information that we went over in our sessions. Hopefully they will use what they’ve learned in their lives.

I had similar success with my Aula Abierta students. The elementary school dropouts really took to the themes and lessons of the career planning/personal finance class. Perhaps it hits home for them, as many are already in the workforce. I have grown so proud of these students in particular because they have surprised me with how much that they have learned.

A few weeks ago, I considered ending my English class with the Aula Abierta students. My logic was that it is impossible to learn a language if one does not study at home, or have more than two classes a week. So I gave the students a comprehensive test of all that we had learned so far. Since the students do not respond well to formal exams, I made it in the enjoyable form of a Jeopardy game. I was shocked and thrilled when the students responded correctly to all of the questions. We have since moved on to a new verb unit in which the students are successfully conjugating and using verbs.

There is an old saying: “those who can’t, teach.” I didn’t realize how wrong this was until I stepped foot into a classroom. Being a teacher is one of the most difficult jobs I have ever had. Imagine standing in front of a class of students that you are totally responsible for. Then imagine all of them ignoring you, cursing at you, telling you that they don’t care, and even leaving the school in the middle of a class. These situations do not happen often, but they do happen. It is the most frustrating thing imaginable.

I have gotten into a routine in which I teach at the school in the mornings and work in the albergues in the afternoons. Because life has become normal, and the experience is no longer novel, I find that I have become tired of being a teacher. Like any other job, it has grown old. I have learned that while I have been successful here, I am not meant to be a school teacher.

Peace Corps has been an incredible experience thus far. However, I find myself looking forward to post Peace Corps life. Between my disillusion with the classroom and the excitement of applying to law school, I feel ready to move on.