tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82552689969968323872024-03-12T21:46:42.166-07:00Nightgown in GuatemalaWords found on this blog reflect my personal thoughts and experiences. They do not reflect the views of the Peace Corps or the United States government.amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.comBlogger137125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-40953670419652363032010-06-29T07:40:00.001-07:002010-06-29T07:45:28.081-07:00To One of My Students<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Querida Mosquetera,</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Deseo lo mejor para su vida, Usted ha sido una de las senoritas mas dulces, alegres, sinceras y llenas de vida que he conocido en mi tiempo aqui. Con el tiempo, nosotros los humanos vamos cambiando. Algunos nos ponemos amargados y pesimistas, mientras otros adquieren sabiduria y una vision para vivir sus vidas de la mejor manera posible. De una formo que no solo lo llevara a tener grandes exitos y felicidades, sino que va a querer lo mismo para las personas que comparten este mundo con uno. La quiero mucho y quiero saber que en un futuro no muy lejano esta impactando la vida de los demas. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Con carino,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Seno Anna </span></span></div></div>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-43509514982362527322010-05-09T16:29:00.000-07:002010-05-09T16:30:39.642-07:00i like this job except the part that says database<span style="font-size:78%;">The Harlem Peacemaker program is a youth development program, which focuses on training college aged individuals and providing opportunities for them to give back to their community. The program provides additional staff to schools and offers after school and summer programs to ensure that elementary students have a safe environment for learning, enrichment, and recreation. The program provides several services to children and families. We are currently seeking to hire two Site Supervisors to assist in managing the day to day programming. The Site Supervisor will act as a liaison between HCZ and the Department of Education and the Site Supervisors report directly to the Site Supervisor.<br /><br />Essential Duties and Responsibilities:<br />Manage day- to –day programming<br />Act as a liaison between HCZ and the Department of Education<br />Supervise and evaluate staff<br />Submit budgets for the program<br />Collaborate with volunteers and HCZ representatives from various sites<br />Manage AmeriCorps intern service and training hours<br />Submit weekly narratives and program reports to the Site Supervisor.<br />Facilitate, in coordination with Site Supervisor, staff trainings and meetings<br />Keep the Site Supervisor abreast of incidents and staff issues<br />Oversee the management of the SMART program information in the Social Solutions ETO software database for the assigned site<br />Compile and maintain information pertaining to the assigned site<br />Research and participate in trainings designed to enhance performance<br />Comply with various Harlem Children’s Zone and AmeriCorps initiatives<br />Must be able to work at least one Saturday per month and some late nights.<br />Additional responsibilities may include but are not limited to:<br />Maintenance of the Out Of School Time initiative and Database<br />Maintenance of The After- School Corporation contract and Database<br />Maintenances of the SDPP funded students and compiling relevant contractual information<br />Qualification, Skills and Knowledge Requirements:<br />Must possess a Bachelor’s degree<br />The ideal candidate should have a passion for the mission of the Harlem Children's Zone<br />A specific interest in higher education<br />Be creative and possess strong organizational and communication skills, verbal and written.</span>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-20113186282910204432010-05-09T16:06:00.000-07:002010-05-09T16:29:04.269-07:00una carta a mi misma<span style="font-size:78%;">I'm sitting here grading homework. Que raro! Not. Today is a chill Sunday afternoon. Profe is in the other room taking a nap. He's having troubles with his momma so he's hanging with me all day today. So this homework I'm grading. It's a letter to myself for the self-esteem unit. Some students completely understood the assignment while others started inviting themselves to go on some outing...Hmm. Some of these students are writing to themselves and saying how great they are, totally humble, the most beautiful human being, completely intelligent. I'm like, really? Either you do have some great autoestima or you are still very naive. So if I had to write a letter to myself, I'd prob say something like this. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Dear Anna,</span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">I smell trouble in the air. Or is that just the sweet, intense smell of change. Thinking about leaving has me feeling like at any moment, I could start crying. Like a few weeks ago when I was pissed at the director of my schools and had a small fight with Profe, and had to turn in a report, I start talking to the janitor and he says, we're really going to miss you. I'm not one to kiss ass but you have been an important person for us for the time that you have been here. The tears started to stream down my face. I had gone back and forth about extending for another year but decided that I couldn't decide with peace in my heart so maybe it wasn't meant to be. There are many factors. Ya tu sabes. But I can't really verbalize them very intellectually right now. Every since I got to Guatemala. I shake my fist at you, Guate, for fucking with my English but making me a much better person. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Love, </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">the coolest person you know</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">That's how my letter would write. It wouldn't make sense. I'd jump from one idea to the next without the greatest transition and then I'd be done. </span>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-90618253887044261442010-03-22T15:52:00.000-07:002010-03-22T16:13:18.030-07:00Grading Test<span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:78%;">Grading tests has really got to be one of the most time consuming activities that I've had to deal with in this country. 550 students. Tests that try to get the students to share opinions and think critically. While some give me these amazing answers, most of the others are somewhere on the moon. For the past few days, I've been grading papers. I hate the red pen. I hate the red Xs that I have to make when a student is wrong. And I'm too objective. "Well...I can see where he's coming from..." And I want to give the student the point just because his answer was interesting. Anything where they have to give their opinion, I generally give them all the points. Unless, it is blatantly obvious that they barely read the question and gave me a half-ass answer. The tests make me sad. I realize that most didn't study. Or they don't know how to, or simply didn't because they were doing other things. Some students work but most don't. I'm not sure what they spend their time doing. Maybe thinking about doing it, like I sometimes do. It's a sickness. But honestly, it makes me slightly depressed. I start to think about high school and the students that didn't try. Achievement is partially related to things you have no control over, but more than anything it's attitude. There are students here that have it all, in relation to others, not US standards, that perform so poorly, that just don't give a fuck. And then you have a students like Norman that have to come by bus an hour away, bring their notebooks to class smelling like firewood but they get it done. And they pay attention and they ask questions if they don't understand. I'm in love with my students. Some of them give me headaches and I think, what is going on in your head. But most of the time, I like observing them, listening to them, and talking to them. They crack me. On the tests, they make up answers. Hell, they make up words! Question: pais donde hubo conflictos etnicos entre los Hutus y Tutsis en 1994, causa de resentimiento de un grupo hacia el otro...answer: Musulmania...My dear student, as far as I know (and I studied International Relations), this country does not exist. Never had they heard about Rwanda. Never had they heard about the Holocaust until a month ago. But honestly, most of the topics that I teach them, they had never heard about.But they like them. And I find that the students miss our classes and ask me, "When are you going to come and teach us? It's just that your class is so nice." And its true. Those classes are my own special little time with them. Talking about real things affecting their lives. That's whats up. </span>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-428080560826649722010-02-20T05:13:00.000-08:002010-02-20T05:38:11.255-08:00Guatemalan Janice<span style="font-family: lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:78%;">The day before yesterday, my friend, the contadora, and I went to get manicures. Living the high life, I guess. The teachers at our school decided to do a Secret Santa but for Valentine's Day and I picked my friend's name out of a little plastic bag. I was happy too because what the hell do you get a Guatemalan man or woman. I am not a fan of cheap gifts. The set amount was $6 which is A LOT here but after going to at least 15 stores, I realized that it's really not that much because any gift worth giving was way more expensive. I wasn't about to give a stuffed teddy bear or a box of chocolates, nor did I want to give her something for the kitchen. She's not really a traditional Guatemalan woman anyway. She doesn't make tortillas everyday. She isn't in charge of the cleaning and her husband helps her take care of their 3 boys. Nonetheless, like most or all Guatemalan women, she is overworked. Who wouldn't want a manicure? I've never had one so I didn't know what it would be like but I assumed it had to be enjoyable. I was having doubts though because flashes of Paula Abdul were racing through my mind and how she tried to sue her beauty salon for, what?, making her nails fungus-y. Hahaha. Of all the things to go and start a revolution for...sterilizing beauty utensils. Whatever. It's important I guess. I got tired of going to so many stores so I made my friend a card and wrote, "Go to this place to get your V-Day gift." She was pretty damn surprised so that was good. I couldn't have lived with myself if I gave her a set of spatulas. A week later she convinces me to go with her. Just like teenage girls that can't do things alone for the first time. So I went but not before getting my caffeine fix at the Museo Cafe, a glorious establishment in the heart of Huehue. Mmmmm. We make our way to the Rotonda where Evolution Spa is located, which is apparently run by a lady that lived in Chicago for many years. I'll have to confirm because I've had people tell me that they have relatives in Chicago and it ends up being Iowa. Sorry folks, but it's definitely not the same. A slim beauty leads us upstairs and starts working her magic on my friend. This lady was so friendly but had a very bizarre personality. Her name was Veronica but she made us call her Vero. And she had a laugh that was out of this world. A la Janice from Friends. A Guatemalan Janice if you will. I can't recall everything she was saying but she was ripping on Mexicans' mustaches and for treating Guatemalans poorly. Then she started to say that she was going to file down my friend's nails until you could see the bone. All this was said in a very light-hearted way....but damn, how morbid. All in all, this lovely experience lasted 3 hours! It was fun. The time went by fast and I also got a manicure (my first time ever in all my 24.5 years of existence). Only problem was the girl who I got, sucked at painting nails (she was the sister of the owner). When I went home I took off the nailpolish and painted them clear. That's how I like them. Clean and simple. We almost missed the bus back home and my friend's husband threatened to lock her out of the house. False promises though.<br /><br /></span></span>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-33739705144561179132010-02-15T14:55:00.000-08:002010-02-15T15:39:38.434-08:00SPA in Chimu<span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:78%;">I have a student named Emelia that always lights up my days. This is the student I took to the Encuentro Juvenil. She's one of the top students in the school. She's a bit older than the other students. I'm not sure if she started school late or flunked at some point in primaria. Everytime I see her she gives me this huge hug or pokes my stomach and grabs my hand. Today she came up to me and we started talking about proyects for our school. This is another thing that sets her apart. Ever since we went to the Encuentro Juvenil, she has it transfixed that we have to do something about the garbage problem in Huehue. We've had to postpone any kind of activities because of the big problem with the mayor and the garbage. Oscar the Grouch, why did you have to screw everything up so badly? Lining our streets with trash. Baby diapers. Orange peels. Tamale leaves. We wanted to put up garbage cans in the community and signs with thought-provoking messages. But no one was picking up the garbage for months so it was useless to organize clean-up days, make garbage cans and paint signs if the garbage was just gonna overflow and pile up next to the garbage cans. Recently the EU with the help of some government agency put trash bins all over the casco urbano. A nice little duo of organic and inorganic. Unfortunately, I'm not sure if they were supposed to capacitar people in what the differences are. Because if you run into one of these in Huehue you'll see that people are using them but are putting the trash in whichever bin is closest. Today I went to lunch at my friend's house and her husband, our town's carpenter, started suggesting we do a project to clean up the community. There is a clear need for it. We are divided by the Interamerican Highway. People driving by fling out their garbage, making our town its new home. I've never been super proactive about the environment. I rather try to build a community center to bring this town together. Even though everyone in my town are the descendants of 3 main families, there's a lot of division. They need some conflict-res and team-building charlas. Too much division over creencias religiosas and infidelity. I fantasize about a small building with a computer room, a library and a salon. Tables for students to do their homework. To spend time together in a positive and safe setting. But there's no time. Unless...I extend. If we were to do this garbage project though, we'd need a SPA grant. There needs to be a community organization in charge of the project and the PCV is just there for apoyo. So I wouldn't be able to say...let's do this. But rather, I'd have to see what their needs are and what will actually benefit the community, principally the youth. And, will it work. In the words of Tim Gunn, "make it work." Gotta make it work. Gotta be sustainable. Or else, when its all over... nothing was done. </span>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-83428416229678292972010-01-08T18:16:00.000-08:002010-01-08T18:32:25.606-08:00<span style="font-size:78%;">I'm sitting here, drinking a little bit of what was left of a bottle of some cheap Chilean wine I bought at the Paiz. I'm feeling a lot but I'm kind of just numb. It's very probable that in 6 months I will no longer have the life I've grown accoustomed. I was talking to a friend and we started talking about me leaving. I started to explain that life would be completely different. He's a 21 year old kid. And he asks me the same questions over and over again. I swear he's asked me at least 4 times where I'm from in the states. But, yeah. I can't get a grasp on it. I've been surprisingly productive since the new year started. I've surprised myself. Maybe its cus I know I have to get all this sustainability shit down before I take off and leave my kiddies. God, I'm going to miss some people. I'm going to miss walking to the bus stop and riding on the bus. Seeing their little faces with the spiked up hair or the lips loaded with lipgloss. I'm going to miss going on walks with Amiga. Drives with Profe. Everything with Profe. I'm going to miss Cristian and I whistling to get each other's to come up or down the stairs. My Bebes...and crazy Capulina. Don Hugo's cool and amazing chill self. Doing stupid things with Jane. Going into Huehue to buy school supplies. Saying Buenos dias to everyone I see. Tamilitos. Chuchitos. Tears. PS, I'm not depressed. Just getting sad. </span>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-28090813537127619622010-01-03T07:05:00.001-08:002010-01-03T07:19:21.096-08:00To New Beginnings<span style="font-size:78%;">I'm not too sure that most Guatemalans make New Year's resolutions. Who came up with the idea anyway? Saber. The internet says it was the Babylonians. Parece que los Babylonians would make resolutions to get in with the gods. If a resolution was not cumplido, it was considered bad luck so one should be wise when choosing what exactly was gonna be different about this year. Someone mentioned that Guatemalans don't make resolutions because they are much more focused on survival than changing their behavior. But since I'm American, I do have some. I was talking to Profe last night and he said the whole generic New Year's bit, although I know he is very sincere. In everything he says. Que Dios le traiga muchas bendiciones a ud y su familia. I told him, well I know it will already be different. I will more than likely be home for half of this year and Phillip will no longer be at war or in the army. Just those two things will make life drastically different than 2009. Crazy to think that 10 years have passed. I was fourteen when this decade started. A little freshmen/sophomore in love with Dan Flores, long-haired pot head. I was super skinny, and getting those fabulous grades in school. Now, PC volunteer in another country far, far away from my family. By the end of this next decade, I will more than likely be an aunt of at least two little ones from Perla and Alberto, I may even be married and have my little ones. Scary. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's focus on 2010. Resolutions for this year are: </span><br /><ul><li><span style="font-size:78%;">Be healthy (typical)</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">Get a fabulous job that pays well</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">Have more fun</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">Love my family more, as well as my friends and students</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">Be more organized</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">Travel to Chile and Brazil (maybe Costa Rica)</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">Start drawing again </span></li></ul>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-10956115753774337312010-01-03T06:38:00.000-08:002010-01-03T07:03:20.533-08:00El Chacal<span style="font-size:78%;">El Chacal de las trompetas on Don Francisco's "Sabado Gigante" is this man (maybe woman) dressed in a black satin cloak,covering his entire body except for two holes around his eyes lined with gold. Sounding the trumpet on the singing contest when someone uber sucks at singing. Although if the person singing is a good-looking woman with tight-fitting clothes, she will probably pass on to the next round just to appease Don Francisco's machista ass. That man has always been gross. I like him cus he's Chilean but he's sleezy and he turned way too Mexican to try appeal to his audience. He even came out with a ranchero album. Seriously? Anywho...in Huehue, there is a man they call El Chacal. I know him as Jorge. That's the way he introduced himself to me. He sells newspapers. The first time I saw him was on the camioneta to my town. He gets on and starts his bit, "Les traigo Nuestro Diario..." then towards the end, he ends a joke with something like this, "el hombre que no trabajoa es porque tiene una mujer gorda que lo mantiene...pero no va a pensar mal, no gorda de peso si no de billete...gorda de billete." Then everyone giggles. Its the same joke every time. He always offers me the Prensa Libre which is the newspaper that actually has articles and not just pictures of homicides. He always says hi to me and we've talked many times when I'm waiting for the bus. He used to be an alcoholic and now attends AA meetings. Yesterday, coming home from La Reforma, San Marcos, I waited for my bus for about an hour. The buses were running sporatically. Then el Chacal walks up and sits next to me underneath the pasarela. I asked him how was New Year's Eve. He tells me, well, I was sober, so that was good. Continues telling me that this year life was kinda tough for his family but that is life. We started talking about the violence in Huehue (#1 department in the entire country for lynchings and burnings...we're #1, we're #1...). In one of the aldeas I work in, they found a dead man in his taxi. Sigh. I like talking to Jorge. He's nice. Some people have told me some bad things about him, but I think this man has just had a really hard life, partially because of the way he grew up and partially because of bad decisions. Oh, and people call him Chacal because he's really dark. </span>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-12907477987330893442009-12-20T07:27:00.000-08:002010-02-26T11:21:09.157-08:00That Ain't Right<span style="font-size:78%;">Last week, one of my dearest students missed camp for a day because her mom's cousin had passed away. Thirty-one year old man found dead on the side of the new road going through Piedras Negras at 3 in the morning. And absolutely no one new what happened. If you dig deeper, if you snitch more, you can always get to the bottom of things. It must be that suppresed desire to become a homicide detective coming out in me. Actually, it wasn't that hard to find out what happend, or what supposedly happened. Another student's dad is also related to the guy and says that he was driving his motorcyle at that time, and of course, we are in the hills so there's tons of fog at that time. Apparently there was a truck parked on the side of the road and he smacked straight into it. Sigh. He was supposed to be getting married in a few weeks. The mom of my student told me she saw her (fiance) on the bus the other day (her boyfriend used to pick her up from work everyday so now she was riding the bus) and she was crying and crying. Poor lady. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Yesterday, Profe tells me that his friend's sister "la iban a pedir," which is the formality of the boyfriend asking the parents' for the daughter's hand in marriage. The tradition was that the boyfriend and his family would go to the girlfriend's house with all kinds of food (tamales, bread, fruit, sometimes alcohol) as a gift to the family. Many ladino families don't follow that tradition anymore, but its more common for the indigenous. So this man was supposed to go propose yesterday. He gets into an accident on Thursday on his way out of Huehue to another city and dies. Days away. And, come to find out, the girlfriend is pregnant. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-68498966395227140532009-10-30T05:43:00.000-07:002009-10-30T05:58:14.306-07:00<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">Sitting here in my kitchen, listening to the CDs that Roy sent. I've been stuck on the Music Popular CD. I kinda like the Alicia Keys song. The Beyonce one is weird. Is she talking about a guy's penis? Seriously. The Black Eyed Peas one makes me smile and I really like the Shakira one because it makes me think of Halloween. I'm also trying to study for my panaderia test. I haven't had a test in yeeears. I'm pretty happy the class will end soon because having warm bread in your face leads to quick weight gain and I'm not down with that. Other news, tomorrow is Huehue's serenata. People go around cruising Huehue. There's music in the park and tons of vendors. Boyfriends and husbands go serenade their pareja. I'm supposed to get a serenata...I hope its something dreary and not lovey dovey. Blahh. I'm seriously not believing in love. We'll not true. I do. But not for myself. Not now. Too much to think about. To fix. To take care of. Like my new puppy, Jack Piano, that thought it was okay to poop on my metodo del collar handouts. Thanks a lot! So he is officially banned from coming inside the house. He needs to become a manly, Guatemalan dog. Or he won't make it. Those other chuchos will tear him apart.<br /></span></span>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-32263510965180841422009-10-14T07:48:00.000-07:002009-10-14T08:02:30.583-07:00<span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">The time is winding down. Its becoming so blatant now. School is ending for the year and that means I have a few months of vacation and summer activities and only about 7 months of school. Im counting down now, not up. I keep telling that to Profe (one of my best friends here). And he says, why do you have to say that? Cant you just enjoy the now. Yes, I can. But I cant deny reality either. Its coming. Itll be sad. It will come too soon. I hate when people use the word bittersweet but Im sure it will be something like that.<br /><br />But before I go and get emo on you, I want to share some of the things that Ive been enjoying in the now.<br /></span></span><ul><li><span style="font-size:78%;">One of my male students bravely decided to show the rest of the class that he understood a womans menstrual cycle, fertility, etc.<br /></span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">I am starting to announce my summer camps (American sports!, Art workshops, Girl Power/Leadership, Film Festival, Community Service).</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">The idea of mom and dad coming.</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">Lemon-flavored Emperador cookies</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">I bought a toaster oven and made bread and it tasted delicious.</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">Sweet text messages I get from my students.</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">Finding scholarships for my kids.</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">Falling asleep too early.<br /></span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">Internet at my house!</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">Talking to my students parents</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">Pollo Campero. I want a life-time supply. I dont care what the pretentious PCVs say.</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">Going for drives with Profe and listening to the White Stripes.<br /></span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">Scheming and planning mini-vacations in the country.</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">One of my students (who unfortunately is pregnant) whooped the boys butts in soccer yesterday. So fierce.</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;"> New coffee place in Huehue--called El Museo del Cafe (will be frequenting this fine establishment)</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">The bakery group that I am joining (Ill open up my own business when I get home. Watch out Mexican panaderias!)</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">The great clothes I bought at the PACA after going to about 10 and not finding shit.</span></li><li><span style="font-size:78%;">The idea of running to lose some pounds and instead making myself pasta or eggs with tortillas.<br /></span></li></ul>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-29049885602530503792009-10-05T19:33:00.000-07:002009-10-05T19:45:06.581-07:00La Comadre<span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family: lucida grande;">My host brother, aka La Comadre #1, is Cristian. He is 14 years old and you can find him in a lot of the pictures that I've posted in the past. Yes, we hang out a lot. He is probably my best friend here. Why? He shares food with me and I help him with his homework. We put our arms around each others' shoulders as we walk down the dirt path to school. He picks up his dogs and dances different Latin dances with them. He tells me all the good gossip. He is the first to know. People open up to him. Sometimes his mom will send him on some errand and he will take twice as long just because, along the way, he must have found someone to talk to. He's not your regular 14 year old boy, thinking about girls, videogames and soccer. He kinda sucks at soccer actually. He is my comadre. I am his. I am Comadre #2 and his mom is Comadre #3. Because we all snitch to each other, about countless things. Deaths of cows, husbands' cheating on wives, whose pregnant, who bought a new car. Yeah, you know, the really exciting things. TMZ worthy. Perez Hilton worthy.<br /><br />In true fashion, today Comadre #1 comes down the stairs and knocks on my door to lay down some of his finest material. The neighbor's daughter had been held hostage with two other men, two houses down. Wtf...It's actually not a house, but a bodega where they store all kinds of mercaderia (food stuffs, I'm assuming) and some men came in and tied them up and put guns to their heads until they got all the money they wanted out of them. For 3 hours.<br /><br />My comadre has always been scared of the dark. We bond over that but since I'm the adult, I try to calm him down. I tell him to repeat "todo lo puedo en Cristo, que el me fortalece." Sound familiar? And he does. And it makes me feel better. But seriously, we have more to be afraid of now. It keeps getting closer and closer to home. Todo lo puedo en Cristo que El me fortalace.<br /></span></span>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-48734577273158050892009-10-01T17:31:00.000-07:002009-10-01T18:31:55.777-07:00Independece Day<span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Pues si, tu. About 3 weeks ago I was invited to go traer la antorcha to Barrillas, a city that is 7 hours away in bus. It used to be 12 or 13 hours but now that the roads are better, travel time has decreased, but 7 hours, people! That's a long bus ride with 40 rowdy teens. So off we went at 8 in the morning on a Sunday, passed through all the Cuchumatanes pueblos and eventually arrived in Barrillas, which was surprisingly warm. We get there, choose our spot to sleep on a concrete floor and then go out to discoverer the town. The next morning we are up at 3am to start running. Now, please dont think that we ran 12+ hours. We ran some, walked some, drove some. But it was pretty damn cool and I ran way more than I thought I could. It must have been those whole 4 days that I ran to prepare. Riiiiight. We would take turns in groups of 4. For example, I would run with 3 of my students carrying the flag and two torches and when we'd run a certain distance, 4 other people would get off the bus and run. With stops for eating and peeing, we got back to the Instituto where the school was waiting for us, with delicious bread and coffee. Oh yea, and lots of cheering. :) Here are the pics to prove I ran although you never actually see me running in any of the pics.<br /><br />Nevermind, no pics. Blogspot is being lame and wont let me upload. Until next time, I suppose.<br /><br /><br /></span></span>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-11473764498703348002009-07-10T14:39:00.000-07:002009-07-10T14:59:07.270-07:00Two weeks of Work and Play<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-zZKJHLlz_DzzTFIa-AfOYF49f2HxHmA00qP5Fyxj6AXd3m-F1msAL_cFYakFL5SoRdUkKHyPfEx8qsK51hKu2AK2Xp0onS4976t0BEeG3sd67trpACDsRKv7tRcFQepUjj2ARX2c83Cy/s1600-h/midyear+vacation+212.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356953492381114706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-zZKJHLlz_DzzTFIa-AfOYF49f2HxHmA00qP5Fyxj6AXd3m-F1msAL_cFYakFL5SoRdUkKHyPfEx8qsK51hKu2AK2Xp0onS4976t0BEeG3sd67trpACDsRKv7tRcFQepUjj2ARX2c83Cy/s320/midyear+vacation+212.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNbJltreK0_leZE1qKqjEs2XTxDLt_1DLVLKm9WGtt4Gh2NSEpkhTl8aCPoN4XYGNKt9bKmHALDYQ0be5Z9D8vIK8SgVdfru5Uz8TN2TL5r83ju8vN20_dOIrwowiv-R6hnqoUtRLRiSut/s1600-h/midyear+vacation+218.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356952920954887026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNbJltreK0_leZE1qKqjEs2XTxDLt_1DLVLKm9WGtt4Gh2NSEpkhTl8aCPoN4XYGNKt9bKmHALDYQ0be5Z9D8vIK8SgVdfru5Uz8TN2TL5r83ju8vN20_dOIrwowiv-R6hnqoUtRLRiSut/s320/midyear+vacation+218.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDYMURg1LdXVL0I1lE01j5CqF2XdBOQ1rLYSaqowGbVCCyWfZXBGlp8dbhxCnJTZjJrgwrMWzydxLv1MK8yYPKr7T7zb332h4J-hEqa6SfOLb_5u-cM3FDRfaA-jo9XS_gcFG0SZcgnET/s1600-h/midyear+vacation+101.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356952160393296370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDYMURg1LdXVL0I1lE01j5CqF2XdBOQ1rLYSaqowGbVCCyWfZXBGlp8dbhxCnJTZjJrgwrMWzydxLv1MK8yYPKr7T7zb332h4J-hEqa6SfOLb_5u-cM3FDRfaA-jo9XS_gcFG0SZcgnET/s320/midyear+vacation+101.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirY7qXR4YMWMJoAPdZJxsS1Zi72apvpse_Xrxrj8aYrk7LWvkx3oV-GL0KCJUB3t9DfUnIbLe3swRLux2K-eKEgWda3DMD_rWOdljbGy7ftHaeMn8xNZgbY-b5vnQH8usdNui4vtkYUfOz/s1600-h/midyear+vacation+088.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356951337749328418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirY7qXR4YMWMJoAPdZJxsS1Zi72apvpse_Xrxrj8aYrk7LWvkx3oV-GL0KCJUB3t9DfUnIbLe3swRLux2K-eKEgWda3DMD_rWOdljbGy7ftHaeMn8xNZgbY-b5vnQH8usdNui4vtkYUfOz/s320/midyear+vacation+088.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi93HxPX_7NNEoe2dWJ3nOc_vJ3JNCCiogLSsbNRpX7-vXfTNbdaWZ0dZF95-mpknUTILOWfjXlE4wfxZfrBdFub8DAoJ8x2Lc76BHu1TGXL246XAJ4af1FXgtxhzwRXnM5ZURRlKD5oL9B/s1600-h/midyear+vacation+076.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356950418749116770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi93HxPX_7NNEoe2dWJ3nOc_vJ3JNCCiogLSsbNRpX7-vXfTNbdaWZ0dZF95-mpknUTILOWfjXlE4wfxZfrBdFub8DAoJ8x2Lc76BHu1TGXL246XAJ4af1FXgtxhzwRXnM5ZURRlKD5oL9B/s320/midyear+vacation+076.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjduGjR_wRmhNif95c2UBtsiVVimAG3dYILT8GepYK3ov11A73PAxiEC4drl4zkWvblnxMDeq5J_dh8xntm7nju-tQCpf2k8dQ8Ru-Ca6BfbeFdOMfDKwgaa2L5Gj7BnYz9ZsipBxpwKwxy/s1600-h/midyear+vacation+005.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356949737724373058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjduGjR_wRmhNif95c2UBtsiVVimAG3dYILT8GepYK3ov11A73PAxiEC4drl4zkWvblnxMDeq5J_dh8xntm7nju-tQCpf2k8dQ8Ru-Ca6BfbeFdOMfDKwgaa2L5Gj7BnYz9ZsipBxpwKwxy/s320/midyear+vacation+005.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">First picture is Cristian with cake on his nose. It was his birthday and his mom pwnt him.</span></div><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:78%;">Next picture is the bomb-ass present that Profe Juan got for Cristian. I wish I would have gotten such a cool present for my birthday.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:78%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-size:78%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-size:78%;">Then we have Carmen using one of my sheets as a towel because I had no clean towels because it had been raining for a couple of days, hence, no clean and dry towels. </span></div><div><span style="font-size:78%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-size:78%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-size:78%;">Doña Raquel showing off all the tortillas we made that morning. Somewhere around 150. Whose ready for homemade tortillas? Or perhaps tamalitos de frijol? Or pupusas? I got that stuff down. </span></div><div><span style="font-size:78%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-size:78%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-size:78%;">Rambo thinks hes Bebes. Hes a poser basically. Bebes has always, since birth, been a jumpy dog. Kinda like a dolphin...a GarDolphin? So Rambo thinks he can do the same and be cute. Doesnt work, Rambo. Stop trying to be like Bebes. </span></div><div><span style="font-size:78%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-size:78%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-size:78%;">Me and my Gallo shirt. I had to sell my soul to the Gallo hoes for this shirt and I can´t even wear it around my town because Ill be criticized for my beer paraphanelia. </span></div></div></div></div>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-22095670660278455452009-06-14T10:04:00.000-07:002009-06-14T10:22:56.825-07:00Classes Cancelled<span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">I think I was the first snitch in Guatemala to find out that they were going to cancel classes. I felt it coming over a month ago. The rumors, indirect and general comments from directors, teachers and the radio. Because it wasn't enough to have at least one day off each week for protests, emergency meetings, workshops and influenza scare. May was good, despite all those cancellations. Students were behaving well. Activities were realizadas. I was able to get some things done despite my directors. When talking to Maggie, another Youth Development volunteer and my licuado drinking partner, and I'm complaining about one of my directors she'll say, "The lazy? Or the crazy?" Generally, I'm complaining about the Crazy. But I don't want to pass on the grief that the man gives me every time I see him. Every so often he mentions that during the 90s he worked for the Naciones Unidas in the Cuchumatanes. Is that supposed to impress me? Well actually, in general, it does impress me if I didn't know how he is. I find it very hard to believe that he contributed to anything productive in any of the projects they did. Ok, enough shit talking. May, thank you for bringing me up.<br /><br />June, bring peace to this heart and creativity and stability to this brain of mine. I have two weeks to put them both to work so that July will be even better than May. Almost every day during the rest of June, my friend, Edna, and I are going to go walking at six in the morning, because we are cool like that. Edna is cool. Her name makes me think of an old lady but she's only 26. She's married with three small children. She's a good mom. She's got good ideas and gives me good advice. She's very sensitive just like Rab so she kind of reminds me of you. Same age too. Her birthday is in July.<br /><br />So that is June. Our feria is cancelled for July. Sad. It actually wouldn't have mattered much as I was going to be home during that time anyway but now, seems like I am going home in August. I'm thinking, should I just wait and go home for Christmas. What do you guys say?<br /><br />I love you guys.<br /></span></span>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-58992470708594209132009-06-07T14:47:00.000-07:002009-06-07T15:21:15.261-07:00Poastie Toastie<span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:78%;">For Potato. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">´</span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Whats all going on? </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">I shouldn´t but I am counting down the days until I come home. I was talking to my friend about the strange, strange feeling of getting on a plane in one place and entering into something entirely new. Im looking forward to that weirdness. I will probably only go home for two weeks. I do not have sufficient days to be galavanting in los estados divididos. As much as Id like to stay for a month or more. Impossible. The midyear vacation for the public schools is supposed to be the week after my birthday, which also coincides with the Dia del Maestro; however, they haven´t announced anything. Everything is rumos here. Rumors floating through the air, circiling into peoples´ ears and out of peoples´mouths. This same friend and I went walking yesterday in the morning. She´s been living in our little town for at least 6 years but she still hasn´t been through all the paths that have been dug from the edge of the highway. This makes me feel better. I´ve explored more than her. But she has three kids so maybe I shouldn´t feel so great. Don´t listen to what anyone has to say here, about other people anyway. She told me that some guy had her that I was dating the director of one of my schools. I couldn´t stop laughing. I must have looked foolish walking down the highway saying, ¨En serio?¨while laughing and slapping my knee. Precisely she said. You can´t believe these people she said. Oh, and the 40 year old man that kept harrasing me so that he could let me borrow a book on the ladino slave or some shit like that, apparently broke his father´s feet so that he would stop drinking because he was an alcoholic. Way to support. Shudder. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Another good anecdote for you. There is a chofer in my town who all the girls have a crush on. I admit, me too. Or I had at least. A few weeks back he fled to Guate because someone got on his bus and told him that if he drove to the next stop that he wouldn´t live. Dramatic huh? He comes back a week or two later. What happen, baby? I thought you got a death threat. So this is what went down. Prepare to be amazed by the creativity of those who surround me. So one day the chofer decides hes going to use the bathroom while on his shift. By the last parada there is a parqueo where people sell, chips, arracheras, en fin, bastantes cosas. He goes to use the bathroom in the parqueo but the bathroom didnt flush so he went to ask the girl (teenager or maybe around my age) if she could get him a bucket or bowl to throw water to make it all go away. She says sure just wait right here. She takes a long time, in the time he waits, the owner of the parqueo, father of the girl comes up. He says I need a palangana to flush the toilet. Man´s like, sure, they go towards the bathroom but the door on the bathroom is somehow locked. They open the door and his daughter is in there, naked. Man starts yelling at the chofer saying that he was going to take advantage of her and blah blah blah and if he didnt give him 10,000 Q he was going to kill him. He freaks out and goes to Guate only to soon find out that this owner of the parqueo has done the exact same thing with at least one other chofer. How the hell did he devise something so freaking weird and distasteful to ¨earn¨money? </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">That is all.</span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">I love you guys. I am making a list of all the stuff I want to eat when I get home. Be prepared. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-63164026413928829902009-05-27T17:03:00.001-07:002009-05-27T17:03:44.032-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdowRbobf57Z00BDZ5PCSo22Y1TSsmY6-NWHUr7RfhP-dNjjBFjoCsQxKyt7ERUVNC5ZiB84gOb6qaNAMMB4R0YAGgbSNK4o7Q3B-TGA7B5e4nmoVUE0JjU6eGIMgfWLZpMRXtKup5EPlL/s1600-h/p1226.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340658736014618482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 236px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdowRbobf57Z00BDZ5PCSo22Y1TSsmY6-NWHUr7RfhP-dNjjBFjoCsQxKyt7ERUVNC5ZiB84gOb6qaNAMMB4R0YAGgbSNK4o7Q3B-TGA7B5e4nmoVUE0JjU6eGIMgfWLZpMRXtKup5EPlL/s320/p1226.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-88602883224676529992009-05-27T16:49:00.000-07:002009-05-27T16:58:12.270-07:00Mwere<span style="font-size:78%;">Random smallness going through my mind. Zipping in and out. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Mwere. Me voy a ir. Said really fast by my primero students. They think its hilarious that me voy a ir sounds like were. So when they see me they either shout mwere or good morning. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">My brain is bouncing up and down fro m that ride up and down that hill. Mountain, really. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">I´m still thinking about that tiger riding that horse. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Bebes is so cute. I cut his hair so hes got all these bald spots by his belly because I suck. He looks like a little lamb. A little black sheep. Speaking of, there were so many lambs on that mountain today, all I could think about is that Mediterranean place that Chris and I would go to in Chicago. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Pollo Campero has good coffee.</span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">May was or has been a freakeashly good month. June, dont fail me. You gotta be even better than May. Still...F U February for sucking so much. How could you when two great people were born that month? Phil and Michael Jordan. Ok, so Jordan is a douche cus he cheated on his wife. One amazing person was born this month. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">I got new books to read. Thanks, Maggie.</span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Send me books, people. I need books.</span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Send me face paint. And board games. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">I was missing good food so badly yesterday. Profe Juan and I were talking about what we´d have as our last meal. I listed cheese empanadas, sushi, 31st and canal burgers and a thai iced tea. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">I went up to El Mirador for the one billionth time. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">I missed my students today. Why do I love the instituto that is way more messed up. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">I need to wash my dishes and clean my house. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">The neighbor that died in the states was finally brought back after over three weeks for his burial. My goodness. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">No protests YET this week. Hoooray. All quiet on the western front! </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Art Club starts tomorrow????</span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">I love you guys.</span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">My birthday is coming up!!!</span>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-42056542878155920512009-05-10T14:57:00.000-07:002009-05-10T15:16:15.942-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieXlIArVcvs7A3vFhEzLzt9G79FvFhTl0xRkcbyAIXd1MzKkRY8tf8FAJ7AsBrFEraUgPpG4GZXMf8Mb4j1JZ_FtLBwr_qqjqXJ7cSs9n7aQ6c48BJnmt4_4BOL9KicZzk1wUortThHvC7/s1600-h/going+away+032.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334319979773694706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieXlIArVcvs7A3vFhEzLzt9G79FvFhTl0xRkcbyAIXd1MzKkRY8tf8FAJ7AsBrFEraUgPpG4GZXMf8Mb4j1JZ_FtLBwr_qqjqXJ7cSs9n7aQ6c48BJnmt4_4BOL9KicZzk1wUortThHvC7/s320/going+away+032.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Y9SPudLeM7NMj6NC3xKRzwDjf8NLjdyUyYmb8txPHO1A1TJbKnjf5t02O2bzAorLU8o8emYGTaPKwoTGvT1FSr8g_Xnymj67vAHChVQ0Q-AbR_CNFIFWZbMu9bA-WW0LIlKsdutLl1Tk/s1600-h/mom+dad+and+shoes+067.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334319102696652706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Y9SPudLeM7NMj6NC3xKRzwDjf8NLjdyUyYmb8txPHO1A1TJbKnjf5t02O2bzAorLU8o8emYGTaPKwoTGvT1FSr8g_Xnymj67vAHChVQ0Q-AbR_CNFIFWZbMu9bA-WW0LIlKsdutLl1Tk/s320/mom+dad+and+shoes+067.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Querida mami, lejos de usted, le deseo los mejores de los dias, aunque ya esta por terminar. Usted sabe que no necesita un dia en especial para que le digamos que la amamos. Espero que sepa que todo los dias del año usted es alguien sumamente importante para nosotros. Estando aqui, siempre me vienen visiones de cosas, lugares o experiencias que tuve alla con ustedes. Puede ser en los mas extraños de momentos, pero usted siempre viene a mi mente. Cosas como cuando usted y yo nos sentabamos a comer quesadillas y tomar cafe y usted siempre me decia que como le podia poner tanto cafe. Que me iba a adictar. O, cuando ibamos de compras juntas. O cuando ibamos a caminar al rio. Extraño todo esto pero este segura que cuando regrese estos momentos continuaran y crearemos muchos mas. </span></div><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">La quiero mucho mami, por ser fuerte, por ser chistoza, por bailar conmigo, por no juzgarme tanto, por amar a papi y a mis hermanos, por ser una mujer de Dios, por enseñarme que la educacion es importante, por ser sensible y por ser mi mamita. </span><div><br /></div><div></div>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-26833004411872572092009-05-04T12:44:00.001-07:002009-05-04T13:00:17.963-07:00early may<span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:78%;">I´m tired. I gave a surprise quiz to my 2o English class. As soon as I said, take out a blank sheet of paper, they were freaking out. It wasn´t hard but their spelling is horrible in English (Spanish too). I think the other 2o which Im not teaching is way ahead of us. But I really want my students to at least get the basics really well. I know they learned numbers and days of the week last year but they couldnt say them this year. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">In other school news, I´m still giving the communication charlas. They are going really well. A little too good? Today in class we were talking about assertive communication and then I started talking about the Golden Rule (la regla dorada as I called it..lol) and then about karma. I was thinking about Alicia Keys the whole time and her getting down in the subway station with the drums. Hahaha. But whatever, it went well. My 3o students...different story. I wanted to send them to the principal´s office so badly last week. There is this lack of confianza in me on the girl´s behalf and then the boys just want to be funny. We were talking about their goals, triumphs, low points and now are talking about life as a journey. And you can´t go on a long important journey without proper ID. So we are going to start talking about identity and self'esteem then go into decision making then all the good stuff like drugs, sex, violence, etc. I think I am going to read The Alchemist with them but I have to do it so as not to take too much time from the regular charlas. We´ll see. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Non-school happenings. My friend, Jane, came out to Huehue and we went dancing with my friend, Profe, and a bunch of his cousins. It was really fun. Surprisingly fun. I was getting down. Nothing unusual. Ooooh, I also went to a baby shower in my community. First one I´ve been to. I picked up a few game ideas for when I have to plan Rabs. You guys have to hold off a little longer to start having bebes. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">That´s all for now. I´m tired. Need to take a nap and then continue working. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Love you all. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">PS, someone´s bday is coming up. </span>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-27033699214056834222009-04-21T14:56:00.000-07:002009-04-21T15:03:15.916-07:00HIV taller<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcZ4614NX479XnHj7Y2CxXePouSrUDikDGwbCgg4NXIQ9BYC7qRYoZRH-iJu9rLI37V45vR0ugA6bthUt6wH65TUqwgGbGyRs1JJyGCKgTlSHl6WK9yjdMftTI5cWzUFjQf3kvyblQF5O8/s1600-h/Semana+Santa+182.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327268574216437618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcZ4614NX479XnHj7Y2CxXePouSrUDikDGwbCgg4NXIQ9BYC7qRYoZRH-iJu9rLI37V45vR0ugA6bthUt6wH65TUqwgGbGyRs1JJyGCKgTlSHl6WK9yjdMftTI5cWzUFjQf3kvyblQF5O8/s320/Semana+Santa+182.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-fA3Atg-s0GFNnkp_W264tq8ISo-Z9VZy8eEpvYDVqoGwdXRtufZZdzdREFkvNeY1bpc_PkoS1EFPRZIxVkB39wCF3GZ26ARfFk-5-2wYgWCzjEN30-WCKW8PeLvShcAI6kNa5iisUv2/s1600-h/Semana+Santa+177.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327268040243801698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-fA3Atg-s0GFNnkp_W264tq8ISo-Z9VZy8eEpvYDVqoGwdXRtufZZdzdREFkvNeY1bpc_PkoS1EFPRZIxVkB39wCF3GZ26ARfFk-5-2wYgWCzjEN30-WCKW8PeLvShcAI6kNa5iisUv2/s320/Semana+Santa+177.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><u><span style="color:#0000ff;"></span></u><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCB-37qJfq1hJk0pgE3S_LTjYgAuMlOEsAfM5F2aNesZd4fnTo_nhFofk3RdgQ9Rf7JrqKZBqNJfbgnv9VOd8ciNL3zMqFPAThN2ULLe-nByxf03nzHr7xpimdlbWNHCLsdhlMzuqBCskx/s1600-h/Semana+Santa+169.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327267679384292450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCB-37qJfq1hJk0pgE3S_LTjYgAuMlOEsAfM5F2aNesZd4fnTo_nhFofk3RdgQ9Rf7JrqKZBqNJfbgnv9VOd8ciNL3zMqFPAThN2ULLe-nByxf03nzHr7xpimdlbWNHCLsdhlMzuqBCskx/s320/Semana+Santa+169.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyDqkvaMGsM4-vToQ8CNZj_h3fjqsGQBkEsHGbcXXVSbANGbmn_4RuwOTz2el9oT7EOyvRjYQ0UbROT5lMu-jic7I8rkvnqg7_diC5PsZU_k09AbyJkeczONs6iF2uSooGpFgGCGA_4b0w/s1600-h/Semana+Santa+166.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327267308785712386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyDqkvaMGsM4-vToQ8CNZj_h3fjqsGQBkEsHGbcXXVSbANGbmn_4RuwOTz2el9oT7EOyvRjYQ0UbROT5lMu-jic7I8rkvnqg7_diC5PsZU_k09AbyJkeczONs6iF2uSooGpFgGCGA_4b0w/s320/Semana+Santa+166.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div></div></div></div>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-250208323284720412009-04-21T14:44:00.000-07:002009-04-21T14:55:23.940-07:00Ruins<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBVCFoU3vnqri0i2amMpeMMxL_M0kERUIiTmSy4Ie2Pf5SgPsf2MoxQNRqk8PZxEoZq-sb8CBMH34IitrwJ8lzVsm8poEq4yC19aJix825habg8a969f9iG5R0gIaXRddmaOvSihi2xwJb/s1600-h/Semana+Santa+186.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327266212140692658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBVCFoU3vnqri0i2amMpeMMxL_M0kERUIiTmSy4Ie2Pf5SgPsf2MoxQNRqk8PZxEoZq-sb8CBMH34IitrwJ8lzVsm8poEq4yC19aJix825habg8a969f9iG5R0gIaXRddmaOvSihi2xwJb/s320/Semana+Santa+186.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhibN8M2fl-dS5Jvu3G2fpCmu0xmgge8nd6UawD5fvvm4jSKn96CnpEnKrtYCSwR575aARW3vBL4U9UBVAIVSyouQ7AAoMCvRM7rohS_C353l65rGvmJi3pp0iPTWpiTa4kGnvuj9gLHwad/s1600-h/Semana+Santa+143.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327265846192188002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhibN8M2fl-dS5Jvu3G2fpCmu0xmgge8nd6UawD5fvvm4jSKn96CnpEnKrtYCSwR575aARW3vBL4U9UBVAIVSyouQ7AAoMCvRM7rohS_C353l65rGvmJi3pp0iPTWpiTa4kGnvuj9gLHwad/s320/Semana+Santa+143.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327265056092433298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSV9LMu8tTQHbe_OluVb6K_ii5rGyuX0D_BpFRTAD088u5ao-uIYvGYihqahTk0jqrf1i0Ut2UswnwioGTUdy4MXyW7vIHoSKGmg3x9cIVfIAGrX4im-WlmxbXkA0djGseYwsp4laBleqC/s320/Semana+Santa+116.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRF8n_PHkt-27XsxmxjMyqx_X9YShIat7iNnvggwTwCLE4iCw1wh-48ik1VE_wvihXBvrzAFTJ9cF07dFIdWh67fhNHzqb59StBfZ3UqY86oL3GRPgMEGLcRsAeTPoRiT-XISdRxKjQqYj/s1600-h/Semana+Santa+119.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327264618669398146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRF8n_PHkt-27XsxmxjMyqx_X9YShIat7iNnvggwTwCLE4iCw1wh-48ik1VE_wvihXBvrzAFTJ9cF07dFIdWh67fhNHzqb59StBfZ3UqY86oL3GRPgMEGLcRsAeTPoRiT-XISdRxKjQqYj/s320/Semana+Santa+119.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipocTSeTpb7M8K2Y5wW-di-miqyhtUL45U88v8LEhs11zKk6fzimeOk3INRfpieIGXp94yKrL32QeWTVbuxn-GTM9Rh3q8aTP3T8Qa1JHEAFN9nh9GdyXVoog9Vt_Ys3WMIk3YjOMx7Tv4/s1600-h/Semana+Santa+115.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327264203405807394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipocTSeTpb7M8K2Y5wW-di-miqyhtUL45U88v8LEhs11zKk6fzimeOk3INRfpieIGXp94yKrL32QeWTVbuxn-GTM9Rh3q8aTP3T8Qa1JHEAFN9nh9GdyXVoog9Vt_Ys3WMIk3YjOMx7Tv4/s320/Semana+Santa+115.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div> </div></div></div></div></div>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-26713137887769258412009-04-21T14:23:00.000-07:002009-04-21T14:42:42.347-07:00Camora<span style="font-size:78%;">God is good...all the time. All the time...God is good. Today was good. It started off with me going to one of my schools to pìck up the stories that the primero students had created. I´ve just skimmed over the stories but they already look very promising. A couple of my students came up to me asking me for their agendas (planners) because, as the y told me, they needed to put down their homework and know what classes they had the next day. Say what? They are actually using the planners I made them make. I told Profe Juan that if all I take away from my two years here is that students become more organized, that would be enough. I´m only partially serious in saying that but I am so happy that they are actually using them. We have gone from maybe a tenth of the students in each class using planners to more than half using them. Another student named Cristian always asks how I´m doing and for me to be careful. This boy has an extremely special place in my heart. His mom abandoned him and his sisters when they were small and he was in a gang for a little bit of time. He is extremely hyper but a good kid. He is going to help me with some projects at that school. Ok...going back to my day, I hop on a bus to go to my other school, I get off and I wait for the other bus, and I wait and wait some more. Get to my Instituto and work with my 2B students. Communication taller went so well. It was great. Then I moved on to Tercero. Now the reference to the title...camora. Camora is like a nuggie or when kids beat you up for your birthday. Someone shouts camora to Jose. And everyone goes and hits or smacks Jose on the head. It can be somewhat playful and innocent, depending on whose doing it or it can be violent. Today some of my tercero boys did camora to one of their compañeros. This boy was crying so hard he could hardly talk. I was livid (to use Perla´s words). The principal came in and threaten them and what not (hes really not fit to be a leader of a school) and then I spoke to them. I basically told the whole class that I didn´t know what had happened but school was a place where people came to better themselves and a place that they could feel safe. They shouldnt feel threatened. I told them they needed to support each other. Everybody has other stuff going on outside of school but that school should be a haven. I don´t know if they took it to heart. I then went on to play a Juanes song called La Vida es Un Ratico and we talked about Juanes and what he was trying to convey to his audience through his lyrics. It went well and we´l l continue next week with another Juanes song that talks about not giving up, and persuing your dreams. Then we will go into decision mkaing. God knows some of them need it. Or all rather. The school day ended well with my Primero babies as I did a little communication skit where I brush the teeth of an alligator. It takes awhile to explain it so I wont but the students really enjoyed it and were extremely attent. Lastly, I went to one of my teachers house to help her with her English. She made me delicious homemade pizza. It was leet. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">I just bought some jobos. Its a little red and yellow fruit. Its good but I think the ones I bought might be bad. Of course. </span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Besitos a todos!</span>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255268996996832387.post-78295218508071615502009-04-18T16:02:00.001-07:002009-04-18T16:29:42.989-07:00Semana Santa, Huehuetenango<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBhWtbAg6_hxOiepYNumAj8MW-IkHseKW1IlWZ7J8jPPDR6_V5BAGMNV2DVUSpdnNcG1Ac9G2H4DSCU5o_daxzCWlBWqBTGfNlNpV2kO2KzOWzYGrH7Y5Lb4el7JUtmi8bHNdQ_XoagFvz/s1600-h/Semana+Santa+066.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326177630712826642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBhWtbAg6_hxOiepYNumAj8MW-IkHseKW1IlWZ7J8jPPDR6_V5BAGMNV2DVUSpdnNcG1Ac9G2H4DSCU5o_daxzCWlBWqBTGfNlNpV2kO2KzOWzYGrH7Y5Lb4el7JUtmi8bHNdQ_XoagFvz/s320/Semana+Santa+066.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvtBDJsBAoozgIy9wlRIBdeqCXLUF-pM2WRK-zz7X_IDsjy3pM17bvizN8XV0f1w60aJ_d7jYIpfbnDrSMpCVBZ7tCN2sG1aw3MmsaepBGy1R5A2G7Apj-km0GNPU9QtqyBYkNlem2VQdq/s1600-h/Semana+Santa+061.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326176879207928722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvtBDJsBAoozgIy9wlRIBdeqCXLUF-pM2WRK-zz7X_IDsjy3pM17bvizN8XV0f1w60aJ_d7jYIpfbnDrSMpCVBZ7tCN2sG1aw3MmsaepBGy1R5A2G7Apj-km0GNPU9QtqyBYkNlem2VQdq/s320/Semana+Santa+061.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjjB9KlGcJItflk6E-LYI7XEI_4r1UK2NVF3uk7sDzl_e4Gl4DJDFFTGuT-K7pmN3HyXVXoHAgV5KaRPWAbl_L097x_0LLC-RWaY7iox5YBIPYKThQ3Fl7LCTZrh_wioiisFu7gIAHxe1/s1600-h/Semana+Santa+058.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326176184885300018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjjB9KlGcJItflk6E-LYI7XEI_4r1UK2NVF3uk7sDzl_e4Gl4DJDFFTGuT-K7pmN3HyXVXoHAgV5KaRPWAbl_L097x_0LLC-RWaY7iox5YBIPYKThQ3Fl7LCTZrh_wioiisFu7gIAHxe1/s320/Semana+Santa+058.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjALKy6LM-WN0K6St0L4xsD7ypSND5lu_Rn2qC1F3kSk3vA9NWVBPpKyFRjGGkpNUauqoV_Yy40tikeXlrUK6rkbMb-jhnvYzkj538ZnOhlsS-uflIngvnM5emhNypZy2f0Po7P5TpOXqSD/s1600-h/Semana+Santa+048.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326175352346170354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjALKy6LM-WN0K6St0L4xsD7ypSND5lu_Rn2qC1F3kSk3vA9NWVBPpKyFRjGGkpNUauqoV_Yy40tikeXlrUK6rkbMb-jhnvYzkj538ZnOhlsS-uflIngvnM5emhNypZy2f0Po7P5TpOXqSD/s320/Semana+Santa+048.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnR4TGo0g4_hdUNr8lpKTu8Wha2ho9RF2gxEAeWbaWTbpVEOeKxgEoDHx3TZMN1VKGp8Ygre0DdugGPGBvaS0h6O2zCVxsDA33dWolrZKHRxfL33edZnj7BeCr7IKk5gvQyC_tEwWocH-7/s1600-h/Semana+Santa+045.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326173989903693634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnR4TGo0g4_hdUNr8lpKTu8Wha2ho9RF2gxEAeWbaWTbpVEOeKxgEoDHx3TZMN1VKGp8Ygre0DdugGPGBvaS0h6O2zCVxsDA33dWolrZKHRxfL33edZnj7BeCr7IKk5gvQyC_tEwWocH-7/s320/Semana+Santa+045.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div></div></div></div>amnightingalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08719039562114984224noreply@blogger.com0