Back to School

Work in my official Peace Corps post as been slim lately, and as a result I’ve had to get creative with finding things to fill my time. The mom and dad of the family I live with are both teachers and immediately accepted my offer for help- Lily invited me to start teaching bi-weekly classes to her high school class. At the same time another friend also invited me to do the same in the high school where she works in a nearby village. The following are a few pictures of those classes:

A Walk in the Woods

Every other week I teach life skills classes in two different high schools. One is the “urban” school (the term being used loosely as there are only 2,000 residents of the town center) and the other is a small extension high school in one of the villages of the municipality. I dread going to the village school, not because of the students or the teacher, they are attentive and respectful, but because of the walk- it’s isolated and awash with stray dogs that never fail to send me searching for a rock to keep them at bay.

The walk to the school is generally uneventful; the only real challenges are the giant hills and abusive sun on my pale gringa skin. However, the school is in the afternoon to accommodate the students´ farming and household duties, which means that I finish my lesson and begin my journey home no earlier than 3pm. By this time most people are in their houses resting, making the walk in the fading sun lonely.

Yesterday was my day to go to Mapá, the village school, and as usual I was anxious as I finished up my lesson and began my descent back to town. Thirty minutes into my trek, as I approached the first cluster of houses since I left the school, was invited to sit and rest. I pass this house frequently and in my head I refer to it as “the nudist colony” because there is always a gaggle of bathing children out front. Today the women of the house were making small pottery animals to sell on market day. I sat for a spell, practicing Mam (the local Mayan language) and learning all about paints made from local materials, and then continued on my way. A mile or so I was met in the road by a young woman with her 2 year old daughter who immediately greeted me and invited me to stop and eat a banana with them- which I accepted, thankful for something to put in my growling stomach. Soon we continued together down the road, her daughter chattering away at me in Mam. Magdalia, as I learned she was named, was on her way to visit a sick relative, and when we arrived there she arranged for her family members to give me a ride back to my house, more than 5 miles away. I arrived home exhausted but early, smiling and thankful for such wonderful neighbors.

Lightless

It's 9:30p.m. on a Sunday night and save for the odd cricket, my town is silent. Even the street dogs seem to have been lulled to sleep by the darkness and lack of activity. The usual scene on a Sunday night is something akin to a carnival- neighbors, music, taco stands and burning trash piles. Tonight, it's more like sleeping. A country wide electrical outage is the culprit. The peace is unusual and I'm soaking it in. Who knows how long it will last. My laptop has power and my satellite internet modem continues to function, so I'm bathed in the blue glow of my computer screen while my neighbors sit at their kitchen tables surrounded by the soft yellow light of candles.

I hear some dogs beginning to bark again. And the lights are back.