Having a Big Time

So ends my second week back on San Cristobal, first time teaching English as a Second Language, as a teacher, not an assistant. Classes are great so far: I teach level 5 in the mornings and level 1 in the evenings. Both classes are interesting, although very different in their own way. I try to make it fun by playing games, bringing in music (Beatles "Hello, Goodbye," for instance), and funny activities.

Last Friday there was a minga (community work day) and we took our classes outside and cleaned Playa Mann (across the street from the University) and the road. Some of the strangest items picked up: a fancy Barbie dress, silly string cans, one sandal, one sock, and a tarp. It's great to see the locals taking charge and cleaning up their home. The teenagers really get into it, maybe they don't mind getting dirty, maybe they have more energy to do such work. But I hope that it is because they are making change as members of the community, and that change will occur towards a more sustainable future for all life on the islands.

Last Saturday I joined the groups of Scouts (girls and boys involved in environmental education programs and activities all over San Cristobal) and other school children involved in the National Park's environmental education program and went to the highlands. There, we rode to El Junco, a large, freshwater lake from the rain being trapped between three very tall hills. We hiked around the lake, saw the mist dissapate to reveal the entire lake (first time I ever saw it), watched the frigate birds swoop down to rinse the salt from their feathers (they travel from all the different islands to rinse in this lake), planted miconia plants (endemic to the highlands of San Cristobal) after mora (blackberries) were removed from the hillside.

Next we went to Porta Chino, my favorite beach on the island, which is exactly like a postcard: fine white sand, clear blue waters, and nothing around but black lava rocks, crashing waves, and circling birds overhead. Surfed the powerful waves and soaked up the sweet sun rays on the beach.

We then returned to town and sat in our soggy swimsuits at a cevicheria. I ordered a mixto (cold "soup" with tomatoes, peppers, white fish, shrimp, lobster, and octopus).

Sunday rode with Jose's passengers to Isla Lobos and Leon Dormido, where we snorkeled and saw so much life underwater! Sea lions swim around you, begging to play and showing off their agile moves, fish dart around rocks and mantas are chased by sea lions. At Leon Dormido, MANY Galapagos sharks, fish, and several spotted manta rays. I also watched a sea turtle, which are my favorite. They are so silent and graceful and prehistoric.

Transportation

You know you are on a bus in Ecuador when the seats are oversold and yet the driver still picks up passengers to stand in the aisles for hours of the journey. You can buy helado, ice cream, and other snacks from the vendors who enter and exit the bus without it coming to a complete stop. You have at least 3 close calls during each taxi ride. Motorbikes weave between cars stopped at stop lights. Horns are used as a warning that your driver is making a close pass. Speed limits, stop signs, and driving lanes are mere suggestions. You can buy a ticket for a town three hours away for three dollars and sixty cents. But the return trip takes you seven hours, due to holiday traffic and congestion. You see a car marked student driver and you think how is this ever possible? Young people juggle bowling pins and meat cleavers for change at stop lights. You can read lots of interesting graffiti, some of the most common being: (insert name here) te amo (I love you). Plane tickets can be rescheduled at boarding time, no fees added. You still see fliers for individual guitar lessons plastered to light poles. The cool kids still sit in the back of the bus. There is always music played on the system. Or on someone's cell phones. And oftentimes, both. There are party buses that don't have seats, but have loud stereos, disco balls, and party lights. The taxi driver hands you the newspaper on a long fare, so after you've read a story, he can discuss it with you. Children sing for change and sell candy on the trolly. Everyone claps when the plane lands. People sell lottery tickets, fruits, steering wheel covers and other random things at stop lights. Riding a taxi in Quito is as close to riding in a rocket ship as I will ever get.

Be Here Now

Well, classes are done, and I have only two finals left before graduation. I'm so excited for my family to come visit me for a few days, I'm not sure when I'll be with them again... Many friends have already left, for jobs, for travel. It still hasn't hit me yet that I'm done here, and when I do return, I probably won't be coming back to Colorado. Actually, this probably won't hit me until I'm on my way to the airport.

My sister told me the other day that despite all the stress and never-ending lists of things still to do before departure, to enjoy these last few moments of school, of time with these friends, of time in this place. I realized that I am usually feeling nostalgia for the past, or excitement from planning my future. I don't often take comfort in the present, especially when I am busy and stressed out. Probably because I am caught up in a feeling that there is no end to this! But how untrue.

I want to slow down more and re-evaluate the stakes at hand, breathe deeply and say, "It is what it is." Even my most stressful days are still due to accomplishments I've made, goals I've reached, current challenges I'm undertaking. And if I didn't care about something, it wouldn't bother me. Edward Abbey says that love implies anger. That if you don't care passionately about anything, nothing can get you riled up, elated, or disappointed. There is a famous quote that I feel sums up this dilemma perfectly;

"Happiness is a journey, not a destination. for a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. but there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. at last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life. this perspective has helped me to see there is no way to happiness. happiness is the way. so treasure every moment you have and remember that time waits for no one." Souza

To me, one of the worst things in life is not knowing when you are saying a goodbye. It's important to me to have this knowledge prior and to seek out an appropriate ending, some closure, a peaceful moment to send a farewell. And while I have begun this process of getting closure with the people and places around me, I want to continue to do this everyday. To think of it as the only moment that matters. To take it all in like the first or last time, every time.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

I have three days left of classes, one major presentation, and three finals left of my undergraduate career. Forever. And while I am so ready to get through this next week, it's starting to feel a little strange. I'm glad that I have immediate plans after graduation, returning to the island of San Cristobal to teach English until January. Many of my classmates don't have any plans, and are really starting to get scared. I can relate, because even though I know what I'll be doing next, and it is already somewhat familiar, it feels uncertain due to the process of transition.

For the past three years I have lived in Fort Collins and been a college student, for the past five I have lived in Colorado. I felt young like a student and lived as cheaply as possible like a student and worked part time during the semester. Now, in about six weeks I'll turn 27 years old. (Gasp!) I know this isn't old, but it kind of sounds too old to be true. I haven't really felt like I've been aging (changing and growing, yes, but not getting older), in the last several years, but all of a sudden, I'm so close to 30! It makes me ponder where I'll be and how much I have accomplished in three more years when I hit that milestone...

Being a poor college student is a normal and expected stereotype. It's also entertaining: people feed you because they assume you live off of pizza and Ramen noodles. Sometimes your boss takes you out to eat. Friends who aren't in college treat you for coffee. But I'm no longer a poor college student. Now I'm just poor.

My goals are still changing, and along with them, my needs. I am currently in the best relationship of my life, and I'm realizing that through all my independence, I want to compromise some things to keep this wonderful companion. I feel a stronger need to stay in touch with friends and family. It seems as if everyone is getting married, having kids, moving across the country, leaving the country, etc. Also, I'm leaving a home that I've created five years ago, unsure of when I will ever return, if only for a visit.

I feel like volunteering right after school is the best situation for me. A chance to go somewhere and do something that I love, while getting used to being out of school and making time to do lots of things I've missed out on while being a student. Reading what I find enjoyable, for instance. I used to be such a bookworm and I miss that! I would be reading two or three, sometimes more, books at a time. Being able to pick up and go somewhere spontaneously is another big one, and this move back to the Galapagos definitely happened suddenly. Just being enveloped in day-to-day life, instead of being preached at about theory for several hours a day. Taking what I've learned and decide what to keep and what to dismiss, according to my reality. Going out there and seeing what I can contribute to the world around me. I can picture myself traveling to teach English as a Foreign Language, while volunteering in conservation projects and travel writing for the next few years. Who knows what will develop from that? I still have a goal to apply to Peace Corps before I'm 30. But right now, this is the dream that I am making a reality.

I Know This Much Is True

One thing I've been thinking a lot about lately is my intentions for travel and teaching. A Teaching Philosophy is usually a formal document used by traditional teachers on resumes and CVs as a way to land a job. They try to pinpoint their unique values, convictions, inspirations, and beliefs in a one to two page document and send it away to be scrutinized. The idea is to provide an alternative of a heart-to-heart conversation about why someone has chosen to teach, what they feel is important to be taught in today's world, and how they plan to teach said topics. This document is intended to be revised throughout a teaching career, as one changes and gain experiences in the classroom and with real students. So, without further ado, I present (for harsh criticism) my first draft of my Teaching Philosophy:

What is a teacher? A teacher is a mentor, a role model, and a fallible human being who strives to communicate and explore the surrounding world. A teacher is a person who is dedicated to Truth and Integrity, to Diligence and Sacrifice. A teacher doesn’t have all the answers, and never pretends to. A good teacher will tell their students not to take their word as fact.

What do I want to teach and why? I want to teach English as a Foreign Language, Arts, and Natural Sciences. There are many manners of communication: speaking, reading, and writing are just a few. Teaching English to non-native speakers is a way to mend separations and work through differences, culturally, geographically, and otherwise. Arts in any form are vital for self-expression and creativity. Looking at something in a new light is but one achievement found in education. Natural Sciences are relevant to understand the world around oneself, to look at the gears and wires of the systems taking place despite our own existence, and of course, how that existence affects such systems. The theme is that I aim to teach subjects that can be taught in a non-traditional manner. As a non-traditional learner, that is how I tend to provide information: with my hands, through pictures and demonstrations, by watching, copying, and creating my own variation, by promoting mistakes through trying.

Education is vital for life. Literacy is the first step of education, and there are many in this world without it. Basic communication skills are the next step of education, finding the words and ways to vent your thoughts and feelings, fears and desires. Philosophical and analytical expression is the next milestone of education. Reaching a point where one may discern about foreign systems and cultures.

Without Education, especially women, are almost certainly ensured a life of strife and poverty, of a lack of freedom and even a lack of basic human rights. If females are educated in a more widespread manner, control may be harnessed on some of the earth’s most complex problems: rising populations, HIV/AIDS epidemics, slavery and prostitution, and even world hunger.

It is my goal to begin each day by learning from the situations I encounter, while applying my own education, and offering lessons of my own. In this way I hope to benefit those around me, and to positively affect lives, and less negatively impact the earth.

Star light, star bright...

Yesterday I went hiking in the Comanche Wilderness with a good friend. The trail followed the Big Thompson River and ended up dumping us out onto a dirt road with log cabin summer homes on either side for a good mile or two, Glen Haven was originally founded as a summer home community, which I find totally bizarre. We stopped at a bench to watch the water and enjoy some wine, and talk in a meandering river-like fashion that we always seem to come to.
Walking back found ourselves in the dusk of Colorado wilderness, the inky outline of pines plastered against a fading emerald sky, a crescent moon becoming brighter and even brighter still. I was reminded of being at my parent's home in Kansas, last August, before I left to study abroad in Ecuador. There was a meteor shower and my mom and I sat in lawn chairs, wrapped up in a blanket, craning our necks for signs of celestial life. I don't recall ever seeing so many vivid bursts of light gliding across the sky.
I have always thought how romantic a notion it is to meditate on the moon or stare at a single star, and think that someone far, far away is doing the same. That somehow this connects us and the miles between just vanish away. While I was in San Cristobal, I noted the night's display with the same ritual. It was a little startling at first, I felt like I was gazing up at a totally foreign sky, not one that I had studied all my life. I didn't know these stars, these constellations, or the myths behind them. The sky was cluttered with stars, it was a total mess. They were dim and faint or bright and twinkling, practically overlapping one another. I recall witnessing several shooting stars while there, and always at a moment when I needed something reassured in my head or heart. It was like a cartoon light bulb above my head, those "A-ha!" revelations.
I am still magnetized to the evening sky, and am often found staring straight up, never mind an aching neck, sometimes with mouth open, dumbfounded in beauty. And I still can't shake the romance, that as I stand alone in the dark, someone else is fixed on the same star, and in that moment, it's as if we are sitting side by side, wrapped up in a blanket.

T Minus 32 Days and Counting...

Time is sure rushing by! I'm finishing up my coursework to graduate on the 15th of May and preparing for departure on the 20th! While at times this seems very daunting (my to-do list seems only to expand and never shrink), I am keeping my priorities in order and doing my best, since that's all I can do. And it's starting to feel REAL.

Maybe it's because I'm finally graduating with my Bachelor's degree, or that I am about to do what I've wanted to do for a long time (work abroad and travel independently), or that I'm about to turn 27 (gasp). I'm feeling like I'm finally an adult, that I'm leaving something behind, that my life is starting to turn into these dreams that I've had forever.

I've been showing my apartment to sublease, selling off furniture and other small possessions. I even have my bike posted for sale online, which makes me a little sad. My TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) courses have hit a slow patch, since I'm in the midst of what college so affectionately refers to as "Crunch Time." It's about as pleasant as it sounds. But everything is going pretty smoothly still, which gives me reassurance that this is a good move for me.

I was speaking with a friend from class the other day, she's leaving for Alaska soon for a summer gig, and we were talking about the pressure of deadlines and excitement for the unknown futures which lie ahead for both of us. She asked me if I was scared to be doing what I'm planning to do. My smile slowly dripped from my chin, "No, I'm not scared. Maybe I should be!" I joked. But later I chewed on this comment again. I understand that this experience will be very different from the previous time spent in Galapagos: I'm no longer a student, but a teacher, I won't be living with a host family, I won't have a gaggle of American (and European) students as a support system, and I'm staying for a much longer period of time, nearly three times as long as before. This is not a recipe for disaster, but it will ensure that the "newness" that never seemed to wear off before will probably dissipate much quicker this time around. And I'm ok with that. :)

I thought about how I have always been a loner, and that I thrive on time spent solo in order to recharge and organize my thoughts and to be creative. Here in Colorado, I live alone, my house is my kingdom, and whenever I wish to have a human connection, I can simply offer a smile and a greeting, in my native tongue. Most people in today's world walk briskly without making eye contact and are plugged in (cell phone, iPod, whatever) and oblivious to what they are passing by, literally. I often feel invisible in my university and my town. It is what it is.

But I remember being in Quito and the Galapagos, I am not a round peg. I am tall and pale and my Spanish leaves much to be desired. Communication is more challenging, however I was always able to compensate through my typically animated speech and the kindness of the people, not to mention a pocket-sized bilingual dictionary. I realize that I will feel much more alone, even though I do have friends and a support system there.

But I also know that no matter where I am, Life will be the same, in that there will always be wonderful, exciting, joyous, smiling-so-big-it-hurts moments, and terribly embarrassingly frustrating, what-was-I-thinking moments, and plenty of mediocre ones in between. Because that's Life, no matter where you are and what you're doing, there is no perfect place. Even in paradise, shit still happens. And this is how people find beauty in simple things, everyday is sacred.

So, with a plane ticked purchased, a farewell party planned, and all my belongings for sale on craigslist, I check off one more day on the calendar: 32 days and counting.