Archive for April, 2008

The next day I sat in on Rebecca’s class as she used some of the resources from the department’s library. At first glance it seemed amazingly well-stocked. However I was to realise later that a lot of the books were the same ones in a series and a lot of them appeared to have been given as part of a “deal” with a particular publisher.

  The kids were duly quiet and listened to Rebecca as she started the video but her lack of familiarity with the material was woefully apparent not too far into the lesson.

  There followed another observation of Miss Paola’s class. Slightly better quality teaching in terms of engagement with the class however if I had any hopes of seeing her calling her pupils by their names they were soon dashed.

I got a lift with one of the other teachers back to Yolanda’s where I napped then headed in on the long journey into town to buy stationery and try and maintain some contact with civilisation as I knew it. On these journeys I got to know more of Chilean culture. On one of the trips I tried to practice my Spanish and engaged in conversation with a chap sat next to me. He became more interested when I mentioned I was from ”Irlanda”.  Turning to me with a face flushed with passion as only a South American face can be he growled,”And what about the revolution, eh??!” There was no answer to that.

On this occasion the fellow passengers weren’t so ready to trumpet their (ill-informed) views. I got my messages done and was sitting in a McDonald’s eating when I looked at my watch - 7.25pm. I realised with horror I’d said to Jorge I’d meet him back at Yolanda’s at 7.30!! In a mild panic I ran to the Metro, burger and coke in hand, caught the train then got the bus and arrived, panting, at 8pm (a new record!)

Jorge had just arrived back from  the school with Yolanda and they were both giggling.He informed me I had 2 minutes to leave. ”Oh, don’t worry, is good for you, no?” were the words he offered me. He had however noticed my predicament regarding living with Yolanda and Pedro and had kindly arranged for me to be transferred to an acquaintance’s flat in the city centre.

 On the way back into the centre he stopped at Plaza des Armas and said he was “going to shop”, and returned back with a huge bag of KFC. I managed to down some of it on top of my Big Mac, as we went back to his flat then on to the “new” flat. It was at the junction of Santa Rosa and Alhumeda. Up several flights of stairs. Quite a small room but large living room/dining area. Terracota floor that was covered in lots of loose tiles, banging together when you walk over them. Still it was with an old guy on his own and in that respect quieter, more central and better. Best of all he had his own internet connection which I was free to use! Jorge sat and chatted amicable with my new “landlord”, asking about his pictures (one of Allende), complimenting him on them and enquiring what price they were. Outside Jorge told me he’d no intention of buying them:”I hate pictures like that!”. However the guy seemed a thousand times more reasonable than Pedro the cowboy. Until I saw the toilet…

OK, so I got through the first week, still finding my way around the school and Santiago. On Monday of the second week I was told to go in and observe the other teachers in action. What I saw was a little scary at first - Miss Paola didn’t know any of the kids’ names and just shouted at them as “boy” or “girl”. It was very much “lead from the front”, telling the students what to read and when. However to my pleasant surprise she got a group up to do some drama and they all loved doing that and participated fully. It was an, erm “flowing” lesson…

On Tuesday I was expecting to be given my “job description” by Mónica. What it boiled down to was I had to co-manage the soon-to-be-opened Self-Access Study Centre and teach two regular classes. I sat in on Monica’s 7th basic class, admiring the contrast from yesterday - a slow, well-spoken calm classroom teacher. The students seemed to respond with due respect. After that I sat in on Rebecca’s 6th advanced class. Similarly respectful but a little (no, a lot) less colourful.

The department had a “reunión”, the first of many. To be polite, and for my benefit,they started and ended the meeting in English. However most of it (the important exchanges) were in Spanish and I couldnt help but feel I was missing out.  We tried to deal with how we could all share the small space that was te staff office, office drawers, evaluation sheets for the classes, Then Carolina piped up saying there were different criteria for different classes. There was a reference to buying English books for the new centre and I was able to contribute that I had asked friends at home to send videos and CDs for the same. I thereby felt somewhat useful.

I had been kindly given a book, “Dos Mundos”, for learning Spanish, by Yolanda. It was a brilliant book  - with a chapter on “La clase y los estudiantes”. If I had a lot of time to spend on it, it should have helped ,u Spanish immensely. However I was still somewhat jetlagged, not to mention culture-shocked. Yesterday I had been introduced to six classes and brought what papers I had been asked to to the school for my work permit. Jorge was also ringing several schools in the Santiago area, enthusiastically, for me to take Spanish lessons…I had been told two friends of his were to be at the school today from the States also - Tom and Guillermo (Bill), both bankers.  However when we got to school he told me no, he’d got mixed up, it was tomorrow. I had also arrived home after another trip into town to see Yolanda up on a chair in the kitchen, screaming. Reason? Mouse.

  I was told to do more observation by Mónica and prepare. She suggested I do some crosswords on The Discovery Site. When I was doing assignments on structures and operations and how to teach mathermatics this was not what I’d had in mind as a job afterwards…(!)  Tim and Bill arrived. Bill and Jorge embraced and kissed as only South Americans can and at one point I thought they were crying. We all sat in the school canteen while classes were on, having a meal as if we were honoured guests. It was a very pleasant meal and I almost forgot I was in a school English department. I think Tim was glad of some English speaking company, knowing as he did next to no Spanish. At least I was able to follow the conversation between Bill and Jorge. All those hours of studying, getting books from the local library and reading my sister’s old Spanish novels was now paying dividends. At the end of the meal I had to pinch myself when Jorge said, “I love you, Bill” and Bill replied, “I love you too” befoer parting. After this I had to meet a man called George and get a mobile phone for Chile (my own wouldn’t work on the South American waveband) as well as visa papers and my work contract. Getting visa papers entailed queueing in the Banco Santander in town for quite a long time. Many South Americans arrive in Chile to work, having as it does a relatively robust economy and I was now one of them. However if you have enough money it is not a problem. Fortunately for me the school was paying my visa. I remembered fillling in the landing card on the plane and telling them I was not there on holiday but to work. When I then joined a long que that was patrolled by burly, heavy security guards with alsations on leashes I thought I might be about to be out back on the next flight to Europe however I was waved through with no questions asked. It was only later watching a TV documentary at Jorge’s I realised the extent of the narcotics trade in South America and what the sniffer dogs and drug enforcement officers were up against. I needn’t have worried about my work visa however I also realised later that many enter the country that way and are caught out by one of the many army patrols when asked for their work visa and promptly fined a large amount for not having one!!

  Bernardita was the most senior female teacher at the school - a very jolly large spinster.She became like a mother figure to me and on telling her of my difficulty in sleeping last night with the noise and ants, compunded by waking with cramp she, alongwith Vivianna told me a cure they were convinced of : “Eat many bananas and mch fluids!”…

  I was having difficulty adjusting to the house where I’d been given a room. Yolanda was a teacher at the school but had separated from her husband (divorce was illegal in Chile, as in Ireland pre-1995). She lived with her boyfriend, Pedro, who seemed to think I was now his source of free at-home English lessons, not to mention translation of all his favourite pop songs; whatever happened to be playing on the radio on the way in to the school in the morning. Breakfast was a couple of pieces of unleavened bread, jam and tea.

At the school I had been shown the ropes by Jorge. He had a large office proudly displaying his many certificates of education, to masters level and beyond. The English Department turned out to be an all-female affair : the lovely (if inexperienced) Gloria, Head of Department and (5 years my junior). Hmmm. Then there was raven-haired Rebecca, with the steel-tipped high heels. Then there was Carolina, who spoke the best English, living as she had in the States for a long time, She was the best teacher I had ever seen of primary level children, playing songs to them and miming the actions as if her life depended on it. Brilliant! Next there was Miss Paola, who used to be a DJ. After a few days of being shown where things were, familiarising myself with the SSR and a  time spent together with the other teachers reading Scripture and praying for the new term, she was the one who “checked” my opening “speech” to the kids of primero media.

In my best Belfast brogue(s) I stepped forward on a sunny Chilean morning and began. “Tengo mucho alegria de ser invitado de ensenyar al tu escuela despues de trabajo con el Rector (I had written “tu jefe” - this was one of the few corrections she made when I showed her my speech in the staff room), en Inglaterra. Ya he visto algo de tu pais - no va me olvidar nunca, pienso, tu sopa marinera (corrected to “paella marina”) ! Voy ser encargado sala audiovisual, es decir “SSR” (Self-study room) y allí espero voy ensenyar Inglés. Pienso que vamos aprender mucho y si vaís trabajar duro - mejorar mucho vos Inglés y yo mi Espanyol!

Pienso que aqui vos me llame “Gringo”. Bueno, soy de Reino Unido - soy nativo “Inglés” pero tambien de Irlanda - país de muchas batallas, historias, peliculas, canciones y musica - por consiguente pedais aprender mucho de cultura de mi país, como yo apriendo de lo vos. Gracias.