Getting Through?

Grades are officially in and report cards will be sent out later this week.  Parent-teacher conferences are on Monday.  Which means, that I'm going to have a ton of upset parents at my door.  I hate days like these...it's like these parents can't understand that the reason why their kids have such poor grades is because they don't do their work...not because of me or how I teach.  It's so hard to be patient and calm, when all I feel like doing is yelling and bursting into tears.  Ey ey iy....  My days go back and forth between good and bad.  Some periods are amazing where the kids are discussing, are being calm, and are focused.  Other periods, it's pure chaos.  Today, my last period (which, I have them for my last period three days out of the week, including Friday), was out of control and I made them put their heads down for a few minutes.  I told them that they were at the age where I could expect more out of them. Where they should be acting older than 2nd graders. 

I hope I am getting through to some of them.  I have been surprised at a few kids who have shown their talent in certain areas.  For example, one of my 9th grade boys who hangs out with some of the rowdy kids, is actually a pretty good writer.  He also knows what he's talking about when he answers questions in class and tries to pay attention.  I try to write comments on his papers about how well he writes and how I appreciate him paying attention in class.  There are also a few girls that really have a lot of potential in writing, and I try to encourage them as much as possible. 

There is one boy, who I have had a few problems with, and who disrupts a lot of other classes.  He and I had a falling out when he was fresh with me, but since then, has calmed down some, although he still disrupts the class.  He did pay me a compliment yesterday, and said he appreciated that when I give him a punishment, I tell him what it is for.  I was kind of astonished, since I believe that that is the only way people learn; by knowing what they did wrong so they can change it.  However, I think that also showed him that I respect him enough to tell him his mistakes.  Today, after class, I had to pull him aside and reprimand him on his behavior.  I said that he is intelligent and he is capable of anything.  However, he needs to learn to focus and be in control of his actions.  I am hoping that somehow I can get through to him.  He is very bright and, when focused, can produce good work.  However, it is getting to that level that is difficult and challenging. 

It becomes difficult constantly giving of myself to not reap any rewards in the end.  I guess such is the life of a teacher...give 110%, receive 50%.  Even from the parents, it is difficult.  I know there are always those parents that believe that their child never does anything wrong, and it's all the teacher's fault.  Well, just once, would I like to meet a parent who is active in their child's learning.  Who is actually home and involved in the child's life.  I understand that it can be difficult with both parents working, but when a child is left on their own most of the time after school with only a housekeeper to look after them, then there's something that is totally wrong.  Maybe I shouldn't compare these kids' lives with my family or other families I know, but it's hard to see why parents don't want to be involved with their kids.  Why parents would rather their child be raised by a cholito (a native Bolivian woman).  No wonder these kids have the difficulties they do in school and in relationships; they have no role model in the home to show them how to be a human being. 

Ok, enough ranting for now.  Back to the grind of tutoring, work, and sleep!  It's hard to believe that I only have 2 more months until the end of the semester....it's going so fast, yet not fast enough.  While I am enjoying my time here, I can't wait to go home.  Yes, I do mean little pokey Johnstown. However, it's where my family and friends are.

Catching Up

Hola!  Ok, so I know it's been a while...my computer doesn't seem to get along with the Bolivian internet here...

Things have been busy lately with the first quarter coming to an end.  Grades have to be done and entered and parents appeased.  The kids have been tough lately, between their attitudes and laziness.  I have been somewhat more strict on them in regards to their work.  For instance, I have had a problem with them doing other work in my class, so I made a policy that if I catch them doing work from another class during my class, I would take their work and keep it until Friday after school.  I told them I don't care if they have a test, quiz, or paper they have to work on; when they are in English, they focus on English. Is that too much to ask?  I have had to confiscate some books already.  One guy cried because I wouldn't give it back.  Did feel slightly bad, but....   Also, this week, one of my 8th grade classes was just too lazy to do their homework, which was one vocab word and a short paragraph explaining how something they loved has changed (like a favorite hang out spot, or a place in their grandparent's house, etc).  Homework that would have taken them about 10 minutes to complete.  Did they do it?  Of course not!  Well, 3 did.  So, in addition to that homework, I told the lazy students to do a one page typed essay on responsibility to hand in the next day.  Of the 10 that were to do it, only 1 actually followed directions.  It's a shame how lazy these kids can get.

I know that I only subbed in the US, but even then, the kids were more respectful and more considerate.  I know being rich and entitled has a bunch to do with it, but still.  It's ridiculous how many times I have to remind my students that not only am I trying to teach them academics, but also life lessons.  Lessons such as responsibility and a good work ethic.  I get so aggravated at times and feel like I'm not connecting through.  Then, other times, I really enjoy my kids.  Like today, my one terrible 9th grade class, I actually really liked today.  We did a vocab review and then the last 15 minutes I let them ask me questions about myself.  Scary, I know.  But they had fun getting to know me and it was fun seeing their reactions to my life.  It's times like these that I do enjoy teaching and the kids.  However, these times are few and far between.  I tell my kids that I don't like being mean or yelling/raising my voice, but if that's the only time they listen to me, then I'll keep on doing it.  Not sure how else to get through to them.

Besides the hassle of non-obedient kids, I've been trying to get into a routine: I go to the gym and yoga in the evenings, tutor about two hours everyday, and started taking Spanish lessons.  The days are long and I usually fall into bed exhausted, but I take it day by day.  I am anxious to go home and see everyone, but overall, the year has been going by fast.  I've been learning a lot and experiencing a lot. I'm excited to see what kind of opportunities await me after this adventure!

Back From the Dead!

I have officially been resurrected.  Well, my computer at least.  I am so grateful for techie friends!

Not much has happened since my last blog.  At least nothing major.  We did have spirit day at school last Thursday where we wore blue and yellow...our school colors.  I didn't feel like buying a school shirt, so I only wore the colors.  I have been "helping" with the basketball team, although it's more like I work out with them and then if they need an extra person, fill in during drills or practice games.  I suck at basketball and am too short, but I enjoy getting to work with my kids and getting to know some of the older kids.  Anyways, last Thursday, we had a teacher vs. kids game.  I, of course, played, boasting to the kids all day that we would win.

The basketball coach, Andres, who is the math teacher used to go to Calvert as a student and had a number of old basketball jerseys.  The "starting five," which were Andres, Leah and Hannah (the two student teachers), Danny (the college coordinator), and I wore the jerseys all day.  It was fun interacting with the kids using basketball as a topic.  At 430, the game started.  And you know, for a bunch of "old folks," we didn't too bad...at least during the first half.  Andres ended up not playing and just referring, and we got one of the first grade teachers, Ferman, to play.  At half-time, the kids were beating us 10-6, I believe.  We were able to get some good shots in and everything.  Well, Danny, Leah, Ferman, and Hannah had some good shots.  The only thing I was good for was sprinting down the court when the kids stole the ball to try to prevent them from scoring.  I usually beat them there, but again, short problems kicked in and I was usually unable to stop them from scoring.  The second half was disastrous as the adults were definitely feeling the age difference.  We went from running down the court to walking, and sometimes limping.  The kids ended up winning 20-8, but we tried...

On Friday, we didn't have school as it was Cochabamba Day.  All the teachers had to walk in the local parade.  Women wore white tops, black pants and shoes, and a light blue scarf.  Men wore white shirts, black pants and shoes, and a blue tie.  We were lined up shortest to tallest, with four rows of women between two rows of men.  We all looked quite dashing and I regret not getting any pictures.  The parade was supposed to begin at 8AM and as we were number 17 in the line-up, we were hoping to get down within two or three hours.  We didn't end up starting until almost 10!  We ended around 1130, so it wasn't too bad, but we were all impatient to get done.  We walked down El Prado, which is one of the major streets in town.  There were people lining up both sides of the street to watch the procession of schools and important clubs from around the city.

When we were done, the school had booked reservations at a nearby restaurant for Saltanias, which are similar to Hot Pockets.  They have meat (either beef or chicken) with potatoes and a gravy-like sauce in a bread type pocket.  It is absolutely delicious.  We ended up having a great time even though it was an exhausting day.

The rest of the weekend went well, too.  Hung out with my friend, Alexis and her husband David.  On Saturday evening, we all went to another American's house, Hilary.  She is from Nebraska, but has lived in Bolivia for about two years.  It was so nice to meet other Americans and just to have more friends outside of work.  Now, it's back to the hum-drum of school again, which I will write more about a little later.

National Day of the Pedestrian

Internet is working for the moment, so I thought I'd update....

The past week or so has been a whirlwind of kids and fun.  Teaching is slowly adjusting and the kids are getting used to me...I still have yet to get used to them. Lol!  They've been working on creating stories in groups, and I've enjoyed watching them get into their project.  Many groups chose to do horror stories, which I cautioned them to make it school appropriate.  But there are a few groups who are really being creative and it's been fun seeing them get into the stories.  

On Sunday, we celebrated "National Day of the Pedestrian," which is throughout all of Bolivia.  On this day, all motorized vehicles are prohibited from driving and the streets are covered with people walking and riding bikes.  Downtown, was covered with vendors and activities.  Giovanni took Leah, Hannah, and I downtown to explore.  We went to the Tennis club and was able to rent a third bike from one of the cooks.  The three of us went exploring Cochabamba for about an hour and a half, until Hannah started feeling sick.  She had been sick the past few days and, though, she had been feeling better, I think it was a little much.  We headed back and she returned to the Tennis Club to rest with Giovanni.  I also had to sit out for a while because the sun was causing me to feel light-headed and nauseous.  But, I soon recovered.  Leah and I headed over to a friend's for dinner, which was amazing...basil pizza. Yum!

The mountains and scenery has slowly been turning green and luscious.  I can't wait until the trees are in full bloom and the flowers are bright and colorful.  I've been meaning to post pictures of my adventures, but with my internet down, it presents a bit of a problem.  

Well, that's pretty much what's been going on lately.  Am planning on blogging more about the beep distinctions and a typical day for me, but that will be later.  Hopefully, once my internet is fixed completely.  If there are any topics you, my readers, would like me to address, please let me know!!  Until next time....

Been a While...

So I realize it has been a little while since I last wrote, and I apologize.  My computer has not been very cooperative with the wifi the past few days.

Tonight is the high school open house...eek!  Never had an open house before, so I'm a little nervous as to what to expect.  Most of the teachers said not a lot of parents show anyways, so it'll be more time to do grading and other work.  Whew...hopefully, I'll be off the hook.  However, I should be prepared if parents do show up.  My walls look colorful.  I'm displaying some of the student's work.  And hopefully, I'm prepared for any questions they have.

I think lately, my students have been respecting me more, which has been really nice!  My 9th grade classes have simmered down, although there's still a few who try shenanigans.  Oh, so my last blog I had written about the three mark rule.  Well, last week, both my 9th grade classes received three marks and had to come on break to write sentences.  I crammed almost 40 kids in my class and made them write 20 sentences on being respectful.  Some of them complained because it wasn't the whole class, so I said that repeat offenders would do their sentences on their own from now on and the entire class wouldn't be punished.  Since then, they haven't had to write anything!

I did have to talk to one kid about his behavior yesterday, though.  He is a big jokester and loves being the center of attention.  Other teachers have also had difficult with him, so the principal suggested calling his mother.  Since then, he's been an angel!  He even apologized for acting up in class.  Let me just say that mothers who believe the teachers over their kids are few and far between, but are the most amazing people to a teacher!!

I also had to deal with a punk today who came purposely late to class.  I told him he had to come back to my room after school, before soccer practice, to write sentences.  He didn't show, and if the soccer coach tells me he did end up going to practice, he's gonna be in hot water tomorrow!  The attitudes of these kids are amazing...they think they can get away with anything.  Little do they know....

As for other social events in my life since my last blog, there's been small get together's and other outings.  It's been fun getting to explore Cochabamba and getting to hang out with the other teachers outside of school.  I've also enjoyed getting to know some of the elementary teachers, too.  We now have a "group," as we call ourselves.  It's been a lot of fun, and I'm so glad I've been able to make these friendships.

Crackin' the Whip!!

So, yesterday, we had a "new teacher" meeting with the high school teachers.  One of the things that was brought up was addressing any issues with classes.  I spoke up and said that my students, particularly my 9th graders, were very inconsiderate of me, as the teacher, and of their other classmates.  They always talk over whomever is talking, and simply don't pay attention.  A few other teachers also voiced their agreement in the matter.

As I was talking this morning with Ms. Katherine, the other English teacher, about the meeting, I told her how I was at my wits end.  I refused to stop class every two minutes to tell my kids to stop talking.  There are a few kids who want to learn, and shouldn't have to be punished for the actions of those who view school as a social time.  Ms. Katherine told me her method.  She said she told the kids that anytime they are disrespectful or rude or anything she deems as inappropriate, she makes a mark on the board.  Three marks and the whole class has to stay during break or after school and write the appropriate consequence sentence 50 times (the whole high school had agreed to use a method that another teacher had devised where the student must write a pre-written sentence so many times as a consequence.  The idea is that the student will get sick of writing the sentence, that they will eventually stop their bad behavior).  Now, this may not seem fair to those in the class who did nothing wrong, but I also wanted them to keep each other accountable.

I explained to my 7th graders and the one 8th grade class that this rule probably wouldn't be in effect for them, since they were angels.  However, my 9th grade classes and the other 8th grade class, this was definitely needed!  Both of my 9th grade classes each received one mark, but they were silent and encouraged each other to pay attention, as well.  It worked!  I at last had found how to get through to these kids!  My last 8th grade class, well, they didn't quite make it and will have to return tomorrow during break.  However, I am so excited that my 9th graders have finally learned I mean business.  I am hoping this works and keeps them in line.  I told them that I am sick of having to stop class every two minutes.  That my sisters act better than they do...and they're the same age as my students.  Although they may not enjoy the next few weeks as I crack down on their behavior, I do hope that they learn to respect me and each other.  I want them to learn life lessons, as well as academics.

Urkupina

It's been a while since I last posted...I apologize.  I haven't been feeling the best this past week, so I pretty much went to work, came home and slept, ate dinner, and then slept some more.  But I wanted to update everyone on how the past week has been.

Last Sunday, Alma and Giovanni had taken Leah, Hannah, and I to the small town of Quillacollo, on the outskirts of Cochabamba.  There was a festival going on this past week called Urkupina.  It is said that at this town, on a nearby mountain, the Virgin Mary appeared to a small girl, so once a year they hold a festival celebrating the Virgin of Urkupina.  There is a small church in the town square that is very famous.  Many Catholics from other nations travel, or make a pilgrimage, to visit this famed church.  Many virgins come to pay homage, as well.  Many people also go to the hillside of Cota, where the Virgin was said to have appeared.  It is tradition for people to take home a rock from this hill as a sign of peace or good luck for the following year, and then return it a year later.  Who is to say that this rock is actually returned, but that is the tradition.  Although, this tradition has led to a small deterioration of the hillside.

        

Inside, the church is decorated and off the side, there is a large room, with a shrine to the Virgin Mary, where visitors lay down flowers and light candles.  It is a solemn process to see, and the variety of colors of the decorations and flowers are lovely to see.  As we walked around the town, the fragrance of the many flowers and food being cooked were a delight.  Vendors lined the sides of the road and alleyways.  We stopped frequently to look at things the people were selling, or to buy some type of food.  Giovanni and Alma's friend and her daughter (their goddaughter), Jessica also came along.  We were a merry little party as we strolled along the streets.

           


This festival is supposed to be a celebration of Bolivian culture and there were to be traditional dances, although by the time they actually began, we had left.  While we were sitting in the town square waiting for the dancers, Jessica ran happily up and down the street with her new kite.  At one point, she ran past Giovanni who leaped back out of the path of the kite.  In doing so, he threw his arms up and into the tray of a lady who was selling jello with whipped cream on top.  Giovanni's arm was covered with whipped cream and it began to drip onto his shoes and the ground.  There was a collective gasp, then chortles of laughter.  Hannah, Leah, and I tried to hide our laughter, but it was no use.  It was a sight to see.  Later on, we all teased Giovanni every time a vendor lady passed by with a tray of delights.

Everywhere I looked, there were ladies dressed in the traditional Bolivian dress of knee-length, almost velour type fabric skirts, with loose fitting blouses.  Their long black hair was usually braided into two braids down their back and tied with a ribbon at the bottom connecting the two braids.  They wore straw hats to ward off the sun, and either flip flops or flat black shoes.  There were also clowns who tried selling passerby's their toys and fun activities.  We also saw these two adorable little girls dancing in the streets.  They were dressed with the knee-length skirts, but had heavy button-up sweaters.  They both had straw hats on and were giggling as they danced.

One of the things that broke my heart, was seeing the tons of beggars that lined the streets.  They are not as prevalent in town, or maybe just where I normally walk, but for this holiday, they were everywhere, as there was more of a chance to receive a handout.  They would sit on the ground, with their arms outstretched waiting for someone to drop some coins in their hands.  They would be heavily dressed with mismatched clothes, sometimes sitting on bags, and other times sitting on the cold ground.  The part that really choked me up, was seeing the young kids sitting alongside their parents.  They, too, were all bundled up, and sometimes had blankets to cover them.  It was heartbreaking to see such young children forced into such poverty, to the point of begging.  I thought of my siblings, especially the ones from Russia, and thought how terrible that must have been for them, as they went through a similar experience.

                 


All in all, it was a fun day.  I learned more about Bolivia and its culture and history.  Although I didn't get to see the traditional dances, it was still a fun day, full of memories.

Going Down In History...

Ok, so I'm skipping a few days to write about today's events.  I have officially made my mark at the school and will be well-known among the high-schoolers.  The school has a strict, No Cell Phone policy.  Kids must have their phones in the lockers and only take them out during break and lunch.  Well, today, during first period (yes, it was the very first class of the day), a phone went off while I was teaching.  I asked the class who's phone went off.  No one admitted to it...typical.  One of the boys in the back said he knew it was from the group of girls in the front, which I knew as well, but wanted to give them an opportunity to come forward.  Tried to persuade them a few more times to be honest.  Reminded them about the school and classroom policy of no phones, and said that since they received their lockers yesterday, their phones should have been there.

When I did not get any results, I ran next door to Ms. Katherine, the 10-12 English teacher.  She is from England and has the most wonderful accent.  I explained the problem and asked her advice.  With a warning to her class not to make a sound, she came over to my class and also tried to persuade the culprit to come forward.  We both told the class that whomever came forward would be punished, as per the policy, but it would not be as bad as if they lied about it.  After a few minutes of unsuccessfully persuading them, Ms. Katherine went off to get the High-School principal.  My class began murmuring and pointing out who they thought the guilty party was.  I had had enough at this point, and told the class to put their heads down on their desks until the principal arrived.  I told them if they were going to act like little children, I would treat them as such.  They hurriedly obeyed and for the next few moments, the class was silent.

The principal, school director, and the college coordinator (who assigned the lockers the day before) all paraded into the room.  The kids lifted their heads.  Ms. Alma, the director began sternly telling the kids about the school policy and how they should know what the rules are.  Mr. Kuster, the principal, chimed in about respect for teacher (me) and how it was cutting into their class time.  Ms. Alma demanded that all cell phones be placed onto the desks in front of them.  About 10 phones were then confiscated among cries of despair and groans.  Many kids protested that it was unfair as they have yet to get a lock on their locker.  How were their valuables to remain safe?  Ms. Alma calmly replied that when they showed her a lock, they would get their phones back.  Other students said it was unfair that all of their phones were taken away when only the culprit's phone should be taken.  Ms. Alma explained that a rule was a rule, no matter whose phone went off.  They were all violating the rule.

After the chaos had subsided, the rest of the 10 minutes of class were excruciatingly painful.  The glares of dislike I received and low mumbles of being treated unfairly were very evident.  After a few minutes, I eventually gave up.  I was annoyed and so the kids...no learning was going to take place in the next 6 minutes.

The rest of the day turned out to be ok, until my other 9th grade class a few periods later.  I asked how many students had phones on their persons.  A few raised their hands.  I told them to put them on their desks.  About 5 did as I had asked.  I promptly took them into custody and informed them that they would have to see Mr. Kuster about getting them back.  I knew that others had them, but were just not being honest.  Oh well.  Again, there were complaints and pleadings to get them back.  Students kept saying I was being unfair and tricking them.  I reviewed the rules with them, and told them they needed to start obeying them.  A few of the boys tried to trick me and say that I had my phone.  I explained that as the room was my locker, it was ok.  Plus, I did not have it out during class, and as a teacher, I am entitled to certain rights the students are not.  We got through the rest of class fairly well, although they tried their best to get their phones back.

At the end of the day, one will usually find a group of teachers near the office waiting to clock out, as we are not allowed to clock out until 330.  As I approached the group soon before 330, one of the teachers commented on how weary I was looking.  I explained what happened, and there was a cry of astonishment that I was the "dreaded" teacher who had inflicted this terrible punishment on the kids.  The other teachers were very supportive and agreed that I had done the best thing possible.  I felt a moment of pride as I knew that I would be quite famous around the high school...at least for the next few days, possibly weeks.  Students would know that I was not going to be lenient with them and they would not be able to just walk all over me.  I may be young and inexperienced, but I know what I'm doing....or at least I just pretend I do.  Hopefully, the kids will respect me for what I did, although I don't imagine their feelings of dislike and possibly hatred, will disappear by tomorrow.  Good thing there is only two days of school left this week and I would most likely be gone most of tomorrow on visa stuff.  For my revenge on the kids, I planned on them writing a short essay on what the meaning of respect means....now, let's see how much more they like me :)

First Weekend Out

My weekend was pretty good.  Friday night was my first experience of night life in Bolivia.  One of the other teachers had a Jazz concert that she was in, so Hannah, Leah, and a few other teachers went to go show our support.  I'm not a big fan of Jazz, but this was actually pretty good.  There was a variety of music and singing.  The evening began with Ms. Lili, Hannah's co-operating teacher, picking us up in front of the school.  It was a bit windy as as we sat, I watched the trash and dirt in the streets swirl around making mini tornadoes at times.

We arrived at the place of the concert, which was called Palacio Portales.  It was an actual palace designed by a French architect in the early 1900s.  It was created for Bolivian millionaire, Simon Iturri Patino, who from what I understand, never actually lived in it.  It was nestled on acres of beautiful land, with gardens designed after the gardens of the Versailles Palace in France.  The architecture was magnificent and a sight to behold.  We entered and I was again awed at the grandeur of this place.  Such detail and precision.  The ceilings looked like paintings from the Sistine Chapel.  We found our seats, and since there was time before the concert began, Hannah, Leah, and I ventured upstairs to look around.  I began snapping pictures, creating documentation.  After about 5 minutes, one of the security guards came upstairs and began yelling at us.  His Spanish was so rapid, so I only caught the words, "prohibito" and "no photographs."  Whoops...I hid my camera as we were herded downstairs.
           




The concert began, and Hannah and I sat with two other elementary school teachers.  Leah sat across the aisle with the High School principal and two other high school teachers.  During the concert, I happened to glance over at Leah and her group, and quickly nudged Hannah.  Danny's head was tilted back and he eyes were nearly shut, Leah had the most bored look on her face as she stared ahead, and Andres was leaning forward with his head in his hands.  Those three embodied the essence of bored to tears!  It was hilarious to see, and Hannah and I were greatly amused.

After the concert, a group of us decided to go out for dinner and some drinks.  We walked down the street to a local restaurant, where we had pizza and some drinks.  I had so much fun getting to know these teachers outside of school, and even the elementary teachers, who I really had no interaction with.  We left the restaurant to go to Andres's apartment for some more fun.  We literally squeezed about 5 or 6 of us girls into the backseat of one of the vehicles.  At the apartment, we continued having fun until a knock at the door about half an hour later stopped us.  It was the neighbor upstairs who was pretty upset at how loud we were...oops!!  We hurriedly left, again cramming into the car to go to FranCois Lounge, where we continued dancing and getting to know each other better.  A few hours later, we all headed home.  It was a wonderful first night out and so full of memories.

Saturday was spent mostly being lazy...just a typical Saturday for me.  I lounged around, blogging, getting on FB, and avoiding doing any work.  In the evening, I went to dinner with Alexis and her husband David.  We went to a small pizza place and spent our time catching up.  It was so great seeing them both and it was almost unreal that I was here, in Bolivia with them.  They showed me some of downtown, and it was interesting to see the drastic change between the north and south side of Cochabamba.  The south side was more full of indigenous people, while the north side held more sophisticated people.  Not to say that the south side was sleazy or less sophisticated, but it was very different.  People dressed differently and even walked differently.  It's difficult to describe coming from such a small town back home, but here in Bolivia, there are different social classes, and people tend to congregate in certain areas if they are from a certain social class.  As I remain here for the next year, I'm anxious to explore all aspects of Cochabamba and experience more of the city.

Missing Home

Ok, so I've been here in Bolivia for about a week.  I've been so overwhelmed with everything: learning a new culture, the language barrier, living in a new home, getting to know new people, and teaching.  It has made me really miss being home.  I realize that I have four months until I'm home for a visit, and about a year until I'm home for good.  Let me clarify though, I do love being here in Bolivia.  I love experiencing the new culture and meeting so many amazing people.  The scenery is amazing and food, delicious.  However, there are things I miss about home:

*Eating:
 Here, I'll eat a light breakfast (usually grabbing a buttered roll on the way out the door), small lunch, and small dinner, unless I go out to eat.  I'm not a large eater by nature, but sometimes I need more.  I'm still not used to the food here, so I tend to opt for lighter meal until my body can adjust to the new foods.  I'm also used to eating at certain times during the day.  Dinner, in Bolivia, is usually not eaten until around 730 or 8.  Not that I can't grab a snack earlier, but I'm used to a certain way.

*Showers:
Ok, so the shower situation is I have about 4-5 minutes of hot water before the hot water turns off and I'm shivering as I finish up.  I miss having tons of hot water at my disposal and savoring that time.  It's  nothing too major, but still makes me miss home.

*Heat:
Yes, it is the end of winter, and it's cooler in the mornings and evenings, but in the houses, there is no heat.  The floors are ceramic tiles, so they freeze your feet off.  Everyone always has their windows open, too, which doesn't make much sense (I keep my window closed), but oh well.  I mostly stay bundled up under my covers in my room most of the time to stay warm.

*Resources:
At school, we are limited with supplies.  Or rather, there is a system in which we must order supplies and then wait 24-48 hours to receive them.  This goes for all copies and any materials, such as dry erase markers, pens, pencils, and clock batteries.  Oh, and we are restricted to certain numbers of each items.  It's very different having to account for everything.  I'm used to going into the copy room and pounding out a bunch of copies at a moment's notice.  The system is what's best for the school, but it makes any teaching frustrating.

*My Friends and Family:
I miss being able to just call or text my friends and family at any point in time to hang out.  I do enjoy making new friends and hanging out, but I dearly miss my old friends.  I miss going over to my parents and playing with my nephew...listening to him ask questions and give me squeezes.  I miss my sisters picking on me...well, ok, maybe not that lol.  But just being there and watching them grow up.  I'm devastated that I won't be there for Emily's dance recitals or Amy's gymnastics competitions.  I miss hearing everyone's voices...sure, I am able to email and Skype (when it works), but it's not the same.


Ok, so these are just a few things that I really miss about being home.  I do love it here, in Bolivia, and it's going to take some time to adjust.  I don't want to make it sound like I'm whining or complaining...well, ok, maybe a tiny bit, but the fact is, there are just some things that don't compare to home.  As much as I love it here, some things are just simply better at home :)

First Week is Over...Whew!

Thursday and Friday were hectic at work, with the schedule still being figured out and students switching classes.  The kids were still very friendly, and my ninth grade classes were slightly more calm, although they still acted up.  Friday, there was one student who came into class and greeted me with a "Yo, Molly!"  I immediately correctly him and told him to address me properly, then after class pulled him aside and told him he needed to start respecting his teachers and addressing them in a manner befitting for adults.  Kids...I dreaded to know what certain student's home lives were like if they were acting out like this.

That's what always gets me.  The home life has such a huge affect on children.  Back home in the states, I worked with behavioral challenged children and they more often than not, had terrible home lives; single parent homes, many step-siblings or half-siblings, drugs and alcohol.  Some kids were able to change their lives for the better from encouragement from teachers, friends, and other outside mentors.  Yet, so many got sucked into the bad life, acting out in aggression and fear.  It was difficult to be too upset with a child because of knowing what they lived with everyday.  The same goes for my students, although it's almost the opposite.  Here the kids come from wealthy families and have almost anything they want, yet are handed material things, rather than experiencing relationships with their parents.

I want to be the teacher that helps inspire greatness in my students and among other kids I work with.  I want my students to feel comfortable with me to trust me with their problems.  I want to be that mentor for them and help them with more than just academics.  I watched a video today about a teacher somewhere in the states who teaches chemistry and physics, and makes it fun and interesting for his students.  He inspires them to want to learn.  And that's what I want as a teacher.  Make learning fun.  Ignite a passion for learning.  Then, I stop and remember that this is my first year teaching.  It's ok if I'm not the most inspiring teacher ever...I'm still learning how to teach.I need to remember to not set the bar too high for myself in regards to expectations.  I've always heard that the first year of teaching, you're just trying to stay afloat.  Well, I definitely feel like that.  Trying to create my own curriculum is difficult, let alone teaching a bunch of foreign kids.  It's going to be a challenging year, but hopefully a great one; full of learning experiences, mistakes, and lessons to learn.

That being said, my first week went great, even though it was only three days.  I was called the "cool" teacher, got to meet all my students, and have been as tired as ever.  These next few weeks of creating my first unit and continuing to learn who my students are will be difficult and challenging.  I just need to remember "just keep swimming, just keep swimming..." I'll get through it with lots of help and encouragement from the other teachers, the support and love from my family and friends, and lots of venting!!  Lol!

Bolivian Independence Day

On Monday, I found myself, once again, at the school preparing my classroom.  I finished hanging the paper on the bulletin boards and tried to decorate them the best that my non-artistic self could.  Although the walls looked a little bare now, they would soon be filled with student's work...or at least I hoped they would.  Lunch was provided by the school board, although I couldn't understand a word they said in their speech...was gonna have to work on my Spanish!!  The rest of the time was spent preparing the class and trying to figure out what I was going to teach the three days the kids would be here this week.

Finished Classroom

        

In the evening, I went over to Hannah and Leah's again, where we spent the evening around the truth table.  We laughed and shared our stories over vino and our game Chronology, which we still have to play a full game of.  It was also a great day, as we did not have school the following day due to a holiday: Bolivia's Independence Day.

Tuesday, I was able to relax in the morning.  I took a walk around the neighborhood and watch, amused, at the young kids playing in the park.  I returned home after climbing the brutal hill and sat in the courtyard blogging and listening to the sounds around me.  The birds were fluttering about in trees above me and I could hear the kids prattling about.  Dogs barked loudly at passerby's and I could hear the rumble of the buses as they traveled their route.  Later in the afternoon, Hannah, Leah, and I were escorted by Giovanni downtown to watch the parade where the Bolivian President and Vice-President would be in attendance.  We parked at the tennis club and Giovanni showed us around and we at lunch.

Vice President is the gray-haired guy, President is to his left

We hurried outside after lunch, down the crowded streets, to where the President and Vice-President would be standing.  There were people everywhere and it was difficult for me to see over people's heads.  Soon the parade started and we watched the brightly clothed marching band come down the street with the President and Vice-President following.  They stepped onto a platform from where they would watch the rest of the parade.  I had turned to join Leah, as she had stepped over to the side, and apparently at that point, the Vice-President saw Hannah (who is quite tall and looks very non-Bolivian) and started waving at her.  Then he nudged the President and pointed Hannah out.  It was a cool experience.  We wandered around the park for a while and then went to get homemade ice cream. It was a nice way to end the day.

Day Trip to the Countryside

Sunday, the 4th, Alma and Giovanni took Leah, Hannah, and I to the neighboring countryside Tarata.  It was about a 30/40 minute drive outside Cochabamba.  On the way out, it was interesting to see how much of the hillsides were covered in houses.  

They made Hunter's Ridge (a steep hill back home) look like a molehill!  As we traveled, the vegetation slowly became more green as the pollution of the city thinned out.  There was still trash covering the road, but the scenery was breathtaking.  The river was full of people washing clothes, while the areas closer to the road were covered with human car washers.  At one point, we had to stop to pay a toll.  I think it might have been to cross "counties?"  Anyways, all along the road, there were people going up to car/bus windows looking to sell newspapers, food, drinks...anything.

Shortly after the toll, we pulled off to the side of the road so we could get some Empanada's, or cheese filled bread.  It so so delicious!!!

While Alma got these, Giovanni took Leah, Hannah, and I down the hill to the river where we watched a family wash clothes.  There was a rather rugged looking wooden bridge that crossed the river.  We looked at each other apprehensively.  Dare we try crossing it?  Leah was the brave one and finally took the first step to cross it.  The rest of us held our breaths as we watched Leah step hesitantly, placing her foot at precise places as to not fall through the holes  or loosen any nails holding the thin strips of wood above the water.  She finally made it and beckoned the rest to follow.  Hannah eagerly stepped forward, and as I followed in behind, Giovanni told me he would just wait for our return right where he was.  Couldn't blame him, I thought as I tiptoed across the bridge.  I was scarier crossing it than it looked. Us three girls made it and headed back to Giovanni and the delicious treat that awaited us.  As we climbed the small hill back to the car, we looked at a native Bolivian scamper across the bridge easily, as if he was walking along a normal path.




As we munched on our food, we finished the car ride to Tarata.  It was a small town nestled in the hillside that boasted of a well-known monastery.  We parked at the plaza in the center of town and walked around the beautifully vegetated square.  There was an old church we wandered into that held a massive pipe organ.  We didn't venture too far into the church as there was a mass going on, so we continued on our way.  We stopped at a little square where local women were selling their wares of fruits and vegetables, among other trinkets and items.  The women wore brightly colored skirts with wide brimmed hats.  Their long black hair was usually done in two pigtails down their back and tied with ribbon at the bottom.  Their wrinkled faces smiled as we walked by, and they would mumble something in Spanish to us, gesturing us to look at their supplies.  We smiled and continued on to the monastery which was further up the hill.


The smells of the town were making my stomach rumble as they surrounded us.  Soups, bread, and other delicacies were brewing in the native's pots as we walked by.  I watched as little children played in the streets and prattled on in Spanish.  It was weird hearing young children talk in a different language, but I smiled as they shyly glanced at us.  We finally made it to the monastery, but it was closed, so we browsed through the pottery that was being sold outside.  After a few purchases, we continued to another nearby town (I cannot remember the name), that was famous around the area for making ceramics.  We began to hunt around the land for pieces of ceramics and were pleasantly rewarded.  We all found quite a few pieces of unbroken pottery that were probably thrown out because of defects.  No matter, it was still interesting to us.

                 

As we traveled back, we stopped at a few places where Alma and Giovanni begged the owners to let us look at their ceramic making places.  Leah, an avid ceramics and art fan was in heaven.  We continued on to a nearby resort, called Largo del Eden, which was a well-known place for lunches and afternoon fun.  It was located on the lake (largo) where visitors could ride swan shaped paddle boats or go across the lake on a zipline swing.  Us three girls opted to go on the zipline, which was a fun treat.  We also walked around the lake soaking in its beauty and peacefulness.  It was the perfect end to a wonderful day.

                   

The Truth Table

Back to catching up on the past weekend...

Saturday, I moved into the director, Alma's, house.  She lives with her husband, Giovanni, in a quaint little house surrounded by a walled in courtyard.  The courtyard hosted a cozy little area full of trees and shrubs where I easily envisioned myself sitting and blogging or working.  There was also a small garden house where their maid used to live.  

Inside the house, the dining room and living room were spacious and covered with potted plants and tile floors.  Straight ahead through the door, was the kitchen.  Up a short flight of stairs to the right were two rooms, one my bedroom, and one Alma's office.  My room hosted a bed, nightstand, desk, and dresser.  It was very nice and cozy, despite being freezing cold.  It was winter, after all, and Giovanni explained that the house was usually cold in the winter and cool in the summer.  I would just have to bundle up for a few weeks.

I need to back up for moment and relive when Alma came to pick me up from the hotel.  The guy who helped me wheel my suitcases to the car was a smaller gentleman, around my height.  He insisted on wheeling all of my suitcases out by himself and when he was lifting them into the car, I thought he was going to have a hernia.  It definitely took all of his strength to lift each suitcase into the car, and by the end, he was huffing and puffing up a storm.  He  looked like he was ready to keel over right then and there.  Guess he got his arm workout in for the day...

I unpacked at Alma's and shortly after that, Leah and Hannah came over to chill.  They lived two blocks away so we would be seeing lots of each other.  The three of us, escorted by Giovanni, decided to check out the small stores down the street for some cerveza, or beer.  The girls had already gotten three bottles of vino (wine) and we were looking to try other things...and no, we are not really all alcoholics, but when in Bolivia...   We all walked back to Hannah and Leah's apartment and I ended up staying and chatting.  We had a grand old time talking and sharing stories about our lives growing up.  In their apartment building, they have a roof that looks over the city, which looks impressive at night.  When it was too cold to sit outside, we went back down to the apartment and continued our story telling around, what is now called, the "Truth Table."  There, we shared deep stories about each of us and talked about, well, girl stuff.  It was a fun night, filled with laughter and great memories.

               

First Day of School

Ok, so I'm taking a break in my narrative to share about my first day of school with my kiddos...

I woke up around 530am, but just laid in bed for a good half hour texting a friend of mine from back home.  I just wasn't ready to face the day yet.  Eventually, I got up, though and got ready.  I must have changed my outfit about three times before I settled down on an okay outfit.  It would have to do.  Grabbed breakfast and some hot tea and walked the two blocks to meet up with Hannah and Leah.  It was going to be nice walking down with people.  We got to campus and I went to pick up my homeroom information from the office...I was informed last night that I was going to be one of the 9th grade homerooms.  Yikes!  Anyways, I got my information and went to set up my room for the day.  I wrote down the abbreviated schedule on the board and prepared my notes.  The store did not have any of my copies ready for me, so I had to improvise and plan that for tomorrow.  Oh well, I'm sure I would have enough to get through today.

As the bell sounded around 7:55, my 9th grade kids started filing into the room.  They immediately segregated into boys on one side of the room and girls on the other.  Oh, boy...not this already.  I briefly introduced myself and had the kids write down their names for attendance, as we did not have a roster yet (grr).  I explained the class rules and procedures briefly and told them what the day was going to look like.  They looked at me with bored faces as they glanced back and forth at their classmates.  One student kept things lively with his humor and questions.  Around 8:45, I gathered up my room to head down to the assembly.  I had warned my kids that I expected good behavior from them.  We headed down, boys leading out in front, and the girls lollygagging behind.  I kept having to call for the girls to hurry up.  I was getting annoyed, and I hadn't even started actually teaching yet...

The assembly was basically giving some rules to the high school and introducing the teachers, which didn't take long.  Of course, my kids had to be the class that stood up at the wrong time...and continued to stand until being yelled at to sit down by the director.  Sigh...not a good start at all.  After the assembly, I began the nerve-wracking business of actually teaching.  Today wasn't too bad, is it was mostly introductions, going over rules and expectations, and  getting contact information.  My 7th and 8th graders were absolutely precious and were so attentive.  The one class even called me the "cool teacher."  I was happy :)  Not that I want to the teacher that gets walked all over, but I do want my students to like and respect me.

Let me briefly explain how the classes work at Calvert (the school).  Each grade is split into two groups, BLUE and YELLOW...I'm assuming because these are the school colors.  In elementary school, there are two teachers for each grade and they usually split the classes they teach.  So one teacher might have both groups for English and Social Studies, while the other teacher has both groups for Math and Science.  In the high school levels, we all the groups in our grade, everyday.  So everyday, I have six periods: two groups of each grade.

My 9th graders are going to be my hardest bunch.  They're at that age, where they think they know everything and so they can afford to goof off and sleep.  Yup, I had sleepers on the first day of class.  I had to reprimand them a few times on respecting me and their classmates.  It's going to be a loooong year!!

Over all, though, it was a good first day.  I'm going to drive myself crazy learning everyone's names, but eventually I'll get it.  I already nicknamed one kid "You," which seemed to amuse him and the class.  I think this year is going to be great, but challenging.  It's definitely going to take me a while to get into "teacher mode," as I still feel like I'm just subbing in a class.  This time, I have to actually create lesson plans and unit plans...for real...not just for a class of make believe students.  Gulp!

I was exhausted by the end of the day, but still had to get downtown for Giovanni to help me get a SIM card for my Bolivian phone.  While we were there, he mapped out the public transportation system for me, and sent my head spinning with road names, bus routes, and which corners to stay at for certain buses.  It was very helpful, though, and hopefully by the time I leave I'll at least have some road names and routes memorized.  After all, I've lived in Johnstown for about 22 years and still have yet to know road names and various routes.  I am looking forward to this year, even though about half of my students might drive me up a wall.  I am anxious to see if I enjoy teaching enough to continue to make a career out of it.  I know I love kids and interacting with them.  I like pushing students to do their best, and making learning fun and interesting.  Too many times, I think teachers are more interested in the texts that they don't let students have fun.  I want my kids to enjoy learning and be creative.

Homesick...

Friday was again, spent at the school preparing our classrooms.  When I arrived at the school, I went to gather my supplies from the school store, but they were still not in.  They said to check back in after our meeting at 9:30.  I spent most of the morning in Alexis's room, helping her decorate and cover her bulletin boards.  I also helped her with her inventory list, since hers was one of the ones that was two pages long.  I loved the way she had set up her classroom, using various props and decorations.  I envied how creative she was, but she reminded me that this was her third year teaching and she had accumulated all of it from years prior.

Around 9:30, we all headed over to the auditorium for a workshop.  The professor from NY who had come down with the two student teachers was giving a workshop on how to promote an English speaking only atmosphere.  Since it is an English speaking school, it's often challenging to get student to only speak English since they are so used to speaking Spanish.  Most of the teachers, myself included, were interested in the workshop, but were anxious to get back to our classrooms.  There was so much to do and not enough time.  After the workshop, a lady from HR came in to go over procedures and rules with us...again.  That's when it got interesting.  People were in an uproar over some of the rules and made several outbursts.  Things like teachers weren't allowed to cut in front of students to get their lunch and personal day requirements were much debated and argued over.  I sat back, amused, at the personalities erupting and kind of felt bad for the HR lady.  After all, she was only the messenger from the administration...

 About an hour later, things still were not resolved, but we were all dismissed for lunch.  It was a brief lunch, as everyone wanted to get back to their classrooms.  I got my stuff from the school store, which it was finally there, and returned to my room.  I began tearing down all the old paper and setting up the new stuff.  I still had no clue what I was going to put on each board, but the new bright colors cheered me up.  I stuck my headphones in began dancing and singing along as I worked.  Around 2:30 I had to stop for a high school meeting in the library.  I received my schedule, but no roster, so I still had no clue how many students I had.  However, I had two classes for each grade.  Six classes a day...not too bad.  I was anxious to see who my students were and how everyone would get along.  After the meeting, I finished hanging up the butcher paper on the bulletin boards and called it a day.  I would finish everything on Monday.  I returned to the hotel, exhausted again, but happy I had gotten some stuff accomplished.

That evening, as I chatted online with family and friends, I began to become really homesick.  What was I doing?  Was I really not going to get to see my friends and family for 4 straight months?  I missed my sisters, my nephew, my friends and family; the ability to get food that I liked by just walking  into the kitchen.  I missed the comfort of my own bed.  I even missed the smells of home.  Did I make a big mistake in coming here?  After all, the financial situation was not the best.  Do I just call it quits and return home?  I mulled over these questions with two of my close friends back home and they both told me the same thing: "stick it out;  you committed to a year.  Yes, we miss you and you miss us, but it's for four months.  You can do it."  They really encouraged me, even though I was still feeling down.  It was going to be a long four months.

First Day at the School

I woke up early on Thursday, anxious to see the school for the first time.  I was also hoping to see my friend Alexis and reunite with her.  I was picked up around 8:30 and again cringed as we weaved in and out of traffic.  The school was located on a hill, well, a mountain, as was everything else that surrounded the city.  We entered the side gate and as I entered the campus, I immediately fell in love with it.  Despite it being located on a hill, it was covered with lush green trees and brick buildings.  To my right was a soccer field and the center was a small circle with benches and tables.  Beyond that was a large white building, which I learned held all of the administration offices.  Up to my left was a large group of people, which I found out were all the teachers.  The school was hosting a breakfast for all of the teachers and people were just waiting for it to be laid out.  As I walked up, I saw Alexis and immediately went to talk with her.  I couldn't believe it...I was finally in Bolivia.  With Alexis.  Teaching at the same school.  It was a little unreal.

Part of the center of campus

During breakfast, I was introduced to more teachers.  They were all very friendly and open to helping me with anything and everything.  One teacher, in particular, Katherine was very helpful.  She was from England and had the coolest accent.  She was also the 10-12 grade English teacher and was going to be in the room right next to mine, so she was eager to help show me the ropes.  After breakfast, we all had to go to the auditorium where Alma went over rules and expectations of the school and of us as teachers.  It was overwhelming, and felt a little overbearing as if the administration was telling us what not to do, rather how to encourage us in teaching.  I know it is similar in any school setting, but as this was my first time teaching, I especially felt it heavily.  Administrators create rules and boundaries without creating solutions, which causes difficulty for educators to enforce these rules while still maintaining a learning atmosphere.

As the meeting droned on, I looked around at all my colleagues.  The majority were women, but there were a handful of men.  Most of the people looked native, although a few looked out of place.  Surprisingly, I looked like I could fit in.  I had the dark hair and skin, although my facial features were slightly different.  Here was one of the first places I felt like a majority, without actually being part of the majority.  I was liking Bolivia so far.

After the meeting, I went with Alexis to get our room keys and inventory.  Each room had an inventory of what was there and we had to go through and check to make sure everything was accounted for.  Lucky for me, my inventory was barely half a page, while others were two full pages.  The office ended up not having my key, as we think the last teacher simply did not return them.  I was told that a worker would open up my room later, so I went with Alexis to her room.  Man, was that a hike!  I was definitely going to be getting my exercise while at work this year.  We caught up as I watched her clean out her closet and begin to set up her classroom.  Watching her made me anxious to get to my own classroom and see what it had in store for me.  She walked me through the system of ordering school supplies, which is a pain.  Every little thing needs to be accounted for, so you need to list exactly what you want and how many.  And certain things, you're only allowed to get so many of.  So, for instance, everyone is only allowed one box of staples at a time, or one set of dry erase markers.  And when you need a new one, you need to tape it to the back of your next order form.  Now, I realize that being a small private school, not much can be taken for granted, but still...  The entire system was a bit too regimental for my liking.  However, this was going to be my place of employment for the next year, so I had better get used to it.

The view from Alexis's room was amazing.  The mountains that surrounded Cochabamba were beautifully dotted with trees and houses.  She had a great view of the other side of campus with a small playground for the younger grades.  We all ate lunch, which consisted of chicken and rice, with vegetables.  I was cautioned not to eat any lettuce or strawberries during my stay in Bolivia.  My stomach would not be able to handle that, but everything else I could eat, but just be prepared for my body getting used to new foods.  After lunch, I went up to my room, which had been opened for me.

The bulletin boards still had paper on them, and I was excited to see two white boards and not a lot of white space on the walls that I would have to fill up.  I had already determined to change the colors on the board, but now it was all about coming up with what to put on them.  I started doing my inventory, which took all of 10 minutes.  Then rearranged my closet and began looking at the textbooks.  The closet smelled somewhat musty, but at least it nice and cool.  My classroom was going to be in an interesting spot as far as temperature...cold in the mornings and then hot in the afternoons.  Plus, my view wasn't the best.  But I did have a lot of windows, so I was satisfied.

I finished cleaning out my room and ordered supplies to decorate my boards.  I would have to wait until tomorrow to finish decorating.  I moseyed over to Katherine's room next door to see what she was doing.  We talked for a while and she gave me ideas on what to do with my class.  By this time, it was the end of the day and I was exhausted.

I went to the store and since I was still at the hotel and didn't have a stove or microwave, I had to find something that I could have for dinner that didn't require heating up or refrigeration.  As I walked into the store past the check-out lines, a young clerk came running up to me.  Again, we had difficulty with the language barrier, but he was trying to tell me I had to leave my purse at the desk.  Apparently, to prevent shop lifting, people are required to leave their bags in a locker at the front of the store.  It was an interesting concept.  I wandered around the store looking for what to get for dinner.  I was going to get bread and jelly, but the jelly would need refrigerated.  Fruit?  Well, I was still trying to be careful what kinds of fruit I ate until my body got used to the different foods.  Then I saw the perfect solution: Snack Pack Pudding Packs!  Something I was familiar with that didn't require any electronic devices to eat.  So, my second dinner in Bolivia was not the most nutritional or filling, but it worked.  Got to go with what you have sometimes.

Cochabamba

After my delicious treat, I headed into the security check point area.  Again, with the language barrier, it was difficult to communicate with the security guy.  He kept asking for my ticket, which I showed him repeatedly.  After a frustrating 5 minutes of gesturing, I finally understood...he wanted my old boarding ticket, from my previous flight.  I was allowed to enter and as I sat waiting, I did my favorite thing of people watch.  Next to me sat a family with two young boys.  The older one was a bit mischievous and was made to sit in time-out at one point with the mother, while the younger one went off with their father.  The topics covered were why the boys had to start school soon and scolding for picking on the younger brother.  At on point during the time-out, there was an announcement on the speakers and the mother told the mischievous youngster that the they were saying they were coming to get him if he didn't behave.  It made me chuckle as I thought that is the same thing I would probably do.  And it worked, as the boy settled down.

Cochabamba

I finally boarded the plane and settled in for the 45 min. ride to Cochabamba.  As I looked out the window, all I could see were houses upon houses in a brown dry dust.  I had to keep reminding myself that it was winter and the trees and flowers were not yet in bloom.  It was bound to become more appealing visually as winter ended.  The plane landed, I gathered my large suitcases, and headed out of the terminal.  Would I know what the director of the school looked like?  I wheeled my baggage with much difficulty outside of the large group of people waiting by the doors.  There was a tall lady who kept staring at me as I paused with my luggage.  She hesitantly walked towards me.  "Molly?" she asked.  It was Alma, the director.  I hoped she had brought a large vehicle as we walked towards the door.  Turns out, she brought the school messenger and they brought the school van.  Good...my bags would all fit.  I couldn't help but notice the messenger's look of surprise as he lifted my suitcases into the car.  They seemed a bit heavier than he realized, I think.  Oh well, I was staying for a whole year, after all.

We made our way to the hotel where I was to be staying for a few days.  As we weaved in and out of traffic, I was tempted to cringe at times.  It was like being in Russia; weaving between the non-existent lines on the road, narrowly missing other cars and people.  Everywhere I looked, there were bright colors from the architecture and graffiti on the walls.  People were very free with their horns, and the slightest aggravation would cause them to tap their horns at others, whether pedestrians or vehicles.  We arrived at the hotel where I freshened up and took a much needed nap.

Graffiti along the road

That evening, Alma came to pick me up for a dinner with the two student teachers from New York.  We walked into the restaurant and sat down at the table where the student teachers, their professor, Joanna, and Alma's husband Giovanni were waiting.  The girls were very animated as they spoke to Giovanni asking what words were in Spanish or what the meals were.  We did introductions and I learned that Hannah would be in 3rd grade and Leah was helping to teach high school art.  They were very friendly and I could tell we would become good friends...once I caught up on my sleep, that is.  I had difficulty refraining from yawning and looked forward to returning back to my hotel.  The rest of the group was very talkative and there were random outbursts of laughter from Hannah and Leah's end of the table.  I was looking forward to getting to know them better.  Dinner finally ended and we all walked Joanne back to her hotel.  There was a summit going on with some of the South American countries about capitalism in Cochabamba, and many important political figures were staying at her hotel.  Walking up to the hotel I again felt like I was in Russia.  Military personnel were standing all over the place and watched us like hawks.  We were able to get in and out with no difficulty, and I returned to my hotel.  The next day was going to my first time seeing the school campus and I was anxious to get my rest.

Santa Cruz

I finally landed in Santa Cruz, Bolivia.  Here, I had about a 5 hour layover and had to switch plans to make my final flight to Cochabamba.  This meant I had to go through Immigration, pick up my suitcases, recheck in, deposit my bags, and then wait to board my plane.  The gentleman I sat next to, again, helped me get my carry-on down, which was much appreciated.  After getting off the plane, everyone had to wait for about 45 minutes for Immigration.  As we wound around through the path marked out for us, I noticed only two booths were open.  Another booth in the back was open, but apparently that guy only approved people for Visas, not actually processing them for people to get into the country.  I watched him as the line moved.  He simply stared at the wall, watching the non-existent paint drying.  Didn't move a muscle, one arm leaning on his desk, the other thrown over the wall of his booth.

It was my turn to show my visa and went through the process fairly quickly.  As I searched for my bags at the baggage claim, which was simply all the suitcases gathered together in the next room, a Bolivian man came up to me with a cart.  Through gestures, as he did not speak English and I did not speak Spanish, we managed to find all of my suitcases.  He grunted a little as he put them onto his cart, and I kind of felt bad for him.  But, he insisted on doing it all on his own.  He motioned me to get in line to exit that area.  Exiting the terminal, I had to push a button as I went through a metal detector.  It had flashed green for the girl in front of me, which I assumed that it meant to go.  However, when I pushed the button, it flashed red.  Uh-oh, what did that mean?  My gracious guide motioned for me to go over to the side...apparently the red meant random bag check.  Great, just my luck.  My guide heaved my bags onto the table and the security guards motioned for me to open them.  I unzipped the suitcases and they opened them.  As my luck would have it, most of my dedicates just happened to be on top...how embarrassing!  After they proceeded to let the rest of the terminal know the contents of my suitcases, they zipped them back up and I proceeded to exit into the main terminal.  

My guide gestured to me, asking if I needed a taxi.  I replied no and pulled out my ticket for my next flight.  He studied it, handed it back to me, and said "vamanos," which means "come."  I had barely put the paper back into my back when he took off down the crowded hall, almost literally pushing people out the way.  "Pardon!" he called out when people did not see him.  Every few steps he would glance back to make sure I was keeping up with him.  I barely was, and was very winded by the time we arrived at the correct check-in desk.  No wonder he was so skinny!  I went to check in and the lady told me that because my flight was not for many hours later, I had to wait until 11:30 to check my bags in....and this was at 8:30.  Great, two hours of twiddling my thumbs.  My guide deposited my bags at a wall nearby and and I handed him his tip, he zipped off in search of another customer.  I pulled my bags off to the side near a plug, where I could charge my phone.  After a few games of candy crush and flow free, I figured out the airport had free wifi!!  Awesome! I could get on Facebook, check email, and chat with people.  

My luggage

The two hours flew by and in the midst of being in electronic heaven, I found myself people watching.  An adorable little girl, about 2 years old was playing with a cart nearby, climbing all over it.  To my left, a group was busy taking pictures and kissing each other as friends reunited.  Everyone spoke Spanish, and I felt almost left out...the language barrier made it much more difficult to eavesdrop on other people's conversations.  As I continued to look around the airport, I noticed it...Cinnabon!!!  I was so excited, I could barely contain myself.  I still had about an hour left to go until I could check my bags in, but then it was go time.  I hadn't eaten since my chicken fingers the night before and the thought of American food...I was practically drooling.  At last, I could check my bags in.  When I was done, I raced towards the escalator and towards Cinnabon.  Then I stopped, I hoped they accepted dollars as I had yet to change any money into Bolivianos, the local currency.  I asked hesitantly, and much to my happiness, the did.  Whew.  I sat savoring the heavenly roll, as I prepared myself for the flight.  I was almost there.

My American food :)