With Fresh Eyes

On April 30, I reached the landmark, “One Year in Country.” It was surreal to think that an entire year had passed here, and I began to vividly recall my first days in Guatemala, and how uncertain and alone I had felt. Even stranger was learning of the arrival of the next group for our program. We´re no longer “the New Kids” in Youth Development. Now there was another group of 15 at the training center, receiving the same classes we had, faced with the same uncertainties, nervous about the site they´d be placed in.

Then the decision was made that they would be coming to my department for Field Based Training (when the trainees go for a week to another part of the country to experience the work they´d be doing “in the field”) , and me and the three other volunteers that live here would be leading them through it.

We decided to put on a training for teachers from all over the department in the cabecera (departmental capital) for one of the days they would be here, and that was the first time I met the new “New Kids.” Me and the two other volunteers that had organized the training were a nervous wreck. It was quite an undertaking. We had taken information from a book about teaching methods (in English), translated it to Spanish and tried to create activities around it to make for an interesting training. Eighty teachers would be coming. And the training itself would consist of attempting to impart a lot of complicated information about learning objectives, use of class-time and giving effective tests. The three of us were certain we would get flustered and lost in the material and unable to explain it well.

The trainees were surely also nervous, because they would be leading some of the activities as well, but seemed to contain it well. We all sat down for lunch together, and me and my two coworkers attempted to read through our facilitator notes, as well as answer many questions about what it´s like to be a volunteer and get to know everyone, while scarfing down lunch. Too soon it was time to go and set up.

The teachers shocked us by arriving on time (10-30 minutes late is the norm). I was in charge of one room of forty teachers, with some of the trainees to lead their activities, and the two other volunteers took the other room with the other half of teachers and trainees. Unexpectedly, as soon as I got into the flow of what I was saying, I didn´t have any problem getting through the considerable content. There were no flustered moments of fumbling through explanations and losing my place, just occasional pauses to check the notes. The teachers seemed interested and asked many questions and participated. The trainees led the wrap-up activity (the “learning cycle”) and the three hour training was quickly over.

I felt good about it, but what made my ego really swell was the over-the-top praise from the trainees. They loved the way I explained things, they couldn´t believe my Spanish, they thought I had great methods for encouraging participation, they loved the content of the training. I am sure the other two volunteers got similar praise, and I tried to explain over and over that this is what happens eventually after spending a year living and working in a Guatemalan community-- you learn how to explain things in a Guatemalan fashion, you learn the tricks to get participation, you learn the local language. You know instinctively what will be understood and what will not. I assured them all they would get there, and I have no doubt they will. All the same, seeing it through their eyes also helped me really understand and appreciate how far I´ve come. I vividly recalled my first lessons and the teacher workshop we were made to do during training. My voice was shaky, my hands trembling, I would get visibly flustered and blush when I was unable to find the right words to explain. It felt good to see the progress I´ve made, that I can now stand before 40 unknown teachers from rural Guatemala and explain teaching strategies without missing a beat.

Two days later, Thursday, the trainees were scheduled to come to my site. The teacher training took place on Tuesday, and the following day I experienced a frustrating afternoon in my big institute, one of those inevitable days when you begin to doubt the worth of what you are doing and the possibility of any real change.

That afternoon I had planned to give a part of the same training to my own teachers in my big institute. The training went well in the sense that I felt I delivered it well, but the contrast in how the teachers reacted was, in my mind, significant. No one asked a question, there were no comments. The teachers participated well in the activity where they had to practice writing learning objectives, but then were reluctant to come up to present. At the end, even the comments of thanks for giving the training were a little discouraging. One teacher, someone that always manages to somehow anger me to the core, told me in a very patronizing tone (that he always uses with me), “These ideas are all very nice and interesting, but the thing that we lack is TIME. To really implement all of these strategies, we would need more TIME. And there is no TIME. When we would do all of this?” My blood boiled. No TIME to write learning objectives? No TIME to plan effective tests and assignments? The training was about how to do things that you already (presumably) do more effectively, such as write objectives, give assignments and give tests. His complaint of lack of time was as good as a confession that he was one of those many teachers that stroll into the classroom and flip open the text book to try to kill the period. I didn´t trust myself to respond diplomatically, so I said nothing. Overall, the feeling I got from the teachers was a mild interest and a general recognition that yes, ideally those methods should be used, but no real intention to use them or make any changes.

Then, after the director spoke a while about other matters, I brought up the point of the garden I have been planning with the girls´ group since December. I had been given the back-and-forth for a while now from the director about the plans for it. The girls and I had already presented our vision to the teachers and they had expressed their approval and encouragement. This time I just wanted to get the go-ahead from the teachers about the design the girls had come up with. They want a square in the center of the school´s courtyard. The teachers immediately began to protest. They were worried about the lack of space, even when I assured them I had measured the space. The director and others began to suggest other designs, even when I said I hoped to honor the girls´ vision as much as possible. The same patronizing teacher said, “I understand what you´re trying to do with the girls, with this garden, and it is all very nice. But the thing we don´t have is SPACE. There is no SPACE. What about the MOTORCYCLES? What about the BICYCLES? There is no SPACE! We might have to reject the garden because there is no SPACE!” Then I did get a little angry. “We considered the bicycles and motorcycles. It´s not like we didn´t think of that, and we measured the space.” Some other teachers, probably recognizing that things were getting a bit heated, hurriedly suggested we go look at the courtyard. Standing in the middle of it, the director and teachers agreed, “Oh yes, a square shape in the middle will work fine, just make the measurements a little smaller.” I was relieved, but still a little angry that the garden had come to close to being taken away from us. Also, in the same meeting it was announced that the next two weeks of class would be canceled because of the pig virus and the mid-year vacations (which no one told me about). I was extremely frustrated to hear that such a big chunk of teaching time I was counting on just got chopped off. And what would I do for the next two weeks? (Can´t go anywhere without taking vacation time that I don´t have.)

After such a frustrating and discouraging afternoon, I wondered how on earth I would be positive and encouraging to a group of 15 trainees that would be looking to me to learn about what it´s really like to be a volunteer. Nonetheless, I spent my morning frantically cleaning my apartment and made coffee cake and tried to do everything to make a good impression. When they arrived, it was a bit bizarre even for me, to see so many Americans gathered together in my rural, Indigenous hometown (I´ve been here so long I´ve stopped seeing myself as much of an outsider, just another piece of the town´s fabric). So I can´t imagine what the townspeople must have felt. It was a gorgeous sunny afternoon and we gathered in the town square where I spoke a bit about work with a big institute and some of the girls from my group came by and shyly answered questions about the camp and the garden project. Then we all headed to the institute.

I split them up into the various classrooms, where they were to lead their first activity with Guatemalan youth. I could see that many of them looked nervous, which was also funny to me now that this is something I do every day (although I know I was equally nervous for my first lesson). I paired up with one the trainees, who is fluent in Spanish and also was a teacher in the US, so it was a real pleasure working with her. And the activity was fun and entertaining. When we regrouped, all the volunteers were smiling and seemed pleased by how it went. We headed over to my house where everyone was impressed by my king-sized bed and great views of the village and mountains and spent some time just chatting. Everyone kept commenting on the beauty of my site and how great my living situation is. Of course, they still haven´t seen much to compare it to, but all the same, I took great pleasure in seeing my site the way did, as well as my service. “It´s a good life,” I heard myself saying a few times, and it made me more aware of how true that is, despite of all the challenges. It is a good life.