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Gervase Teresa Caycedo

Backpackin' Blogger

I needed to perfect Spanish, fast, so I enrolled in a four-month teaching program sponsored by the U.N. English Opens Doors Program right after graduation, and bought a plane ticket to Chile. I decided to head to South America a month early and backpack while the U.N. was deciding where and what gra...

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I Don´t Speak Grammar

Two days into my four month stint in Vallenar and I am basking in my happiness. I am in a city of about 50,000 people and teaching five different classes in a high school of about 900 students. This city, these people, my school, all seem to be things that I hadn´t even realized I was missing. The past month I have been a nomad, in search of self-sufficiency and a ferocious sense of independence and trust in myself at the mercy of the universe, and I feel I found it, I felt it. I honestly learned new things about myself, but now here, stationary in this new city and living with Dora (the mother of the English teacher at my school, Marcella) and her mother, I have stumbled upon a family again. And in Chile, family does not mean ¨my mother and my grandmother,¨it means cousins and children and aunts and uncles and neices and nephews and friends and their families and boyfriends and colleagues. These people don´t understand why I don´t live with both my parents and my boyfriend all in one house. ¨Why leave?¨they ask me. How do I tell them, ummm ... ¨in America, we have this habit of leaving our families once we turn 18 and then finding a college as far away as possible and living in co-ed dorms with our friends for the next four years...¨ Just kidding. But, really, that´s kinda what we do, and after four years of absolute freedom, it´s tough to move back. The kids in my high school all go home at 1 p.m. to have lunch with their families ... as of course do Marcella and I.

 Honestly, I have the cutest surrogate family in the world, complete with awkward drama -- Marcella is dating a much older man, who has yet to officially to divorce his wife from who he´s been separated for 18 years -- and awkward conversation ... what do I say to the 84-year-old grandma who is missing an eye (literally) and speaks a Spanish that sounds like gibberish to my American ears ...? ¨Pretty blouse!¨I told her this morning, (I´m trying, OK?). Two hours in, Marcella bluntly told me about her ¨situation,¨aka how she´s living with her boyfriend Edgardo and after a year her mother has yet to allow him into her house. Ahhh, finally, colorful family dynamics. How refreshing.
The teachers at the school are so welcoming and I think I honestly met about 150 people today (students included), which is terrifying to me as it took me an hour to engrave Marcella, Dora and Silvana´s names into my brain. Oh, and Silvana is another English teacher at the school who I adore, and she lives with her parents and her four-year-old daughter, Sophie (boyfriend very much in the picture since forever ... I dunno what´s up with that...). Currently I am at Silvana´s house using her computer and downloading illegal music (finally!). People keep inviting me to their houses for tea and bread (duh) and though the teaching part is gonna be challenging I am so ready to begin. After all the orientation and traveling, it´s so nice to finally be thrown into this alternate universe. A boy in my class screamed out that he loved me today, and when I tried to explain anything to the other boys they just looked at me and smiled at each other ... that part is a bit embarrassing. ¨You need to be very very serious to overcompensate,¨a fellow teacher told me today. OK, but um...how??? I am not serious. Ever. I am sarcastic and weird and incapable of taking myself seriously (particularly as an English teacher).
¨What is the past progressive?¨ Silvana asked me today in front of some students. ¨Ï have no idea,¨I told her. Similar to the class I observed in Santiago where they were studying the phonetic alphabet. People were asking me to identify symbols I had honestly never seen in my life. I know the English alphabet, and believe it or not that´s worked fine thus far. I´m here because I speak English, not grammar. The Chilean Ministry of Education told me so, seriously.

Oh, and as far as being back in high school in general, it is truly bizarre. I´m the new girl again. But I don´t care. For some blessed reason my doubts have floated away. Working with the kids today I was not nervous or worried about my blatant professional deficiencies. I was just myself and I have to believe that that´s enough.
In our Santiago training, our teachers reminded us to have fun, enjoy, take time for ourselves. ¨Don´t forget that at the end of the day you are all volunteers who aren´t getting paid,¨they reassured us. And, honesly, it must have worked because, though I have no illusions that planning hour and a half lessons for different grades each night is going to be easy, I have so many ideas! A talent show, English songs, ice breakers, games, dance classes... my head is spinning, but my fingers are about to freeze right off because in South America central heating just simply ¨doesn´t exist,¨(I am told). I will adjust, I always adjust. (Note, if anyone feels like sending me thermal pj´s, that would be cool...). Lunch is now my dinner and instant Nescafe tastes better than a latte (OK, not really). Bread is my breakfast, yogurt, coldcut sub and dinner and walking my 15-minutes to school each day down a giant hill that´s ¨under construction,¨ will be just another part of my routine. Tonight on the phone with Kev in an internet cafe using Skype there was 80´s music blasting in the background. ¨Is there a concert going on?¨ he asked me. ¨Nope, that´s just the internet cafe soundtrack,¨ I told him. The randomness of South America will never cease to amaze me. I am truly in awe of this continent´s randomness. Clowns riding trucks, a lone transvestite walking the plaza in Copiapo, raggaeton played during the school breaks, a fire alarm throughout the city at noon, oh and absolutely NO GP´s (that´s game plan for those of you who are not my friend). I am worshipper of the game plan, the routine, the schedule. I need to mentally prepare. Organize events in my mind (I have a problem, I am aware). Today I was finally told to relax. Chileans don´t have game plans (how do you live?!?), they are absolutely never on time and they have no sense of your personal plans. ¨Take a chill pill,¨ Peter from Pisco had told me weeks ago. Looks like I will be learning to ¨chill¨sooner than later...