Saturday, May 9, 2015

Vignettes from My First Weeks on the Job


I stand, swaying in the back of a pick-up, as we swerve around hairpin mountain turns.  It’s chilly this early in the mornings, and the wind blows my hair in my face.  The view of the volcanoes and the lake on this road is spectacular.  My fellow passengers, mostly indigenous Mayan wearing their traditional clothing, seem un-phased by the view.  I wonder how long until it’s just common place to me as well, and appreciating the beauty takes conscious effort. I’ve done this trip several times now, headed to meetings and school observations, and workshops, so now I recognize where I need to get off.  I knock on the window and the driver pulls to a halt.  Climbing off the back, I reach through his window and pay him 3 quetzales (about 45 cents) and then cross the road to the building where our meeting is held.
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The room is crowded with 30 teachers, all sitting on small student chairs, hunched over low tables.  There’s a buzz in the air, as they all work intently on their news articles.  Two of our facilitators are leading a workshop on teaching writing in the elementary classroom, and now teachers are practicing a technique they’ll be encouraged to use in the classroom.  As they finish their articles, they step to the front of the room.  Someone grabs a box that was sitting on a table and uses it as a fake video camera. “Lights, camera, action” we all shout and the first reporter steps up. “And now, from Naranjo school, a recent classroom soccer championship was held. . . this is María reporting live for Gossip News.”
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Small children giggle as they look at me.  They’re probably not too used to seeing foreigners this far off the beaten track.  It took me two hours to get here this morning, first a bus, then a mini-van, then a pick-up, all forms of public transportation here in Guatemala.  Their teacher launches into the lesson she’s prepared based on one of our workshops she’s attended.  After reading aloud to the students, they are broken into small groups to create their own version of the story.  “Take a picture of ours!” one group begs me, as they carefully add in illustrations to go with their story.  The facilitator who’s in charge of follow ups with the school takes notes to go over with the teacher at the end of class.  After some general observations, recommendations, and praise for a job well done, we head off to the next classroom where another teacher is ready for his follow-up.

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The staff sit around the table discussing plans for the next workshop.  They’re in disagreement about which order they should present two of the points on the agenda, and the opposing sides are giving their pedagogical reasoning.  I’m enjoying the opportunity to see them think aloud and reach consensus.  I’m still sitting back, observing, taking notes, assimilating myself to my new work culture before I stick in my oar, as it were, but I smile to myself as they finally decide on the order I would have recommended, if I’d made a recommendation. 

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