September's Anecdotes

There’s no such thing as “prepared”

   At the beginning of the month, I obtained my foreigner’s ID card, making it possible for me to be legally employed!  Nearly immediately, I received an email detailing a time to teach a mock English (as a foreign language) lesson at Señor de Sipán University.  It was a Tuesday morning.  Wednesday night, I received a text message that I would be teaching two classes the following day: the first to begin at 7:30 am.  Not that we’re ever completely prepared for what life throws at us, but sometimes we’re more prepared than others.  I accepted the job, thought about a few activities (still not knowing what level my students’ English was at nor how many of them there would be), and went to bed.  The next day, I taught students with an extremely low level of English and later got the books.  Of a class of 29, only 6 were there the first day. 

A sound I’d never heard before

One night, I was up later than I wanted to be, preparing classes, helping Igor find his misplaced surgical uniform, finishing cooking our lunch for the following day,  and other such minor but time consuming mundane tasks.  I went to bed around midnight and heard singing outside, the faint sound of a choir.  I soon learned from Igor, a light sleeper, that it is a religious sect whose house of worship is located several blocks away that sings from midnight until 5 am every Saturday and Sunday night.  I’d never noticed, but he assured me, he had (many times).

Then the lights went out

I live in a desert.  It never rains.  Well, never say never.  Ok, so, almost never.  One day last week, we decided to wash the bedspread that had collected the city’s dust for a few months.  Since we didn’t get it done until late afternoon, we decided to hang it on our makeshift clothesline on the roof to dry overnight.  Of course, that night it rained.  It rained so hard that the streets flooded with more than six inches of water in them.  It rained in through the windows, washing some of the icky, smelly fish oil putty we’d put on them to keep the glass from falling out, onto the floor.  It rained in through tiny fissures in cement roof and came pouring through our ceiling where the light fixtures are attached.  It rained and rained.  In the morning there was no electricity.  It didn’t return in the afternoon or evening.  It didn’t come back the following morning either.  After numerous phone calls to an electrical company, after having a neighbor (who’s an electrician) dangerously (and irresponsibly) lay a ladder from the top of our roof across the chasm of nothingness to the lightpole and letting the other end rest on the cables as he inched out to see what was wrong, the company sent a few workers to repair the cable that had been destroyed by too much water.  Finally, we were able to use our computers again to study and prepare work for the university.  Let there be light!

Follow the Rules and We’ll Get along Fine

That’s what I said before the exam, but true to the corrupt, chaotic, relaxed ways of this land, we were soon to have an issue arise.  Cheating is a given and I was already prepared to let little things slide.  It not, I wouldn’t have a job.  Most students, if only to save face or feel less guilty, will hide their cheat sheet or make their eyes return to their own exam when the teacher is near.  For this particular exam, I had two students who seemed to lack a few neurons.  Despite a few very clear verbal warnings (in Spanish, mind you) and my presence they not only used a cheat sheet, looked at others’ tests, but also conversed in low tones about the possible answers.  Not wanting to raise the issue during the exam and distract others, I asked Carlos and Karin to stay after class.  I told them what I’d witnessed and asked their input about what would be a just punishment.  After a few moments of silence, I got the typical, “But other people were copying too!” argument.  That was irrelevant to me.  Without any apology or promise to not do it again, I heard their excuses they left.  “I didn’t know the answers, so I just had to check with someone else,”  and probably one of the most absurd excuses I’ve heard, “It’s not fair Miss.  I’m pregnant, so I had to cheat.”  Some things never cease to amaze me!

Everyone was staring at me

With a three-piece navy blue suit, a pastel pink blouse, black heels, a leather bag, papers in my hand and sunglasses atop my head, I dashed out the door to teach.  First I had class with some young children (ages 4-7) and then class at the university.  I waited impatiently for the menagerie of traffic to pass so I could cross the Pan-American Highway to take public transportation to work.  I hailed a Combi, and wriggled my way through the people and took a seat towards the front, facing all the other passengers, while packed like sardines in a crushed tin box.  Everyone stared.  Perhaps it was because I wriggled my way into a seat at the front rather than thrusting my way past other passengers to the already crowded backseat, to which the cobrador (money collector) had directed me with the infamous phrase Al fondo hay sitio (there’s room in the back).  Or perhaps they stared at me because of the large bag I had full of toys and games for children and books for the university and the roll of papers in my hand and wondered what I was doing there or what was in the bag.  But more than likely, everyone was staring at me for the same reason as every other day: There’s a “blonde” girl in public transportation rather than a taxi.  She pays in coins like everyone else rather than in large bills.  Like many of us, she’s dressed in a suit and headed to work.  Is she really Peruvian?