Laura's Year Abroad

FGCU Service Trip: Guatemala

2012-01-18T08:38:00.000-08:00

December 1

The plane ride to Guatemala went quickly and smoothly for me. I sat next to my friend Jianna and a man from Guatemala. He was extremely nice. He has been living in Miami for many years but still struggles with English a little bit. I started practicing my Spanish with him right away and he appreciated it. He asked all about our travel plans and even said we can let him know if we need anything during our travels, he would be happy to help and he boasted about how beautiful the country is. Just before landing we looked out the window and all we could see were enormous mountains and some valleys with small towns in them. I had never seen anything like it. When we got closer to land we saw that almost all of the buildings had rusted tin-like roofs. I instantly became excited just by the view out the window.

When we arrived at the Guatemala City airport and all dozen of us, including our professor’s adorable 2 month old baby, Oliver, took a van to Xela. It was a 5 hour drive from the city and we stopped at a typical Guatemalan restaurant on the way. I ordered black bean soup. It was thick and had a unique Guatemalan cheese in it. The woman in the kitchen made the tortillas that came with our meals by hand and you could hear her slapping them through a window to the kitchen.

During the drive we saw many mountains and beautiful views of the towns. We also saw Guatemalan chain restaurants like Pollo Campero, and “mom and pop” shops that were operated out of what looked like garages. The streets were very bumpy and there were stray dogs everywhere. We passed beautiful sunflower-looking weeds called flores de los muertos (flowers of the dead) because they only bloom after the day of the dead. I knew the air was beginning to get cold because the windows were fogging up on the drive. On top of that, there were not many street lights and at one point our driver accidentally was driving on the wrong side of the road with a median in between. It was a long winding road to our new home for the week.

After the bumpy ride to Xela (aka Quetzaltenango), we arrived at Celas Maya, our school for Spanish classes. We took our luggage out of the van and drug it across the cobble stone street to the doors of the school. We received our orientation to the school and were informed of the extra-curricular programs they offer, what to expect from our host families, and what our host families expect from us. I was assigned a family with Jianna, which worked out perfectly.

Our host mother picked us up and we were off to our new home up the hill. Jianna and I were slightly embarrassed by the fact that our luggage for the week could barely fit in the car.

We were greeted at home by a 13 year old daughter, 9 year old son, and a 3 year old son. They were very polite and respectful to us as guests, and the baby laughed at our attempts at Spanish and Jianna’s blonde hair. We entered a large open area which connected to the living room, dining room and kitchen. Up the first flight of stairs were 3 bedroom doors and a bathroom. Our host mother showed us how to use the shower which had a heater in the faucet head and she warned us that we cannot spend more than 7 minutes in the shower. She also pointed out that the pluming does not allow for us to flush toilet paper down the toilet, that it must go in the trash can. In the hallway of the second floor was a mattress on the floor and a rifle showcased above it. We later found out that the mattress served as the sons’ trampoline and provided them their daily playful exercise. Our rooms were up the second flight of stairs to the roof of the home. We opened the door to the roof and as I attempted to close it behind me our host mother assured me there was no need. After all, with no heat or air, and no fear of bugs, what was the point? The deck had an amazing view of the city and the near and distant mountains. On our deck was the aired laundry and the sink for washing. Our rooms were built separately on the deck with individual doors, a tin roof and wooden interior. They were equipped with one bed, a desk, a plastic lawn chair, and a dresser. The walls were decorated with the graffiti of thank yous from previous exchange students in the home. The air was cold and there was no heat but I was exhausted and piled on the layers and snuggled under the piles of mix matched sheets into bed.

View from our bedroom deck

December 2

I woke up extra early in the morning to the call of roosters and feisty stray dogs. The sun rose early and brightly through the windows of my room, making my jet lag reach its peak. Breakfast was pancakes and syrup. We could smell it when we opened the door into the home from our deck upstairs. When we followed the smell downstairs and greeted our host mother, we saw a car parked in what we thought was the foyer. Breakfast was delicious and somewhat unexpected. We told our host mother our plans for the day and she sent us out the door. A boy from Holland was waiting outside to pick us up. He told us he was staying with family members of our host family. He had been in Guatemala for 6 weeks and his classes at Celas Maya were his first Spanish classes ever. He spoke highly of the Celas Maya program and reassured us that we will learn a great deal in just the week we will be in Xela. I tried to make a mental note of the directions and path we walked from the home to the school. It took about 15 minutes up and down hills on the broken sidewalk and cobblestone road.

We arrived at the school where we met half of the group of students on our trip to walk together to begin our service at TRAMA Textiles. We walked across the town center and up the steepest hill yet to the TRAMA center. It had a colorful door and when it was opened, we walked down steps to an immediate courtyard. The women at the cooperative gave us a background on the organization before putting us to work.

TRAMA

TRAMA Textile is a worker’s cooperative representing 400 indigenous women from 5 departments in the western highlands of Guatemala: Solola, Huehuetenango, Sacatepequez, Quetzaltenango, and Quiche. TRAMA is the oldest women’s collective in Xela. Many of the women cannot read, write, or speak Spanish. Five different Mayan language are spoken within the collective. The organization was formed in 1988 to aid women who had suffered losses and difficulties during Guatemala’s Civil War (1960-1996). People from the Netherlands and Belgium came to bring a global demand for their products. The women of the collective teach their daughters to weave because many cannot afford to send the girls to school. Weaving is an essential part of indigenous women’s daily life and identity in Guatemala. Woven textiles serve many purposes and carry symbolic value as well. Patterns vary across locations and skills vary among weavers. Patterns also have different significance, for instance, diamonds symbolize quality or worth, and deer represent Christmas and gentleness. All members of TRAMA are back-strap loom weavers and through the association they sell their products, ensure fair wages, and pass this ancient tradition to future generations. The patterns of their weaving vary from village to village, department to department, and from highlands to lowlands.

After learning the history of TRAMA Textiles, we began to make our scarves. We picked out three colors and spun our thread. It took me about an hour and a half just to double up the threads and spin them unto a ball to prepare it for the weaving. When I watched the women do it, I became envious of how fast they could spin it when it was taking me forever.

Me and Kevin

We had to head back to our home for lunch, about 2 ½-3 miles from TRAMA, so we knew we would get lost and had an employee of the school walk with us. His name was Kevin. I made small talk during the walk as he tried to figure out which house was ours based on the address he was given.

Jianna and I could not tell one house from another until we finally ran into it. Our host mother had a smile on her face when she opened the door and saw us confusedly holding up the town map. We had a large lunch of lo mein with the whole family. It is custom that when everyone is finished eating to say, “gracias” for the food, and in return the host says “buen provecho.” When a child wanted to be excused from the table during the meal, he or she thanked each person for the meal this way.

Me and my teacher Monica

After lunch, we began Spanish classes at Celas Maya and I met my teacher named Monica. She talked me through what we would learn for the week and gave me an entry level exam to see where she should start. I had wished I would have studied a little more before taking the test but I don’t think I did too bad for not having taken Spanish classes in two and a half years. Our class was 5 hours, with one on one instruction, but it went by pretty quickly for me.

At the end of the day a group of us went out to listen to a live band and drink some local Guatemalan beer at Arabe. We quickly became acquainted with the Xela nightlife.

December 3

Today we went to a textile museum near our home called Museo Viboz. It was in a courtyard of someone’s home. We learned different methods of how Mayans created their clothing from how the women of TRAMA make theirs. We were able to observe a thread spinning hand powered machine which is much quicker and more efficient than doing it entirely by hand. We also saw a very complicated intricate foot pedal powered machine used to design the patterns threaded into the fabric. The guide at the museum demonstrated how to use each of the machines for us, then let one or two of use try for ourselves.

The guide taught us a few things that I found interesting:
Europeans used to believe that the Mayans were naked, despite the Mayan art that displayed otherwise. Mayan clothing was made of cotton when Europeans arrived and it was evident in paintings and carvings. It was similar to what we see made by Mayans now. It was a mathematical science to create the designs in the clothing because they needed to select the colored threads to make patterns. They used numbers to create the layout for the patterns. The designs were translated into codes that always add up to the same number. In the ancient form, the designs were in their minds, not codes written down. This culture is considered live culture because it hasn’t changed but has merely been adapted to current times.

Some of the symbolism the guide had taught us were as follows:
Colors- magenta signifies sunrise, purple signifies sunset, white signifies air coming in, and yellow signifies air going out.
Peraje- strap of clothing worn on the left side to show a woman is married because her heart is covered and worn on the right side to show she is single because her heart is free.
The common two headed bird seen on some Mayan fabrics symbolizes duality of life as everything in life has opposites. It demonstrates that one must have equilibrium of both sides.
Our guide also showed us what certain designs were, as some were more difficult to decipher than others.

At lunch I had interesting discussions with our host family. We talked about the age of which children can obtain their driver’s license. Our host mother said that some families teach their children to drive at 12, and though it is illegal, it is somewhat common. During the meals the family allows the TV to be on which has opened my eyes to the television culture of the popular Mexican TV shows in Guatemala. I also asked about the children’s schooling. The children were all on their “summer” break. They have two months off and are back to school for the rest of the year. The 13 year old girl and the 9 year old boy go to different schools. They learn a choice of a Mayan language as their second language and classes are taught in Spanish. I was surprised that a language like English was not also taught as a second language, but there is no need for it in Guatemala.

Our host family :-)

Spanish classes went as planned, my Spanish teacher loved to get off topic to talk about culture and beliefs, which I really appreciated. Anything my Spanish teacher could say would teach me Spanish because it gave me exposure to the language and taught me what I was curious about. It was partially my fault that I asked so many questions during the lessons. One of the interesting topics we were on was cemeteries. Guatemalan cemeteries are colorful and the deceased are placed in caskets in above ground structures with flowers and memorabilia. On the rest of the trip we passed a few that looked like little miniature wonderlands. My teacher also told me about her travels to California and her work at a fabric factory. She visited relatives up north, but she preferred good ol’ Guatemala.

December 4

Today we met at 5 am to take a van to the Santa Maria volcano for a hike. We were absolutely freezing just walking to the school to meet. When we got to the foot of the volcano I was somewhat hesitant to start. I was surprised that there wasn’t a visitors center and gift shop for this magnificent natural site. After the first 15 minutes we lost some people from our group who felt too much strain due to weather, altitude, steep slopes. We had to climb up the dirt path and stones of the volcano. There was frost on the grass, although it never snows there. All of us were breathing heavy and craving breaks, until we watched a group of indigenous people pass us in open toed shoes and less clothing with smiles on their faces. It took us 5 or 6 hours to finally reach the top where we could view the active volcano behind Santa Maria called Santiaguito. We laid down and took all of it in. The sun came out and I took off my three sweaters. I could’ve gotten a nice sun tan up there. The walk back was more difficult than the walk up because we were exhausted and hot, and every time we were back in the shade of the trees it would be frosty cold again. At times I had nauseous feelings from the altitude and weather changes.

Me, Crystal, and Jeanellys

Indigenous people making it look easy...

When we came back we had lunch, or a delayed breakfast, with the group at a rooftop café. I had a vegetarian enchilada which consisted of piles of beets on a tortilla. After we ate we went home and tried to sleep off the hard work since we got no sleep the night before. The time went so quickly before we all met at 4 at a chocolateria to learn about the Mayan chocolate making history. The chocolateria, or chocolate factory, was run out of a home with the front as the chocolate shop, and the dining room as the room for sampling and learning about the chocolate. They had a regular home kitchen where all the cooking and baking happened by hand. First we watched a video about the history.

CHOCOLATERIA
Chocolate has helped the Mayans form their identity. It is considered a food of the gods and began being produced by Mayans in areas of Mesoamerica. Evidence of the use of chocolate is shown in many ancient Mayan artworks. Chocolate was used during ceremonies and for medicinal purposes. Chocolate was introduced to Europe before coffee and tea, but the Europeans did not give the Mayans credit for this. The Mayans used the seeds of cacao as currency, and it was considered money that grew on trees. There was more literature on chocolate than any other plant, food, or drink brought to Europe.

The process for making chocolate is as follows: -fermentation- increases acidity, takes 1-6 days-drying- this is when it loses half its weight-toasting/roasting- 200-215 degrees for just a few minutes-winnowing- removing the shells on the cacao-milling- grinding the remains on heating stone, metate

The Mayans traditionally prepared chocolate with water, cacao, cinnamon, and chili pepper, then they would create foam by pouring the hot chocolate from one vase to another. The Europeans changed the chocolate by taking out the coco butter, most likely due to the belief that fat is unhealthy, although the natural fat found in coco butter is good for your health.

The chocolate that we had at the chocolateria was all natural and organic because they do every step of the process on their own. They gave us samples of fruit to dip in melted chocolate, traditional hot chocolate, and yogurt with melted chocolate in it. After the samples we were given a ball of chocolate to create whatever we liked with it. We had to go to the back of the home to wash our hands in the sink that is commonly used to wash clothes. When I was there I saw their pet Macaw in a cage. I decided to talk to it and when I started laughing it repeated my laugh. The more I laughed, the more it laughed. I also realized that it knew how to say, “I’m cold” in Spanish. When I left the room it began to scream, “Tengo frio!”

At night we celebrated my friend Jianna’s birthday at a local bar called Café Classicos right by our house. It was a tiny bar owned and occupied by locals. When they realized that it was Jianna’s birthday they were very friendly and generous with food and drinks.

December 5

In the morning we went to TRAMA and began creating the patterns in the scarves. The thread that I spend hours rolling, now had to be woven on a wooden device that looked somewhat like an upside down table. We had to create our own symmetrical patterns by drawing columns of our 3 colors that add up to 180. For example; 10 pink, 5 green, 10 pink...etc. I decided to divide it into 90 and 90 and make equal patterns on both sides. I used my pink thread as the base color. Once I got the hang of the weaving it was easy, but it was difficult to keep track of where I was in the pattern I created. Once we finished this step, it was time to move on to the back strap loom.

December 6

At TRAMA I was ready to put my work onto the back strap loom and begin my final weaving. This was the most complicated part of the process and I honestly didn't think I would be able to figure it out at first.

In the afternoon, my Spanish teacher took me, as well as Jianna and her teacher, to the market to see how many of the locals get their groceries in the open market. She took us to a part of town that I didn’t even know existed. We saw fruit that is not grown or sold in the US, and the meat market was unlike anything that would probably even be legal in the US. They sold parts of the animal that I figured was not edible, and they displayed the heads of the animals on the table. Most of the shopping was outside in the street and we had to walk around the carts and blankets of goods, as well as dodge cars while we were browsing. This was one of the most interesting cultural experiences I have had on the whole trip. When we met at the hotel with our professors I had a lot to share about what I had seen and experienced during the evening.

During Spanish class we received invitations to what we thought was a local play. A few of us were interested in watching it so we trekked all around town with a boy who works at Celas Maya to see this play. We waited about a half hour, listened to their very long national anthem and their local anthem, 20 speeches, and then decided to leave. I thought it was odd that they would start a play with two anthems and tons of speeches, but we later found out that it wasn't really a play, it was just a tribute to a play... good thing we didn't sit through the whole thing!

December 7

Today was our last day at TRAMA and we finished our scarves. Jeanellys and I were the first ones to finish in our group. Later we all split up what we would get for the gift basket for the women at TRAMA for our going away party at night. Some of us put money toward a scholarship for the young girls whose mothers are in the collective, and some bought supplies for their office. The women gave us thank you speeches and fed us tea and cake to say farewell.

Our FGCU group with the women of TRAMA

It was also our last day of Spanish class. I spent the class showing my teacher pictures from the trip and asking how I can stay involved with Celas Maya. She informed me of online class options at the school through Skype. I gave her a thank you card and the bracelet I wore on my wrist because she complemented me on it and showed the other teachers.

At night was the graduation at the Celas Maya. We watched a movie and drank hot chocolate from Dona Pancha (the chocolate factory we went to days ago). After graduation we all headed to Piranda, a local club, for Salsa night. My failed attempts at salsa lead me to some very embarrassing encounters with guys who thought I knew what I was doing but were poorly mistaken...I had at least 5 guys approach me, and then end up teaching me some moves. Toward the end of the night we ran into the a woman we met at Cafe ClasicosCafé Clasicos bar and when Piranda closed we all headed over to CC for the after party and our final goodbyes to Quetzaltenango.

December 8

This morning we left Quetzaltenango for San Juan La Laguna. On the drive, we stopped on the curve of the road we took around a mountain to get a great view of Lake Atitlan. Since it had such a great view, people took up the opportunity to sell merchandise to tourists.

Our first stop on our way to San Juan La Laguna was Panajachel for lunch and quick browsing. There was more tourist-appealing vendors than we had seen anywhere in Xela and the liveliness of the town was exciting, but we didn’t have much time before we had to board the boat that would take us to the town of San Juan La Laguna. We took a boat for 30 minutes with all of our luggage to our hotel on the far side of the lake that I’m not sure is even accessible by car due to the large mountains. The boat dropped us off in a town called San Marco and we had to take our luggage on Tuk-Tuks for another 10-15 minutes San Juan. Then, where they dropped us off we had to hike through the woods, step on stones and handmade bridges of scrap wood, walk across the shoreline and up steep stairs, all with our luggage, to our hotel where we were the only guests staying. The hotel was gorgeous and romantic. It was covered in vines and overlooked all the other mountains and the water. It is labeled as an Eco friendly hotel because it has no heat or air conditioning, and it has a self-sustaining garden where they make all of their food from. They even make their own coffee from the coffee beans outside every morning.

After we got settled into the hotel, a man who worked there gave us a tour of the town so that we could find a women’s weaving cooperative to see different aspects of the weaving that we didn’t get to see at TRAMA, such as the picking of the cotton, rolling of it into thread, and the dying of the thread. We were able to get a brief glimpse of a few and learned that tonight was a huge celebration in the town that they have once a year to symbolically pass on a symbol of the Virgin Mary. People were decorating their alters and chopping grass to create the street murals.

When we walked back we saw locals playing volleyball and members of our group asked if they could join. It was fun to watch and interesting to see the cultural boundaries simply disappear with a universal sport.

At night time we watched the Virgin Mary celebration with saw dust art all over the street, and religious parade, and fireworks. The celebration at night time. Fireworks going off in the middle of the street, on the roofs of houses. It was terrifying because there was smoke everywhere, it was loud, and sparks of fire were landing on people. Only one other person in the group was as scared as me. I ran under the shelter of the soccer stadium at the school. Women holding their sleeping babies during the show were laughing at my fear.

December 9

This morning at around 6 am, Joey and I took a canoe from the hotel out around the lake. It was beautiful to see the sunrise hit the side of the mountain in the morning. I ignored Joey’s complaints that the boat was sinking, until we arrived back at the dock, lifted it up and saw a huge crack underneath.

When we got to land we explored the hotels facilities. We hiked around to check out the hot tub and sauna. Turns out the sauna is a tiny stone igloo you need to crawl in and generate heat from stones outside. I don’t think I could handle sitting in there too long. We continued further to see a bungalow with two rooms on the side of the mountain that was not connected to any other part of the hotel. It boggled my mind that they never locked the doors to any of the rooms in the hotel, including these.

Later, the group and I observed a women’s collective different from TRAMA in that it had bigger stock and they directly made articles of clothing from scratch. We learned about absolutely every step of the process and it was neat to see how self efficient and self sustaining the collective is.

Joey, Jianna, and I spent the rest of the day wandering around town. We even ran into the man from Holland that walked us to Celas Maya our first day in Xela. What are the odds?
We spent some time watching a youth soccer league right outside the school, had some laundry done at the Laundromat (aka, someone’s laundry room in their house), had lunch, and were exhausted by the end of the day. Then Joey and I went to the dock to watch the stars over the mountains to put an end to a great day.

December 10

This morning we left San Juan La Laguna. We had our last breakfast at the hotel and hopped on a boat to Panajachel. As soon as the boat dropped us off we were immediately approached by people trying to sell us stuff. There were about 10 stray dogs fighting by the water’s edge. We were surrounded by stands and tables of handmade clothing, table liners, jewelry and shoes. When I stopped to ask for a price and paused to convert it in my head, the people would automatically bring the prices down a little bit. It is not in my nature to be much of a bargainer. When I don’t like the price I tend to walk away. Joey, Jianna and I were followed by the same two women for five blocks trying to sell us table runners. They asked our names so that they could be more personal with us. Then they literally started running to catch up. We had 45 minutes to get back to the bus where we were meeting to head to Antigua for our last night in Guatemala. I was on a mission to buy all of my Christmas presents for the best price in 45 minutes. It almost became a free-for-all game where all of us were running around grabbing what we could, bargaining and moving on to the next stand. Panajachel is said to have the cheapest things for sale, and when we get to Antigua everything will be more expensive because it is a bit of a tourist city. I was able to get my hands on 4 little handmade masks for my nieces and nephews, a handmade table runner for my parents, a wooden musical instrument for my brother, and a hand decorated wine bottle for my other brother and sister.

After we piled into the van with all of our new goodies we headed to a Mayan ruins site on the way to Antigua. The site was really neat because you could see how an entire town was set up by Mayans, and could see the significance of each building structure. There were a couple at the site that had what looked like a bonfire going, with incense and other objects thrown into it. They were saying that it was a ritual to pray for good health and a prosperous new year.

When we arrived in Antigua I felt like I was in Europe. The people in the street dressed more modern and the streets were well paved. When we arrived at the hotel the first thing we wanted to do was shower since our showers were always cold in Xela. I took the longest shower of my life and did not want to get out. At the end of the day Joey and I explored the town getting dinner, shopping for more souvenirs and gifts, and then exploring the night life. We ran into Yvette and together stumbled upon an Irish pub, which would never have existed in Quetzaltenango. It was just about full to maximum capacity and they were only letting a few people in at a time. Men and women were dancing all over the bar and we were simply amazed by the crazy environment in there.

I truly wish my stay in Guatemala could have been longer, but it was time for us to pack our bags and head back to the U.S. I had an incredible cultural and educational experience on this trip and met great people that I will never forget. I hope that I can someday return to Guatemala to complete my studies of the Spanish language.

My last moments in Sanibel Island, Florida

2011-11-23T08:37:00.000-08:00

My home in Sanibel Island, Florida. I will miss this!

Final Days of Student Teaching

2011-11-02T17:02:00.000-07:00

As I slowly count down the days until my trip to South Africa, I approach many bitter-sweet rises and falls in my life. The first being my student teaching internship. I have been teaching full time in an ESE K-2^nd grade Intensive Academics classroom since August, and now I only have 2 ½ weeks left. I have grown so attached to my students and cooperating teacher that I cannot believe it is almost time to part. I still have so much more teaching to do, and so many ideas for the students; activities, books, games, experiments… I have seen my students develop so much from the first day and I have gotten a glimpse of their true potential.

The students I will never forget…

My student who came to class not knowing how to hold a crayon and not knowing if she was right handed or left handed, would cry every morning as she was dropped off to school for the first few weeks. She learned how to trace lines and shapes, and finally has begun tracing letters and writing letters on her own… “Look, I can do it!” she screamed when she made the discovery that it’s not so hard once her hand got used to it.

My student who quietly came into the classroom for his second try at kindergarten, with his red hoody and broken backpack. He made a breakthrough in reading that sent him out of our classroom, fulltime, just last week to be with a general kindergarten classroom with his peers. “Ms. Layton, whose birthday is that?” He whispered as he pointed to the October calendar with his name and a birthday cake on a date. “That’s yours buddy!” his mom and aunt threw him a huge surprise as they came to the classroom with cupcakes. He couldn’t stop giggling.

My student who has lots to tell me but I never understand a word of it. The morning he came in and said, “Me daddy hit mommy hard, he in jail.”- I heard it clearer than a bell. Still, everyday, he acts as a goofball and finds a way to trick us and keep life fun.. “Me didn’t get treasure box today..” He says, returning from speech and language, with a frown. “That’s so sad, I’m sorry.” –“Me just kidding!” He yells as he waves his new toy in the air. “You little stinker!”

My student who came to class knowing every letter of the alphabet, but who could not seem to put two letter sounds together to make a word. “aaaaammmmm…. Rat?” she’d sound it out and make a guess. Now she is reading short words in class and at home to show her parents how smart she is. I will never forget her artistic ability when it came to coloring- The colors were always dark, she blended them neatly, and never went outside of the lines. She also had the clearest singing voice when it came sing-along time. My cooperating teacher and I would stop singing just to hear it and watch in amazement.

My kindergartener with the advanced sense of humor… “School Rocks!” he’d say making rock and roll signs with his hands after strumming the air guitar. I would count backward to silence the room as a discipline strategy, and just as I began to enjoy the quiet I’d hear him say in his deep voice, “Awwwkwaaard.”

The boy who was told he couldn’t. Finding out he had leukemia and meningitis and that he tested to have an IQ of 35. “Ms. Layton, I like your shoes.” “Why, thank you!” I laugh because he always has something to share with a huge grin. “What’s your favorite game to play?” I ask for our monthly writing prompt. “Guitar!” he screams while pointing to the guitar on his shirt. “I’m impressed that a boy at your age is able to play such an instrument!” I proceed to write his words down on the writing prompt and allow him to draw his picture of a guitar. That boy is learning each day.

The boy who talks a million words a second. “Do I get a loppi-pop?”
“Can you say lolli?” I respond.
“LOLLI”
“Great! Can you say POP?”
“POP”
“Fantastic! Now can we put them together? Watch me- LOLLI (one hand up) POP (other hand up) LOLLIPOP (clap hands)”
He repeats “LOLLI, POP…. Loppipop” ---He’s too darn cute to correct!
“I wanna hear the song about blutterflies!” -----Here we go again…..

The mini teacher. From day one this girl was on a roll. She would pick up her peers from their inclusion classrooms to make sure they weren’t late to class, she’d help them log into their computer assignments and show them what to do. She always spoke in a kind little voice. I learned that she had been on a feeding tube and saw the hole on her stomach when she lifted her shirt one day to scratch an itch. It’s amazing how she went from pre-mature to too mature, and her mom was just 12 when she was born….

The boy that came to 1st grade reading night. I have 3 first graders in our class and 1^st grade reading night had approached in October. I figured I’d stay after school and hope to run into one while I volunteered, despite the slim chance of my students coming. Low and behold, 30 minutes late, he arrives with his baby sister and mom who spoke little English. I don’t think he understood how happy I was that he could make it and that his mom thought it was important enough to take the time for. He acted like such a grown up with his peers, I was proud.

The little trouble maker. This boy always seemed to want to push my buttons. He would shout out answers that had nothing to do with what we were talking about, he would jump out of his seat mid lesson to go to the water fountain or bathroom, would laugh when other people spoke…. But when he got in trouble he would repeat the rules to me like it was systematic “sit tall, track with your finger, act interested, respect others.” I think it was his way of apologizing and showing that he knew what he was supposed to do. He always seemed to shock me too. When I was showing the older students a globe, they all had acted like they had never seen one before. They couldn’t locate Canada, Mexico, or USA when asked, but just as I was about to move on and put it away this boy pointed straight to DC and yelled “Obama’s house!” Coincidence? Who knows!

The girl that came late. Seriously, she never came to school on time and would always have a theatrical and goofy “my silly mom” response about it when asked. She is going to be the ultimate valley girl, but a sweet one. Nothing ever bothered her and she rarely tattled on anyone if they said something mean to her or did something bad. One time, she asked for help with the computer program we were using. I said I would be right there after helping someone else. Well, I forgot, and by the end of that center period, I came around to check everyone’s work and she was still sitting there quietly looking at the computer with nothing on it. What a silly, yet very patient, girl!

My 2^nd grade boys. All of them cracked me up together. They were all best friends, and would remind you that when you tried to separate them. They would all compete with each other and then turn around and say “You’re doing great, awesome job!” I had them together in a reading group (no girls) and it gave me insight on what goes on in little boys’ heads…

One was Mr. Perfectionist. He would sit 10 extra minutes just to make sure his handwriting was perfect and that he checked all of his answers. “Dad said if I get an A or a B I will pass 2^nd grade.” Kids don’t need to think like that! I asked him what he wants to be when he grows up, he said, “After I get good grades in college, I want to put peoples food in bags at Publix.” …Ok, that’s an interesting start

One was Mr. Cartoon-man. He acted like a cartoon character when he was really into the lesson. He would do the over exaggerated GULP when he was asked a tough question, he would freeze and come back to life on command, he would act like a light bulb went off over his head when he figured something out on his paper (I could practically see the light bulb). Sometimes he would take the voices of different characters as if there was an episode going on in his head. That’s when it got odd. But he was happy!

And finally there was Mr. Teacher’s Pet. He unintentionally claimed this name because on most days I felt like he was the only one who gave a hoot about what I was teaching. When other students were staring at the wall, had their heads down, were picking their noses, he was always looking directly at me with his fingers laced. He was always excited to hear a new story and participate, he couldn’t wait to answer my questions and he even remembered stories he read last year in this class. Before answering any question he would say “Oh yea!” or “I know, I know!” and take a big, excited, deep breath. His brother is also in the class and you can tell they are little shining stars with their positive attitudes and strong desire to learn although it may be difficult.

Then there was the girl who could make me laugh as hard as my best friends do. This girl would get red in the face and laugh so hard you thought she would pee her pants and I had to hold back from laughing as hard as her because I am supposed to be the adult. She would find something to be hilarious and although we don’t speak the same language, I would always see where she was getting the humor from. When we were observing the caterpillars in the butterfly garden she looked really close with the magnifying glass. She had a strange look when she saw it, hanging upside down on a leaf, releasing its droppings up. She said, “Ms. Layton, it eats its poo.” I smirk a little because I can see how it would look like that, and she busts out laughing to the point that I wouldn’t be surprised if she cramped up.

Lastly, was the boy who only came during reading time. He was a handsome blonde boy, star of his football team, placed in our room because he was significantly below in reading. When he first came to our classroom, as a 2^nd grader, he was placed in my reading group of a 1^st grader and a kindergartener. He participated excitedly, but when he found out that the other students were younger, he shut down. From that moment on he worked extra hard and was reading 100 words a minute during timed reading. I suggested to my cooperating teacher that he be placed with the other 2^nd grade boys, and like that, he was moving up. “I can’t do it.” he said out of habit when asked to read the new words of the day. But, with the competition of being with his peers he would practice reading in his head before his timed readings and was beginning to get it. He blurted out, “You’re a good teacher!” and quickly covered his mouth and went back to his work. I still don’t know where that came from. “When do I get to be in here all day?” he asked. “This class helps you a lot if you have a hard time.” Another second grader responded. In my head I was happy that he enjoyed our class, but thought, “Isn’t the point for you to try to get out of this room?” His mother told his general education teacher that his reading skyrocketed in the past few weeks (since he had been in our classroom) and she even took two jobs over summer to send him to Sylvan with nowhere near the results.

Ok….. well, you got me, I wrote about all of my students. But that’s what good teaching is about. I have seen good in each and every one of them and would do whatever I could to make sure they have the best experience in school possible.

“Were going to have fun, but it won’t be as fun after November 18^th.”- That’s my last day of my internship.

All of my students are going different places and I can’t wait to see where they go. I hope I can keep in touch with them, maybe through a pen pal writing activity. I hope I have had as much of an impact on them as they have had on me and I hope they never forget me. Just last week I walked the last student, a second grader, to his bus. “Ms. Layton, I’m gonna miss you.”

Students' caterpillar chia pets- The grass grew so long we had to spend center just giving them hair cuts!

Home Sweet Home

2011-08-12T14:01:00.000-07:00

There’s nothing like arriving home and seeing my parents after months of fending for myself, moving into a new apartment, long work days, tough classes, and everything else that comes with being an adult. The last time I was here was for Christmas break, when we were trapped in a few feet of snow. As much as I LOVED running around town with my friend in the snow storm (yes, by foot), nothing compares to the Jersey Shore in the summer. First stop, the boardwalk.

My mother and I love to walk. We walked around town the first night so that she could show me all that has changed. We passed my old school, St. Joseph’s Regional Catholic School which closed in 2001, when we were all forced to take the bus off shore to a newly built, bigger school. After a half a year at the new school I quickly came back to the island to attend the local public school, which, surprisingly is still holding up. Well, St. Joseph’s, after it has been closed, has been used for CCD classes, and Sunday masses in the cafeteria. As I passed it, it brought back memories of playing in the cement parking lot. Our playground was a hop scotch game and four square painted onto the lot in white highway paint. We somehow always used our imagination to occupy our free time after lunch. Now, the half of the building where our classes had been, has been knocked down and turned into an even larger parking lot. The lines of white paint are now longer and used so that cars can park one after the other, blocking every last one into a spot.

As we continued to walk we reached the board walk. There is a new lifeguard building with clean and polished bathrooms where the old wooden ones that gave you splinters used to be. And further down, there was a new gazebo. The old one was longer over the beach and perfect for sneaking onto the beach without beach tags. When my friends and I forgot our tags we could always count on heading to JFK blvd to walk to the end of the gazebo and jump down 8 feet into the sand without the beach tagger seeing us. Now the gazebo has railings that prevent anyone from doing so. I have a feeling the taggers have caught on to our scheme. I am sure new memories will be made at this gazebo, as my brother is planning his wedding in September to be held there!

Just last summer, I visited the shore to see my family and we saw a “movie by the sea” where all the families brought their beach chairs and Sea Isle City rented a large movie screen for everyone in town to enjoy. Now, there is a new stage with lights and TV screens on the side for all kinds of events. Later my mother and I would enjoy the “Sea Isle’s Got Talent” show as well as the showing of “Shrek Ever After.” Tonight was kid’s dance night with a DJ. They played music until 11 o’clock and children were still dancing the night away with their families. I saw myself in the face of some of the children there, and even the pre-teens that watched from the railing of the boardwalk while mingling with the summer boys.

Since Sea Isle has become such a hot spot for tourists and summer vacationers, they have built an information center with a map of the island and brochures of all of the planned activities for the “shoobies.” Someone once told me the word “shoobie” came from when the shore was a place for people from the city to visit for the day. They would bring their lunch in shoeboxes for the day, hence the name. When does one go from being a local back to a shoobie? Or, if one spends enough time in one area, will they forever be a local? It makes me wonder since I my recognition of this town is beginning to fade.

I visited the stores on the boardwalk, most of them still the same. I dropped in to one store that the parents of one of my best friends growing up owns and runs. It is good to see they are doing well and still enjoying what they do. My dad, since he has retired, has pick up the art of pottery. He is now selling his work in Sea Isle in the summer, and Sanibel Island, Florida, in the winter. He has a table at a boardwalk shop displaying his pieces for sale, and he also sets up stands at every flea market he can get his hands on. Oh what I have to look forward to in retirement!

On the walk back I passed the historical St. Joseph’s church, and the new and improved St. Joseph’s next to it. The new one seems like a larger version of the last one, it has very similar architecture. Looking at the stained glass windows of the old church makes me wonder if you are morally allowed to simply knock down a church with so much prayer and history behind it. I would save that church simply for the smells of incense that came out of it and the memories that it evokes of me being an alter girl and being able to ring the bell when Father Carey lifted the Eucharist, walking from the school to church to recite the Rosary Beads and say our confessions, being scolded for speaking during mass, buying sticking buns from MaryAnne’s bakery on Sundays after church…(MaryAnne’s is in the same condition as ever, I was happy to see :-)

We stopped and got ice cream, as tradition in the summer, to enjoy on our way back. My favorite part of Sea Isle is the life in it. People sit on their front decks and walk or ride a bike anywhere they need to go in town. You always run into someone you know on the street, whether in the day or even late at night. Everything is open late because people never want to finish socializing!

Photo of Yum Yum's Ice Cream Shop by the beach on JFK Blvd.

The rest of my trip home consisted of seeing my old friends from high school and elementary school, mostly my neighbor who has lived down the street and who I have been friends with since I was about 5 years old. I attended Aerobics classes with my mom and the local Aerobics Chicks in town in the mornings; went paddle boarding around the lagoons behind my house, passing all of the new mansions and side-by-side houses that have been built in my absence; went to the roof-top pool of the Spinnaker on the boardwalk; ran into classmates I haven’t seen in years all over town walking, driving, working at the bars, bank, restaurants. My parents took me on a boat ride to a local restaurant down the bay where we always get free appetizers when we come in. When we docked the boat, I looked up to the deck restaurant and saw two boys I used to babysit. They are now in middle and high school. I chatted with them for a little bit and they were excited to see me, they remembered me taking them to the park, and reading them stories to help them fall asleep. On the way back from the boat ride we were stopped by the coast guard for a random safety inspection. We chatted with them about Operation Fireside and how we take in Coast Guard trainees every Christmas while they are in training, so that they can celebrate off site since they can’t go all the way home. Thankfully we had no violations!

The next major thing I did was look for a bridesmaid dress for my brother’s wedding! They are getting married in September on the Sea Isle City boardwalk! It is an exciting time for them and I cannot wait for them to start a new chapter of their life.
Next stop for me, heading back to Florida to start my internship!

A Long Ride Home

2011-08-01T21:03:00.000-07:00

I came to college in Florida from a small town in New Jersey called Sea Isle City. This town has always been a part of me as not many people have had the experience of living here all year round since it is mostly a vacation town. I am taking a week and a half off my summer job to visit my home town and my family as I have done every year I’ve been in college.

The beginning of my journey home: a 2 ½ plane ride.

On the plane I was able to finish a novel I had been reading the previous week called “School of Essential Ingredients” by Erica Bauermeister. My mother is in a book club with her closest friends and she mailed it to me months ago with a letter stating that I must read it. This novel is about 8 students coming from very different lives to one cooking class searching for more than just a few new recipes to bring home. The chef that teaches the Monday night cooking classes is a single woman named Lillian and she seems to know exactly what every student needs through what she brings to the table for each of her classes. Each chapter highlights a person in the class’ memory that is evoked by the meal, or simple ingredient, Lillian brings to the class. If a chapter were written about me it would start with a tuna fish and cheese hoagie with a bottle of chocolate milk. During the summers of early elementary school I took sailing lessons at the yacht club down the street from my house. I was given my first glimpse of independence when I could walk myself to these classes and afterward, walk myself all the way down to the other end of the block to a small mom-and-pop convenience store to buy a homemade tuna hoagie and a bottle of chocolate milk. This became routine for me and now, when I pair chocolate milk and a tuna hoagie, memories of summers at the Jersey shore are elicited: running around the block in my bathing suit, going from one neighbor’s house to the next to see who wants to come out and play, jumping in the back bay with noodles and inner tubes, splashing and pouring soap in the hot tub, the hot sun, the salty air, the sound of seagulls, the sight of ducks, sticky buns from MaryAnne’s on Sundays, finding baby turtles and keeping them as pets for a few hours until we released them again to the sea...

One of the students at the School of Essential Ingredients, named Antonia, is from Italy. Upon being asked by another student, why she moved to the United States she stated,

“…the place where I grew up—it was wonderful, like a warm bath. So beautiful, and everyone so loving. All the time, I knew what to do. If someone invited me to dinner, I knew what to bring. I knew the hours of the market. I could tell you, right now, when to catch the next train to Pisa. There was nothing wrong. I just wanted—How do you say? A cold shower?—to wake up my soul.” (234, Bauermeister)

I am continually searching for that cold shower to wake up my soul.

Two and a half hours is a long time to think and books are a great way to trigger memories and new thoughts and even philosophies on life. I sat between two older men, in their late 50s, early 60s, who both had Carl Hiaasen novels. I love his work, so I pointed out to the two men that they were reading the same author. This started a long conversation about fictional characters that these two gentlemen have a common acquaintanceship with. Books can bring people together and make this world a smaller place.

The next novel I began to read is “A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier” by Ishmael Beah. I moved into a new apartment just days before my flight to New Jersey. This apartment is rented by the same people for a few months every year, and I am only living there for my last semester at FGCU (during the months they are not there). This book was one I found in the closet near old tattered novels. It was the freshman reading book 2 years ago at FGCU and the setting for most of the book is Sierra Leone, Africa, so I figured I’d give it a try. The boy in the novel has lived the most brutal life imaginable (I do not say that lightly). Despite the terrible circumstances of the boy in the novel and the nightmares this novel has given me, he gives me hope and makes me proud to be moving to South Africa where I can get a glimpse of history in the making. If this boy can turn his life around so dramatically, anyone can! I love learning about people and their unique cultural differences through memoirs because I am able to get a feel for life in another country better than I could by googling that country. I now feel as if I have a piece of Sierra Leone in my heart and I am painfully reminded of the social injustices that take place abroad, as well as in the U.S. every day. Working for an NGO is looking like a strong possibility in my future.

A passage I took to heart from this novel goes as follows:

“ ‘We must strive to be like the moon.’ An old man in Kabati repeated this sentence often to people who walked past his house on their way to the river to fetch water, to hunt, to tap palm wine; and to their farms. I remember asking my grandmother what the old man meant. She explained that the adage served to remind people to be on their best behavior and to be good to others. She said that people complain when there is too much sun and it gets unbearably hot, or also when it rains too much or when it is too cold. But, she said, no one grumbles when the moon shines. Everyone becomes happy, and appreciates the moon in their own special way. Children watch their shadows and play in its light, people gather at the square to tell stories and dance through the night. A lot of happy things happen when the moon shines. These are some reasons we should want to be like the moon.” (17, Beah)

Frosh Mosh 2011

2011-07-21T10:25:00.000-07:00

Last weekend was FGCU's inaugural Frosh Mosh retreat. I spent time spring semester with a 8 Multicultural Ambassadors planning this retreat for freshman to make the most of their college experience at FGCU. I was able to take part in the planning of the schedule, creation of presentations, low ropes activities, selection of student participants, and finally the implementation over the weekend.

Mission:
The mission of the Office of Multicultural Student Services (MSS) is to create an environment at Florida Gulf Coast University that embraces individual differences, sustains inclusion, and cultivates a campus atmosphere that is free from biases. In the spirit of inclusive educational excellence, MSS promotes a supportive and friendly environment that is welcoming and attractive to all persons regardless of race, ethnicity, nationality, socioeconomic status, gender/gender identity, religious conviction, sexual orientation, or disability status.

The goals of Frosh Mosh were to create an outreach program designed to welcome and aid transition and adjustment of incoming students, to provide a supportive opportunity that improves retention, achievement, and graduation of multicultural students, and to provide an opportunity for incoming students to become involved and engaged student leaders at FGCU.

We started the weekend off checking the students into the dorms of Biscayne Hall. We got to know the students by sitting in our "Mosh Pit" groups, mine was M.P. 4, or THE BIG 6! And we played Name Aerobics to remember each others names. Our first presentation was Diversity 101 and then we had an ice cream social. After the ice cream social we broke out into Mosh Pit groups and discussed what we learned today and talked about the students feelings coming into college and being away from home. Day two was a little more physical and it was started off with a low ropes course. We facilitated low ropes activities including Helium Ring, Magic Carpet, Mouse Trap Maze, Human Golf, and Hot Stuff (which turned out to be a favorite). The students stayed in M.P. groups and had 30 minutes at each station, including some time to reflect on learning. After lunch the students took their True Color tests to see which personality color they fit under. I was one of the few Blues at the retreat. The True Color test is designed to help people with interacting with others who have different personality types and it seemed to have been pretty accurate this weekend. After True Color, we had our first Multicultural Ambassador presentation, then dinner. After dinner we planned our skits that were drawn from a deck of index cards, my group had the song "F- You" sung to country. Planning our skit had to be one of the highlights of the weekend, even thought the skit itself was horribly embarrassing! After the skits each student shared a talent with the whole group. I built up the courage to sing the star spangled banner while one of my M.P. group member signed it (American Sign Language). She said she would only sign it if someone sang it, and I definitely wouldn't have sang it if someone wasn't up there with me. Some other people showed off their karate skills, head stand yoga pose, other languages, break dancing, etc. Then it was reflection time in groups. Every night before bed there was a group of students playing mafia, and it got prettttttty intense! The last day the students were required to dress formally. The day revolved around Multicultural Ambassador presentations, a final group reflection, and then the closing banquet. The students' parents were invited to come to the banquet and it was a really great experience. Three students spoke on stage about their weekend. I was really proud of my group member that spoke! I could tell that the students in my group are going far in college and I cannot wait to see where they end up getting involved at FGCU. The Mosh Pit leaders made paper plate awards for their group members. My group members got the awards of Social Butterfly, Mr. Nickname, All American Girl, Most likely to smuggle weapons into the U.S. (She was from Brazil and her hands are registered weapons from martial arts), Most likely to smuggle a Dotson into the dorms, and Miss FGCU. Most of the students checked out with their parents after the banquet, but some stayed because they had freshman orientation the next day. I had a really great group of students and I am extremely happy that they all got along so well and that they want to stay friends next semester. I hope we can all stay in touch. I had so much fun with the group this weekend that even though I had work at 8am the next day, I stayed another night in the dorms and played games with the freshman all night!

Acceptance into the University of Cape Town

2011-07-07T11:12:00.000-07:00

I looked at my application status on UCT's website today and I have been accepted! Now I am waiting on my acceptance letter in the mail so I can apply for my study Visa right away. Everything is right on track. It feels like my travels are right around the corner. :-)

On a side note, I celebrated Independence Day this past weekend in Washington DC and ran into two girls in the ladies room at restaurant from Japan on the 6 month Rotary Scholarship in high school. What are the chances? They're time in the U.S. is almost up but they were happy to see that I am preparing to travel soon on the same scholarship. It is so exciting to see how much of an impact the Rotary has everywhere I go.

Windows to the underground cafe outside of the National Gallery of Art in D.C.

Entrance of the D.C. Botanical Gardens

Civil War Memorial in the National Gallery of Art

The Capitol Building on the 4th of July!!!!

Rotary Scholars Seminar- University of Tampa

2011-06-30T07:17:00.000-07:00

Last weekend was my training at the Rotary Scholars Seminar held at University of Tampa! We started the weekend by introducing ourselves to local Rotarians and other scholars both current and former. The other scholars at this seminar were going to Singapore, Australia, England, Spain, Scotland, Ghana, Ireland, and surprisingly there was another scholar planning on attending the University of Cape Town in South Africa at the same time as me! We were given a packet with tips for while we are traveling, and also heard plenty of stories from former scholars of funny situations, overwhelming cultural differences, etc. We were able to practice speaking in front of our peers and watched what our speeches to Rotaries abroad should look like. I was lucky that there were two former scholars at the seminar who studied in South Africa so I was given specific pointers of where to go, where not to go, what to do, and what not to do so that I will stay safe and make the most of my experience. I was impressed that a former scholar in South Africa is now working at Oprah’s School for Girls and she is studying to become a traveling consultant training principals of at risk schools. She has been a great role model for me this past weekend and we will stay in touch using our travel blogs.

This seminar has also taught me about the Rotary International as a service organization and how to stay involved after my scholarship year. I look forward to staying involved and working with the Rotary both here and in South Africa and I cannot wait to share stories of my travels when I return!