Back to School

I'm sorry I haven't written but, I have new friends. I've been in Santiago for the past week for teaching orientation, staying in a big hostel and pretending I'm a freshman in college. I've been drinking far too much, staying up late playing cards and eating, as usual, way too much bread. Even if my body hates me, I still just so terribly happy. I've got a new group of friends who are all Americans except for one lovely Brit named Kate and I honestly cannot remember the last time I laughed this much. In one short week I have made friendships with some people that I truly hope are a part of my life til the end. I've been part of an obnoxious-sized jogging line of health-conscious volunteers, sprinting through the streets of smoggy Santiago to the sound of catcalls of laughs, and I have been to a high school in Santiago and helped teach an English class full of girls who whispered and giggled to each other no matter what I said.

¨How old are you?¨I asked.
¨Maritza¨one answered after a long blank stare.

Unexpectedly, I have gone back in time and landed right back in college -- if only for a week.
I graduated two months ago and I am somehow back in the impractical, cramped, wooden desks (you remember, the ones where the desk is already attached to the chair for who-knows-what reason), working in pairs and preparing for presentations before my peers. It is a bit ironic. Basically, we are cramming -- in an orderly fashion. Out of 85 or so of us, I believe about five people have taught before and almost noone is ESL certified. We are in many ways unprepared (some TEFL courses take about two months), but we have many things working for us: we are young (98% of us), we are energetic and we speak English ... fluently. However, many of us are also petrified. My mother informed me yesterday that a new teacher has between 10 to 30 seconds before a class to make a positive impression. I am likeable (I tell myself). I love children. I relate well to others. I really hope the teenagers I will be teaching don't realize that I am only six years older than them.

This is going to be very very tough. Tomorrow I leave at 9 a.m. for a 10-hour bus ride to the small north region of the country. I am going to Vallenar in the Atacama desert. I may be teaching my first class of high schoolers early Monday morning. I am so very nervous. What if they don't like me? What if I freeze and can't keep the class going for 90 minutes? What if my host family judges me because I don't go to church. What if the nearest post office is two-hours away? The unknown has always given me heartburn... not to mention digestive problems. I don't want to leave my new friends, but if I stay here and keep drinking at this rate, I may be dead in a month's time.

This week, stuffed in my miniature desk and acting as a willing participant in a volunteer´s lesson plan I was suddenly touched and inspired. A boy was standing before us, nervous and stammering -- speaking deathly slow (as we have been instructed) -- and drawing pictures of food items on the board and I was suddenly so very proud of him, and of myself and of every person in the room. No, we don´t know what we are doing, and yes, we will inevitably make fools of ourselves at some point, however, we are here. We are trying. I sit beside all my new and amazing friends who know not one single word of Spanish as they stumble through an exercise and I am so proud of them. I have the edge of knowing the language. But, regardless, we have all made ourselves willing participants and sitting ducks for the Chilean Ministry of Education. We want to travel, we want to live abroad, we want to learn Spanish, we continuously hear the call of volunteering. Everyone´s reason is different, but it doesn´t change that we have chosen to allow the U.N. to place us in whatever small city, in whatever small school for four months, and without any teaching experience.
I am so excited to begin the newest phase of my life. I can't wait to learn even more about myself and meet the newest people who are going to shape my experiences for the next four months. But I'm still scared. I don't want to leave my latest roommate Bree and start all over, again. But I should know by now, the best is yet to come.