Massive update: UNAB teaching, Fundacion Romelio, and La Tabacal

Once again, I've failed to consistently keep my blog updated. So here are the sparknotes on the last 5 weeks of my life in Colombia:

I returned back to Bucaramanga from my vacation travels in mid-January, as I was told my job would begin again on January 13th. I went to the English department, and was told that classes wouldn't actually be starting until the first week of February. It was kind of shocking to show up to my first day of work only to find out I could have kept travelling for another three weeks. Time is understood in a much more casual fashion here, and it comes as a shock to the system of somebody used to the rigid scheduling of the United States. I quickly learned that most students show up to class about 15 minutes late and show up to social events even later. To an extent, I've adopted these practices and I'm worried about learning to be 'punctual' when I'm back in the US.  

Even now that we're past the first week of February, my classes are only beginning to take shape. Every Tuesday morning I teach a class on English pedagogy to the Colombian professors in the English department. At times, it's a frustrating experience because the teachers at La UNAB are so heavily tied to their textbook that they don't really have the freedom to incorporate the ideas I present. It's also an odd situation because these professors all have their master's degrees in English pedagogy as well as several years of teaching experience. I, on the other hand, do not have any formal English teaching credentials and have spent quite little time in the classroom.  So there's quite a bit of role-reversal.

My weekly English conversation clubs also started last week, and have been going surprisingly well. In the first two classes I had over 20 new students show up...hopefully I can keep the momentum going. In the last conversation club I touched on the pending Colombia-United States free trade agreement. The students were unanimous in declaring that this deal would only allow the United States to further exploit Colombia's resources. I don't know enough about the free trade agreement's details to comment intelligently, but I'll be watching with anticipation as the bill nears a vote, which is expected to happen in March.

On Feb. 12^th I had my first classes with the youngsters at Fundacion Romelio. I was accompanied in class by Jenna Lane, a British woman associated with the Red Cross who has also been doing volunteer work in Bucaramanga.  We focused on the basics such as: Hello, How are you, I'm fine, and Good-bye. After forty minutes of trying to maintain order in a class of 20 four-year-olds, I realized just how stressful being a pre-school teacher must be. Regardless of the occasional disorder, the class went really well and by the end the students were getting the hang of their new English vocabulary. 

So that's the Bucaramanga update, at least as far as English teaching is concerned. I won't lie, at this point I'm frustrated with the experience. While I'm grateful for the teaching experiences my university has offered me, I still feel like I'm being underutilized. I came to Colombia under the impression that I would be working with professors in their classrooms. However, I spend only one to two hours a week doing this kind of work. As I said, UNAB professors have to jump through so many hoops fulfilling the book's requirements that they don't have much time to invite me to their classes. Also, being told to return in mid-January only to begin working in mid-February makes me feel as though my time isn't being respected. I understand that I'm the guest in a foreign country, and as such it's my obligation to adapt to the culture. At the same time, I wonder when critique from my part might be necessary...if no one ever raises their voice, nothing changes. Either way, I know that in the coming weeks my classes will be picking up, so I’m looking forward to more positive teaching experiences.

On a different note: On Feb.19^th my friends Luis and Mayra-as well as the previously mentioned Jenna- and I spent the day doing volunteer work at Finca ‘La Tabacal’. This small farm, about 30 minutes south of Bucaramanga, provides housing and other support services for land-mine victims. Most people who suffer land-mind accidents live in rural settings, and are thus quite far from medical facilities which can address their needs. La Tabacanal offers victims and their families a safe place to stay while they are undergoing treatment in nearby Bucaramanga.

Currently, the farm is developing its tomato garden, so my friends and I spent the day weeding and digging holes. We also took Fabian and Brian, two young boys who are living on the farm while their father is receiving treatment, to nearby Girón to get some ice-cream.

Fabian, 5, and Brian, 3, taking refuge in a rainbow 

Luis, Mayra, and Jenna having some ice-cream with Fabian and Brian in Giron's central plaza

 The tomato garden. It's still a work in progress, but soon there will be more than 50 tomato plants sprouting from this patch of land

The farm's residential facilities. Fabian and Brian, along with their mother and father, stay in the small pink house in the center of the photo. 

I've been going to La Tabacal about once a week for the past month. I hope to be able to keep going and to watch the progress of the nascent tomato garden. It's nice to be part of the good work La Tabacal does...at the same time, it's heart-breaking to see people whose lives were nearly destroyed just because of one misplaced step. I still haven't come to terms with what I've seen. A lot to process.

Popáyan

Popáyan is the capital of the southwestern department of Cauca. My time here was pretty uneventful, although pleasant...except getting food poisoning from some unfriendly tropical fruit. I went to the doctor and told him I ate some peaches which I thought gave me food poisoning. My Spanish was particularly off that morning because somehow or another the doctor understood that I got drunk off the peaches and proceeded to ask me how that was even possible and what was I doing in his office. But whatever, we cleared things up, and I survived.

Popáyan was founded in 1536. Today it's known for it's colonial architecture and Semana Santa processions.

It is also home to the scariest statue I have ever seen in my life.

Volcan Puracé

Puracé Volcano is roughly 15,000 feet above sea level and lies just outside of Coconuco, Cuaca, Colombia. The Volcano's last explosion (according to the infallible internet) was in 1977. The park ranger at the base told me it was in 1958 and that several geology students hiking to the summit were killed. Not sure who's right. A swiss traveler and I made the round trip trek from the base to the summit crater in about 5 hours. We got up at 3:30 am that morning to catch a crowded 4:30 am bus which got us to the base around 8:00am. After having some hot chocolate and cheese, we started up and were back down in time to have lunch with the park ranger. We saw some scary thunderclouds in the distance so we kept a brisk pace. Despite the looming rain, however, we caught some great sunshine and some pretty breathtaking views of the region.Standing on the summit feels like being on the moon.

The squiggly trail up to the top. At more than one point my Swiss pal and I felt like Frodo and Samwise scrambling up Mt. Doom

The view from the top, roughly 4,600 meters above sea level.

The crater. It's deep.
The peak used to be snow capped but has since lost all snow cover. An unfortunate sign of global climate change...the silver lining being that the hike is a lot easier without snow.

Tierradentro

I spent about two days in this area and was fortunate enough to explore the tombs with some Colombian anthropology students I met on the way up.

Tierradentro, a national park located in the Southwestern Colombian department of Cauca, is home to some of South America's most impressive and mysterious archeological sites. In the hills surrounding the small town of San Andres de Pisimbala lies an expansive collection of subterranean tombs pertaining to an indigenous group which preceded the current Paez indigenous community of the region. Little is known about the people who built these tombs, who archeologists think flourished in the region beginning in 600 BCE.

Under each of these green pavilions lies the entrance to a group of burial chambers. This grouping here is called Altos de Segovia, and is one of 5 grave complexes discovered around San Andres.

Visitors to the park descend through these trap doors and are able to get a first hand look at the burial chambers.

But first you have to survive the descent of about twenty feet. Many of the tombs had spiral staircases, although some had more direct, vertical, stairs.
The tomb entrance consists of a small door, which would have been covered by a large, flat rock.

The burial chambers in Tierradentro vary depending on the social class of those buried inside of them. Some of the common chambers held up to 60 bodies, while more elitist tombs may have only had 7. This tomb bears no decoration, suggesting it might pertained to people of modest means. The more elaborately decorated tombs--of which you cannot take flash pictures :( -- are painted in red and black thatch work which is meant to imitate the actual interior of this indigenous group's dwellings. These tombs essentially reflected a new 'home' for the deceased.

An uncovered grave. I'm not really sure how the roof disappeared from the tomb. Either way, it shows the size the of burial chambers. The park guide estimated that these tombs took 8 years to build, although I don't think there is any real consensus on how long the process actually took. Regardless, constructing tombs such as these required significant time and energy, which demonstrates the great stress this group placed on the afterlife.

Kicking it with the kids

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I've had the opportunity to do some work with Fundacion Romelio, (romelio.net), a non-profit educational center for pre-school aged children in northern Bucaramanga. The northern neighborhoods have the fame of being the poorest and most dangerous sections of Bucarmanga . Many rural Colombians displaced by the ongoing domestic conflict settle in this part of the city.

At the center, I've begun doing weekly English classes with the kids, who range from 2 to 5 years old. When teaching English to such young people, the most important thing isn't necessarily that they learn lots of new vocabulary. Rather, what matters is that they have exposure to the concept of another language and that they start to become familiar with a few basic words.

Classes so far have consisted of sing-alongs accompanied with drawings of the subjects in the songs. So far we've covered '5 Little Ducks', 'Baby Bumblebee' and 'Old MacDonald'. I've tried to keep the animal theme going because it offers something these young students can relate to. They really like the word 'bumblebee'...actually, they particularly enjoy yelling it as loud as they can. It must sound better that way. I have a disc of children's songs I got off of iTunes which I use in the classes. The copy of 'Old MacDonald' for some reason contains a verse about Old MacDonald having a Brontosaraus. I was quite surprised at how many students could actually pronounce this word (and how many can't pronounce 'duck'). It takes an incredible amount of repetition before the students start to remember the names of the animals, but for some reason everyone seems to remember the word 'chicken' on the first try.

Other than that, I've recently started doing private lessons with a 10 year old Colombian boy. His English is really impressive, so he's been retelling me all about the Harry Potter series. We just got done talking about the Sorting Hat. Everyone else in the world has read Harry Potter, except me. Now it looks like all I have to do is sit back, listen, (watch for grammar mistakes), and pretty soon I'll be able to talk to everyone else back home about Quittage and Voldemort.

Also, here are some statistics: Times I almost got hit by a bus yesterday:3; times I almost got hit by a taxi:2; times I almost got hit by a motorcycle:3. Times I actually got hit by a bus/taxi/motorcycle: 0. I think there's a cliche about 'close' only counting in horseshoes and grenades.

A short story about a short taxi ride

This afternoon I hopped in a cab to go home for lunch. I've repeated my home address so many times that I can almost say it without an accent. But today I didn't fool the driver and a few minutes into the ride he asked me where I was from. I told him I lived in the United States. He then switched into English, telling me that he had worked as a cab driver for over 14 years in New York City. During that time, he practiced his English with not only New Yorkers, but people from all over the world. It was interesting, he said, because it gave him the chance to learn many different forms of English. "I practiced my English with people from China, Japan, Africa, and the Middle East" he explained, looking back at me in his rearview mirror. "And you know who was the most difficult to understand?"

"Who?" I wondered out loud.

"Texans", he said.

I saw this coming

Before arriving in Colombia, I decided I would start a blog so that I could keep my friends and family updated on my South American adventures. I told myself I would keep my blog diligently and that I would post all kinds of amazing insights and pictures. But I knew this was just a pipe-dream and that my blog-discipline would soon wane.

And waned it has. So, after not writing for just over a month, I'm returning to the blog-o-sphere...we'll see if thoughts of interest to you, the reader, follow.

Here's the skinny on my English teaching: Not much to report. I spend most of my time 'observing' professors and rarely am I given time to do activities with the students. I guess this is supposed to be a 'prep' semester for me so that next semester I can (theoretically) take over my own class. But I've sat in classrooms for at least 90% of my life and 'observed' professors. To be sure, I've learned a few things from this most recent observation period (like don't sweat it when most students show up 15 minutes late). But the only way I'll be prepared to be a teacher is to actually teach. To make mistakes and learn from my mistakes.

Speaking of mistakes: I've been teaching weekly technical English classes to nurses at my university's medical school. It's not that this was a mistake...it's that for some reason only 3 of the 10 nurses have been coming to class as of late. I don't know if it's something I did. Could be due to the fact that without knowing it I designed an entire class period using activities from a book all the nurses had finished last semester. But I have a feeling their absence is a product of their recognizing the following: 1) They know I'm not in charge of their grade, and 2) I'm more or less their own age and therefore have difficulty being an authority figure, and 3) Having a demanding medical course load AND working at a medical clinic in the nights maybe doesn't leave much energy for going to yet another English class. Who knows. I will admit one big mistake on my part. I think I underestimated my students' enthusiasm. Everyone hates studying grammar, but the few times these nurses have had the chance to actually have fun with their English, they've been incredibly energetic and engaged. For example, one week we did a role-play in which a team of nurses had to explain to a student and her family that she had terminal cancer and only 6 months to live. They really liked this activity and especially enjoyed torturing their classmate with details about her impending death. 'See you at the funeral' was the last phrase uttered before time was up and class was dismissed.

In other news: I've recently been involved with an incredible organization in Bucaramanga called Fundación Romelio. Fundación Romelio advocates for the citizens of Northern Bucaramanga, one of the cities poorest and most disenfranchised neighborhoods. Specifically, Fundación Romelio operates a 9 classroom educational complex designed specifically for children ages 0-5. The idea is that this phase of life is extremely crucial for human development and that all children (especially those living in trying circumstances) deserve and need a nurturing environment in these early years. I visited the organization last Friday, and after sharing a snack of popcorn and crackers with some of the kids, we spent the next hour dancing. These four year old Colombian girls are the only ones who haven't made fun of my complete inability to dance. (It's not my fault I'm tall, white and Irish and therefore bereft of rhythm and grace). At Fundación Romelio being 6'1'' makes me comparatively a two-story building to these little people. It was nice being the center of attention of so many smiling faces who just wanted to share some time dancing and running around. And while all these kids seem very happy for the few hours a day they get to spend at Fundación Romelio, most will return to wooden shacks with dirt floors and insufficient protection from the rain. Unlike many kids, most of the children at Fundación Romelio (half of whom live in families which have been displaced by Colombia's internal conflict) can't wait to get to school in the morning and are reluctant to leave in the afternoon. Should any of you back home be interested in learning more about or supporting Fundación Romelio's incredible efforts, here is their web-page (in Spanish :S...but take a look and I'll answer any questions you may have!): http://www.romelio.net/index.html

So those are the Bucaramanga happenings for now. More to follow. Unfortunately a bunch of ants have just dug a hole leading to our kitchen counter...so I should probably go take care of that.