I have always known that Honduras is Spanish for depths, however I learned an amusing thing this week. The term ‘en Honduras’ means, quite literally to be out of ones depth. Unwittingly I appear to have found a phrase that works on just about every conceivable level for me right now. It’s not so strange that I should learn this phrase the week that I start teaching. My experience thus far has proved that most vocabulary seems to find you precisely at the time you have the experience to understand it.
So anyway, teaching. I emerged from the weekend covered in paint and I have to confess that I remain this way until now. Cold showers are not the best for removing paint from your skin, and after copious amounts of scrubbing I am not convinced I am yet completely clean. I was pretty pleased with the aula (classroom) and somehow, between painting and generally busying myself with readying the aula I had managed to get the first week’s class plans almost ready. I confess I had an easy start. The Zompopos, my youngest group were so wide and glassy eyed the moment they entered the aula I could have stood there silent, holding a sign saying welcome for an hour and they would have enjoyed it. Still I was bloody nervous. It went well. Sort of. They learned about some of the things we can do with computers mainly by jumping around. I learned that an hour is a lot longer than I thought and that speaking Spanish only really gets interesting when you have to improvise. I left for Las Mangas that night feeling pretty chuffed with myself. However, my second lesson was a completely different story.
Feeling as if I never have enough vocabulary to properly express myself is a reality I have had to accustom to since being here but my second class brought a slightly different and much scarier reality. Faced with the oldest group of students, after a 40 minute walk up a hill in midday heat, somehow I managed to completely forget every single word I knew in Spanish. I was also teaching on my own, which meant I had to mumble my way through an hours worth of class with a bunch of unimpressed teenagers. The first three weeks in Tegucigalpa had nothing on this. It was horrific. I pretty much decided straight after that class to throw out the class plans. Translating an entire class beforehand is not good idea. They lied to me…you can be TOO prepared. It makes you default to reading it of the paper and not teaching it. Or worse, and I did this too, it makes you default to English with a group of people who can’t speak it. Bloody idiot.
I suppose it would be easy to let this sort of thing get you down, but I am finding since I came here that both my pain and humiliation thresholds are getting higher and higher. The first thing that tends to run through my head is ‘It could be worse’ which is a very English thing to say I know, but when you are living in communities with people who live in mud huts and have no clean drinking water it suddenly all seems very fitting. So I ventured back up the hill the next day and got on with it and I am happy to say it went swimmingly.
As the saga of the lazy builders continues I have had to commute from Las Mangas to El Pital everyday I can’t really say that I feel part of life up there yet. Last week I spent a few nights at Scott and Elly’s house which meant I got to cook with some local families and spend time getting to know some of the 200 people that live there. It’s very friendly and very small and I feel like everybody knows my name. There has been something very nice about entering and leaving the village everyday before or after my sweaty trek up and down the valley with every other person saying hello or goodbye to me. I feel very welcome. Although it’s been nice to retreat to Las Mangas every night I guess I have been a little restless for them to attach that toilet to the damn floor and put in my kitchen sink so I can finally settle there. So today I can confess to having an irrationally happy moment when Tonio my landlord flushed my toilet for the first time! It doesn’t sound like much but that flush was like the go signal and I immediately started painting the room and unpacking. Tonight will be the last night I sleep on Victor’s floor in Las Mangas. It appears my El Pital experience is about to start for real and now I won’t have to say goodbye to that community every night. I am really excited, really excited. I say that now, it’s always lovely at the start isn’t it? Lets just wait for the “Help I feel like I am stuck in an episode of Cheers” blog that will inevitably follow later on in the year.