I know, I know. It might be a bit early to be counting down until I get home, but seriously, it's never too early when you're anticipating crisp, white snowfall, family, friends, warm drinks, blazing fires, and conversation. But I don't forget where I am and what I'm doing currently--my life is in Quito right now. I have to focus on my circumstances, as my students love to say, "in these moments," "at this moment", or "actually" (a false cognate). Soon, I'll probably be speaking like an Ecuadorian learning English.
Things here are good and bad. Work gets better as time goes on, but my patience for the city gets tested to a greater extent every day.
I'm not always sure how much more honking, staring, disorganization, or creepy comments I can handle. But, one day at a time! With supernatural aid, I handled Monday's problems, therefore Tuesday's will just have to wait for tomorrow.
Teaching is really enjoyable! I have to laugh as I say this. Let's just take a look at my life and see how often I've been wrong (I literally only learn things the hard way, so it's fairly often I'm wrong...)
Not going to college at all? Went to college.
...at least not college in Michigan, much less Hillsdale? Proud graduate of Hillsdale College, 2012.
Greek life not for me? Pi Beta Phi, 2010 initiate--one of my favorite college decisions.
Catholicism not really where it's at? I am eternally grateful I was wrong.
The Midwest is not really that cool? Now I wouldn't want to be anywhere else!
Was never going to be a teacher? Currently quite happy as an English teacher.
Newest endeavors: guitar and cooking. So far, fairly successful in both as practicing continues. And I definitely had doubts about my capabilities. I'm pleased I'm wrong so often.
What else am I wrong about? Can't wait to find out!
A few stories to wrap things up:
Though teaching is pretty wonderful, there are times when I just can't quite make myself enter the classroom. (Not so much anymore, though.) For example, when Nathalie and I were expected to teach a Conversation Club last cycle--it must have been late in the cycle, we were going a bit mad--we had to run for an absolutely necessary Nutella break. The nearest tienda sells little packets of Nutella for 50 cents and gives a tiny plastic spoon with which to eat it plain. Seriously delish. So, armed with chocolate reinforcements, we marched back into CEC but realized that it took a little longer to eat than expected. On the way up to the 5th floor, we had to delay our arrival in the elevator, going multiple times between the negative third floor and the eighth, of course dying of laughter the entire time. Roughly ten minutes late, we scurried into class, wiping the remains of Nutella off our faces...I'm not sure this was the wisest of choices, but it was hilarious. It won't happen again. But, desperate times call for desperate measures...and the sweet, gooey, goodness of hazelnut and chocolate.
Last week in Conversation Club, one of the students whom I also had last cycle started quoting from memory "Margaret, are you grieving over Goldengrove unleaving?..." And I almost started weeping. This job is especially wonderful when students really invest themselves! ..I even shared some of my own poetry with them last cycle. I so rarely do that. In addition to GM Hopkins, we also discussed Shakespeare, a bit of Aquinas, and I made a few book recommendations. Now, I've got 'em reading The Brothers Karamazov! Good heavens! It's fantastic! I have so much more freedom in the conversation classes, but I still introduce as much topics of substance as I can in my Advanced and Intermediate grammar classes. What's the use of a language if you can't discuss the good, true, and beautiful? Today we had oral exams and I love getting to know the students better: why they're studying English, a favorite childhood memory, etc. It's fascinating.
Unfortunately, I'll end on a somewhat sour, but amusing, note. I was walking home from Mass at the Basilica yesterday, and bemoaning the fact I was walking the streets alone, feeling fairly unsafe, and repenting of my shoe choice, among other complaints. Of the several creepy-ish people I passed, I unfortunately happened to glance at an elderly (mid 60s) security guard at a store. My mistake. "¿Preciosa...por qué estás tan sola?" Ew. Don't call me precious. And you wonder why I'm so alone? Yeah. So do I. At times like these, I wish I had some big guy with a good fist handy...I did laugh to myself though. He asked me the precise question I was asking myself.
So, that's my life: the good, the bad, the ugly, and the hilarious. It's what I've got.
And if it occasionally gets too crazy, I might just have to return to Papallachta, a natural hot spring I went to with some friends on Saturday. One of the many benefits of living in Ecuador: natural beauty abounds once you escape the bustling city life.
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| Happy birthday, Val! Now all of these kids are in their 20s. |
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