On Dennis Miller's old show (the one before he went careening over to the dark and, tragically, less funny side), Dennis would end his interviews by asking "What did we learn?" ... from whomever he interviewed that night.
So what did we learn from three months in Ecuador? So many deeper, philosophical things to ponder it would make for an unbearably tedious read. Instead, here are a few basics.
1. The shortest distance between to points is not always a straight line; or, if you are traveling from the Sierra to the coast, and you are anywhere south of Quito, just go through Guayaquil.
2. If you are going to teach anywhere in Ecuador with a whiteboard, bring your own markers.
3. You can buy watches at every market, but no one uses them, so why bother?
4. A frightened sheep will take off at full speed regardless off the rope tied around its neck. 4a. They're not fast enough to do themselves real harm when the rope abruptly stops them.
5. Barking dogs are all cowards. And most of them are morons as well.
6. High tide shifts about 45 minutes per day. This is important to know when planning your runs and your lessons.
7. Buses will pick you up just about anywhere. They will also leave you off just about anywhere, so it's good they pick you up there too.
8. When it comes to almuerzo (lunch) in a market, and you ask what the segundo (second course) is, you are just asking what will be on the eighth of the plate not covered with rice.
9. The climate is cool, the sun is hot. Be prepared for either at any moment.
10. The stuff in the trash can at the front of the bus is going out the window in five minutes. If you have trash, pack it out with you or just throw it out the window.
11. For a country about the size of Oregon, there is a spectacular diversity to the climate, terrain, vegetation and culture. It's well worth three months of your life. Thanks much to Anja, Jim and Magus, Paola, Anna, Donna, Francisco, Lauren, Robert, Alicia, Emma, Jared, Ingrid, Jade, Carlos, Zuzi and everyone else at Pachamama, all the kids (and adults) at Katitawa and Clara Luna, and the thousands of helpful and friendly Ecuadorans (and even the couple dozen who weren't that helpful) for a spectacular time. Back with more posts next year from Central America.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Monday, November 14, 2011
Clara Luna/Cafe de Lenguas
Teaching
right at the edge of the ocean can present a unique set of challenges. A
high tide crashing up within 10 meters or so of the classroom can make
it difficult to hear or be heard, especially in different languages.
But, of course, you are teaching right on the beach, which makes it hard to complain about anything.
Parked at the south end of the Malecon in Puerto Lopez, the Clara Luna Language School is as different from Escuela Katitawa as Puerto Lopez is from Salasaca. While Salasaca is made up primarily of farmers and artisans, Puerto Lopez residents almost all make their money from fishing and tourism. The tourism ebbs and flows, but the fish never seem to. (For more on the Puerto Lopez, see the Ruta del Sol entry earlier).
The mission of the two schools is completely different. While Katitawa is the primary school for its pupil, Clara Luna's purpose is to augment the English education the students are getting during the school day. The difference between teaching students who want to learn and those sitting in a class they are required to attend is night and day. Add in the difference between teenagers and youngsters and you have a completely different teaching experience.
The school has three different classes at the moment -- a children's class that meets Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday at 4 p.m. Ecuadoran time (which means almost no one is actually there on time and the class begins around 4:30) and two different "adult" classes which meet at 6:30 (Ecuadoran time again). The majority of the adult students are high-school age. The beginners meet Tuesdays and Thursdays, the intermediate group on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.
The frustrating experience at the Clara Luna School, at least in the three weeks I taught there, was the attendance. Rarely were all the students present and often half or more would not show up, making it very difficult to build upon a previous lesson.
Paola Martinez, the owner of the school, teaches Spanish to tourists during the day, and that's where the majority of the school's income comes from. The English lessons are just $15/month, which works out to just $1 per hour (except that the students never show up for the first half hour of the 90-minute class, so they're really paying $1.50/hour. Still a good deal).
She is currently building a small house way on the other side of town for volunteers, with the hopes of having it ready by January. At that point she will have room for more English teachers and presumably more classes. For more information, visit www.claraluna.com.ec
But, of course, you are teaching right on the beach, which makes it hard to complain about anything.
Clara Luna / Cafe de Lenguas |
The view from the ocean |
The mission of the two schools is completely different. While Katitawa is the primary school for its pupil, Clara Luna's purpose is to augment the English education the students are getting during the school day. The difference between teaching students who want to learn and those sitting in a class they are required to attend is night and day. Add in the difference between teenagers and youngsters and you have a completely different teaching experience.
The classroom and the library |
The kids' class |
Paola Martinez, the owner of the school, teaches Spanish to tourists during the day, and that's where the majority of the school's income comes from. The English lessons are just $15/month, which works out to just $1 per hour (except that the students never show up for the first half hour of the 90-minute class, so they're really paying $1.50/hour. Still a good deal).
Paola (right) with a student |
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Los Voluntarios
Robert, the owner of the Katitawa School, estimates about 250 volunteers have cycled through the school in the past few years.
Since I've been here, about half of the volunteers have been from the United States, the other half from elsewhere. At the moment I write this, we have people here from the U.S., Canada, Czech Republic, Portugal, Holland, Brazil and France. In the past month we've also had volunteers from the U.K. and Australia.
Most of the volunteers are in their 20s (I'm the old man by a few
years). Most stay for a month or two, though some are here for a bit
longer. A lot come right after college or while they are taking a year
off. Others like me have quit their jobs and are traveling before
finding another job or going back to school. For most this is one stop
of many in their travels.
We all live at Hostal Pachamama (Mother Earth in Kichwa), and for having
anywhere from eight to 15 people sharing a house at any given time, I
am amazed at how harmonious the group has been. New people are quickly
assimilated and pick up the routine, and everybody is very considerate.
I'm sure having someone who cleans the house for us is a big factor as
well, but it really has been an easy place to live. We have communal
dinners and often take weekend trips together as well.
It
takes the kids about five minutes to warm up to new volunteers, maybe
less. They are very used to having new people show up and instruct them,
so beyond the usual difficulties of getting 6-9 year olds to
concentrate on anything, the turnover doesn't seem to faze them.
Since I've been here, about half of the volunteers have been from the United States, the other half from elsewhere. At the moment I write this, we have people here from the U.S., Canada, Czech Republic, Portugal, Holland, Brazil and France. In the past month we've also had volunteers from the U.K. and Australia.
Kevin and Alicia pose while the other Kevin watches Jared practice for music class |
Donna (right) works with Francisca in the garden. |
Brinn enjoying her final day at the school. |
Lauren gives Eric a ride on her shoulders. |
Hostal Pachamama |
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Kichwa
The residents of the community are mostly Kichwa, one of the native "tribes" (for lack of a better word) in Ecuador. They have done a good job of maintain many of their traditions. Many of the people still wear the traditional garments, which for me consist of a white shirt and trousers covered by long, solid black poncho with white stitching around the collar and across the shoulder. The poncho goes down to about the knees.
For women the traditional dress is a white blouse with embroidery around the collar, a black skirt held up by a cloth sash wrapped around the waist. On top they wear a shawl (usually crimson or green) that goes down to about the elbow.
The Kichwa language, which is taught in our school, is spoken as commonly as Spanish. It would be harder to find someone who doesn't speak Kichwa than someone who doesn't speak Spanish, though most speak Spanish at least as well as I do. On a side note, I was informed by one of the young men I am tutoring in the evening that there are three fluent speakers of English in the area and one of them works in the United Nations (the student said was Ecuador's ambassador to the U.N. but I have not been able to confirm that).
Kichwa (also spelled Quichua) is part of the Quechuan language family of languages spoken throughout Ecuador, Peru and Columbia. It has only been written in recent years (not sure how long) and so words are still being changed and it is not uncommon to find multiple spellings of the same word. Salasaca is often spelled Salasaka, for example.
The people have a dark, weathered look that may owe more to lives of hard work than genetics. As best I can tell, the most distinguishing feature is they are quite short and have flat noses and roundish faces.
The children at the school sometimes wear contemporary clothes (like Wamari) while others like Luis come dressed in the traditional Kichwa garb |
Girls dance in traditional Kichwa clothes (minus the shawls) at the Kulya Raymi festival marking the vernal equinox, which in Ecuador marks the beginning of the summer. |
Kichwa (also spelled Quichua) is part of the Quechuan language family of languages spoken throughout Ecuador, Peru and Columbia. It has only been written in recent years (not sure how long) and so words are still being changed and it is not uncommon to find multiple spellings of the same word. Salasaca is often spelled Salasaka, for example.
Signs at the school are often posted in three languages. |
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