And so it begins

I have always been a soccer fan, always, but my fandom is nothing compared to that of Central American folks.  Yesterday basically revolved around the games, South Africa vs Mexico and Uruguay vs France.  Some kids woke up at 3 in the morning to watch the

Between 30-40 kids in the class watching the game

opening ceremony, ALL of them came to school sporting their favorite team’s jerseys or colors, it was absolutely fabulous.

A flatscreen tv was set up in the central courtyard for all of second grade to watch, kids sitting cross legged, eyes glued to it.  Most classrooms were equipped with video beams projecting the game, or a tv with bunny ears to get reception.  If a classroom’s tv/vb didn’t work teachers just crammed all their kids into another room and watched.  There was shouting, screaming, cheering, laughing, dancing, a whole gamut.  Love, love, love it.

It was insane, I wish the USA got as stoked as people do down here.  Costa Rica isn’t even in the Copa Mundial but they are gung ho about supporting those who are there.  I wonder if people in the US understand how big of a deal it is that we are even involved in this event….

I’m actually glad to leave Costa Rica on this note because I am really appreciating the fandom and excitement that teems from each person I mention the Mundial to.  We’re all just so damn excited to be watching our teams!!!  Leaving now will keep CR forever cemented in my mind as a soccer-crazed country, willing to put everything on hold just to watch a 90 minutes game.  It probably seems very ridiculous and pointless, but think about our own Super Bowl Sunday, now multiply that by infinity and add a month and a half to it, and THEN you will understand the World Cup pandamonium and joy.

I love it.  These are my teams for this year’s Mundial:

USA, Portugal, Brazil, and Argentina.  Let’s do work!!!!

Sports Sports Sports

Mitzi and I are in a battle royal of fandom.  She’s from Boston and a diehard Celtics fan while I was born a Laker baby and can’t help but defend my team (with the help of Miss Nadia).  It started innocently enough, printing little stickers for our respective teams…. but things may get ugly in the next week. 

Yesterday Nadia sent two 1st grade delegates with a yellow and purple Laker paper chain, they accidentally said it was for Father’s Day, but what are you going to do?  Since the Celtics had lost the night before I made Mitz wear it during our wake up train (we just run around the class to wake the kids up).  She was scowling the entire time telling me “When the Celtics win this will be you!!”  We shall see tonight…

In retaliation to her paper chain shame she made me make a Celtics one with the kids.  They’re both hanging in our room, equal representation…. I really don’t want to wear it, the Lakers better win.  Over the next week I hope to change her computer background to Derek Fischer or Kobe…. This has been such a fun time haha, the kids think we’re hilarious.

Add to NBA Finals the madness of the World Cup starting this Friday (we are pretty much required to watch it with our classes, the Minister of Education in Costa Rica decreed that all teachers must allow their students the option of watching the opening ceremony from 8-10 am) and you have a most excellent and pride-filled end of the school year.  Both events are a great way to “wave your flag” and peacably celebrate the fabulous sports of basketball and soccer with all your friends.  Even though Mitz and I are bugging each other about basketball, we’re still having fun, and I hope the kids can be supportive of their team yet enjoy the company of those who aren’t rooting for the same group.

I love sports and songs for the sports and and, this is a wonderful way to leave Costa Rica, my lasting impression is going to be of a group of people who value the celebration of sportsmanship and the World Cup over the more conventionally valued “real” education. 

Here’s K’naan’s Wavin Flag (the world cup anthem) featuring Nancy Ajram of Egypt, just to show how freaking global this thing is.. HABIBI!!!

Grunion Run

Life, as far as I can tell, is a wild goose chase…. a grunion run where the grunion are still in the ocean, not on the beach.  We search and search for our grunion horde only to find sticky damp sand and cold irritated noses.  The grunion are gone, but the beach is still there, the friend (who you didn’t know would become a best friend) sitting on your lap for warmth is still there. The thrill of the chase, though not successful, still there.

My eye has been on the prize since I was 17 years old.  Why Westmont? Well, because it’s close to home, it’s Christian, it’s a 4 year teaching program, and I’ll go to Costa Rica. Why 18-21 units a semester? To go to Costa Rica.  Why are you working a ton? To stay at Westmont… to go to Costa Rica.  Since the launch and departure of my college career every class, every step, was originally intended to bring me closer to that all consuming goal- Costa Frickin’ Rica.

Well, I’m here and like the grunion run that I went on all those summers ago, I’m missing my fish.  I got here and whatever I was hoping to find still eludes me.  I thought the grunion would be on the beach, but they aren’t.  What I found on this particular wild goose chase has proved to be infinitely better than any flopping silver googley eyed pez.

I found family, or should I say families.  Since my second departure (graduation) I have realized more than I had in January, how much I love my Santa Barbara family.  You know who you are because I made overbearing efforts to see you. True, there are those that have been part of my formation that I was not hell bent on seeing, but if I was with you at any point in time during that whirlwind of a weekend, I hope you know that I didn’t want to be anywhere else, or with anybody else in the world.

When I had to come… “home” though, back to Costa Rica, I was faced with the slaphappy prospect of returning to my other family unit, Las Chicas de Rosa Umana.  Just before boarding the plane Nadia and I called the girls to tell them we were on our way… If I could bottle/record Miranda and Greta’s voices when they heard us on the other end I’m not sure you could withstand the bubbling laughter and incandescent elation that ensued.

And so it is at the close of the hunt, the last 16 days, that I have come to terms with the fact that I have no grunion to show for my efforts. All I have is the ride in the open-roof trailer, the flippin’ rickety and bumpy ride with squeaky rusty hinges, the numb butt, warm heart, and friends next to me- all of us searching for something, only coming to find that the most important part of the chase is the fact that we’re running together.

To find people you love that love you back with the same fuerza, I think that may be the grunion that God was intending us to find… But who knows, I suppose that will be my question: Was the point of the grunion run to actually find the grunion or was it to find the people I want to know for the rest of forever?

I haven’t the foggiest idea

This morning it was hard to get out of bed.  Not because I was exhausted, or even because I was not looking forward to school, but because I was 9 again, waking up to a morning of fog while I was snuggled in my bed.

I love fog.  I specifically love my memories of fog on the mesa, those afternoons spent running amock throughout the neighborhood on Selrose Lane.  We would careen down “Bigfoot Hill” next to the Wilcox property on our skateboards, 2 or 3 to a board, depending on how big you were.  The precursors to luge dreams, our sneakers were primitive brakes used at the bottom of the hill.  After each successful, or even unsuccessful run, we would trek back up Bigfoot and do it again.

At some point exhaustion and hunger that only come from the joy of genuine play would overcome us and we would scamper back to Perry’s house.  We were a tribe, a troop, a hodge-podge of kids munching on Macaroni and Cheese.  I don’t think I’ve ever had macaroni like that anywhere else- the texture was almost as if Scotti (Perry’s mom) hadn’t put enough milk in it, but I loved it, it was perfect.

We rarely bothered with TV in those days, there was far too much to be imagined.  While crawling around on the hard wood floor, playing pretend, I would glance up every now and then and gaze out the backdoor.  In the time I had eaten my weight in Mac n’ Cheese the outside world had been transformed, from the sunny coastal paradise tourists stop and take pictures of,  to a world of obscurity and clouds.  Dewy and damp, the fog crept upon the house and neighborhood.

I loved it, I still love it- the sensation that the whole world has disappeared except for the house.  I think it’s the closest feeling to floating in the sky. When you’re in a plane you know that you’re going forward REALLY fast and that takes away from the feeling, but when you’re a little kid in a house surrounded by fog…. you are in your own domain in the sky.  Being in a house that is bombarded with fog makes me feel cozy, safe, like I’m watching the world change around me without being touched by that change, floating on.

On the mornings like this one, when I was actually little, the richest thing in the world was to look out the window on a Saturday, be overwhelmed by the sight of a dense cloud of water droplets, and revel in the fact that I could stay snuggled in bed till the fog burned off.  I was not pressed for time, I did not have to go anywhere, I could remain nestled in my kiddom.

Now though, I’m in the realm of the grown up.  Fog still fascinates me and elicits memories of a childhood I thoroughly enjoyed,  I’d like to stay wrapped and twisted in my comforter (I still thrash and roll in my sleep) but I know I’ve got to get up.  I’ve got to go to school, I’ve got to be part of another generation’s childhood memories… I hope the ones I’m involved in are good… but I also hope the ones of their friends and their little kid adventures are even better.  This is all because of fog.  : )

Mattwich

OK this is from Semana Santa in Puerto Viejo and I totally forgot about it….. It’s delicious
1. Bagel
2. Cream Cheese
3. Bacon
4. Avocado slices
5. Tomato
6. Lemon/lime spritzed on it

SO GOOD!!

Grades Suck Ass

I hate grades.  I love assessment. But I HATE grades.  You may be thinking to yourself, ‘but grades are assessment you silly goose’….. false.  Assessment should be (in my opinion) a tool used to inform teachers about where they need to improve so that their students can improve.  Little Timmy got a D, not because he’s stupid, but because, for one reason or another I couldn’t figure out how to reach him as a learner.  I know, I know, how am I supposed to reach every single kid in exactly the way they need to reached, I’m working on it, but the general idea of using a variety of strategies is an attempt at that.

Also, I’m not sure if the D Timmy got should count against him, especially if it’s because his teacher is ineffective.  It’d be one thing if little Timmy OK wait

I hate grades and rating kids so much I don’t even want to complain about it anymore or explain myself.. I’d rather talk about what I do like because that makes my heart soar like a little eagle.

If I didn’t have a cacamayme schedule to hold to and all these freaking report cards to turn in I’d be able to lolligag with my kids and take more time with things we sometimes have to gloss over.

Example: When discussing Iroquois government I was subject to the following fifth grade train of thought (and I loved it)

The Iroquois were a democratic society.  What’s the difference between Democrats and Republicans?  How are presidents in the States elected?  Why is the system so complicated? Which one is Obama?  Did you know somebody threaten to assassinate him? Somebody’s always saying they’re gonna kill the president.  Is it true that JFKennedy was shot from a hotel?  No that was Martin Luther King, JFK was shot in a car, in a parade.  Were you there?! No, but if I was I would have remembered it forever.  How do you mean remember it forever?  There are some moments in history that you witness and you’ll never forget where you were when you found out it happened.  Like…in 9-11?? Exactly.  Did you know the Ticos who worked at the Center were OK because they were late?  We’re always late to everything.

But I had to cut it short because the Iroquois were calling out to me “Remember the test you need to give about us next Tuesday and how important it is.”  It is all important…. but that’s the problem, all of it matters and there’s just not enough time to get to it all.  Someone, somewhere, ravaged the annals of history and knowledge and picked certain topics as the “it” topics.  Que triste.

My other new favorite moment, that could have potentially led to a lawsuit in the States was a discussion about the formation of the Solar System.  As I illustrated and explained the textbook scientist theory of how it all went down one of my more rambunctious kids raised his hand and asked, quite earnestly “But didn’t God make it?”  Well crap kid, I think so, but shoot, way to leap into theological waters.  So I had to tread lightly and explain different people believe different things.

Kids can get you between a rock and a hard place sometimes, but I think if you can maneuver tactfully and kindly with respect towards all parties involved it should turn out OK the end.  I just find myself wanting to discuss things that aren’t on the checklist.  Hm……..  I wonder how I can sneak things into the curriculum without detracting from what the state wants me to do….

Advice from Rosa

I was just instructed by my Senora to start praying for a husband…… Welcome to Costa Rica.

Welcome Back McGee

As I sat baking in the Santa Barbara sun listening to some man speak of the importance of words I discovered one of the aspects of my “incompleteness” in Costa Rica.  I have always been a student.  I mean, I still am a student, I am learning a TON about what it is to be an effective educator…. but it is all skills based instruction.  I have spent the past 3 1/2 years in a realm of trade training AND my own educational enrichment.

What I mean to say is this: in addition to being trained for my role as a future teacher I have always been involved in learning about the other sciences and humanities.  Learning has always been my first love and suddenly I find myself only learning how to teach.  I am immensely curious about the world around me and that curiosity has been put on hold for the time being.  I haven’t listened to a professor talk about religion, literature, or history in over four months…. and I miss it.

I miss the thrill of connecting with material and delving deeper into it on my own accord, not because it is required, but because for one reason or another, I hold that subject matter dear.  While in school I had grown used to being expected to learn as much as possible about whatever it was we were covering in class…. Now I realize I have to take my education into my own hands….

I cannot begin to describe what a relief it is to understand why I was feeling stagnant.  For awhile I thought I was just being a whiner, in reality though, I was simply missing the student in me…. we are so much more than our professions, we are ever changing organisms that should strive to further our knowledge of the world around us.  Be it through books, service experiences, discussions, or anything, we need to be receptive to new information and practice applying that receptiveness to our daily lives.

All that to say I’m going to start Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis to get my feet wet with learning again.  I know I know how cliche, but I got it for free from chapel my freshman year so I figure I should read it, ya know?

Happy trails, it was such a blessing to see you all this week.  I love you all very very much and hope that this summer will be fantastic (psh hope, who am I kidding it’s going to be stellar!)

If you could only see

If you could only see how my smile spreads across the span of 4 months joyful anticipation and hope of seeing home, God willing, about to become a reality.

Raining cats, dogs, and small children

So I’m sitting quite comfortably in our little patio area in nothing but shorts and a tank top…. it’s pouring rain and not even cold.  What a bizarre place.  I’m pretty sure the origin of the statement “When it rains it pours” was based off of Costa Rica rain because it doesn’t even bother to sprinkle  At home (when we do get rain) we usually benefit from a little drizzle that gives away mother nature’s intent.  We can scurry to our cars or the nearest building with a few droplets flecked across our faces and shoulders.

Not so in Tico Town.  Walking the two and a half blocks from our bus stop to Rosa’s house, I found myself sopping wet and it wasn’t even a hard rain for CR.  Downpours in the classrooms at Lincoln drown out all other noise.  For some reason the designers thought tin roofs would be the ticket to an effective learning environment…. too bad it rains most of the year, and not lightly.

It’s tapering off right now but I’m sure another onslaught of water and thunder is soon on the way.

I love how plants look when they’re dappled with droplets.  Looks sorta like a sprite went skating around them and left traces of sparkly dust… sorry that was really girlie.  Ah there’s the rain again.

Well I guess there’s nothing to do but keep working and listening to the world around me…. See ya’ll in 3 days.