Monte Grande school

Tuesday 3^rd October

Day Thirty-Four

6.30am and I had to make a move to get to Monte Grande and L’escuela Gabriela Mistral for my first day at the new school.

Having broken the habit of early mornings it was more difficult this time to raise my body from the bed and so I found myself rushing to get ready at 7am and only having time to scoff half a bread roll in my mouth before dashing out the house. I only had five minutes to get to the bus stop so today was not a good day to run into Claudia’s horse which was roaming the streets looking for food again (Last time it had broken into Carmen Gloria’s garden damaging the gate on its way through as confirm by the neighbours who saw it happen). Seeing it head off for the hills and Alcohuaz I decided to head him off and turn him round. This happened to be the easiest part for when I tried to make him walk with me he was having none of it. After 5 minutes I had to give up and resolved to go to Claudia’s house to get her to fetch the horse from the road before it killed itself and others. Running to catch up with the bus I jumped on at the last minute and took another five minutes to catch my breathe again, by which time we had passed Claudia’s house and her daughter Florencia had got on. I therefore had to make do with asking Florencia to call her mother when we got to school.

Arriving at 8.15 my first welcome came from a big hairy dog that looked like a St. Bernard’s throwback. Desperate for some attention he wandered around the pupils at the school, some of whom tried to kick him as they seemed scared of him. Immediately incensed having just seen another animal not being looked after responsibly I shouted at them to stop and went over to make a fuss of the dog, if only I had a place here I would take them all home. The girl looked shocked that I had intervened and thought it was my dog, if only, but they apologised nevertheless and I made sure that the dog didn’t go near them again. At 8.30 I entered the school and reluctantly left behind my new friend at the gate.

I was met by Ana, a tall, dark haired woman wearing a white lab coat, who was assigned to show me round the school. Wow! What a difference a change of school can make, admittedly the other schools are very small with 3 / 4 classrooms and two or more teachers, but I hadn’t been properly introduced before to all the teachers (I think on the first day but that was all a blur what with being chucked in at the deep end). Ana showed me the eight classrooms one for each year, and introduced me to both the professors and the children; the first class being year 8’s and included the ones that had kicked the dog earlier. On leaving I heard embarrassed laughter from the girls who I had shouted at.

In addition to larger, newer classrooms the school also had dormitories, one male one female, for the students who lived far away and therefore had to stay at the school during the week returning home on the Friday. There was also a new extension being built which was cordoned off and was known by the students as “The Cage” where they thought the naughty ones could be locked up! The classrooms were arranged in a large square at the centre of which was a large play area that then passed down some stairs and out to the front entrance housing the main office and library. When I arrived all the children were eating their breakfasts which they got free at school yoghurt, fruit and non-fizzy drink) and were no doubt healthier than the breakfasts most Europeans eat.

At 9.30 I joined Bernadita for classes with the 1^st years and I finally got to see how to teach English (mind you they can all write) and today’s lessons were to be on the four seasons where the children coloured in each picture representing a different season. This required a lot of pencil-sharpening and on seeing my pencil-sharpener in the shape of the world; various arguments broke out as to who needed it next and who wasn’t allowed to use it. (How can one small thing cause so many arguments in the classroom?) In the end I had to insist they came up to the front desk to use it and then ensued a constant stream of children on an invisible conveyer belt travelling in a circle going backwards and forwards from their desks to the pencil-sharpener and back again.

Next came the Kinder group whose ages ranged between 6 and 7yrs old and who were muy lindas! (So sweet, adorable). The lesson started with a clapping sing-song,

“hello, hello, hello, how are you? Hello, hello, I’m fine and you?” This was followed by the happy body song in which I nervously (and very self-consciously) joined in with the kids as they jumped around, clapped hands, stamped feet and nodded heads in unison to the words to the song. They liked this song so much we got to do an encore and again I was slightly frozen to the spot, my ability to dance having withered and died in my self – consciousness (how do Children’s presenters do it? I can jump out of airplanes, wear fancy-dress buy a tampax without looking embarrassed but ask me to perform and sing a children’s song? My next job after this was a welcome relief from being “on stage” as it where and I got to sit quietly sticking in their completed worksheets into their books.

Break time and I treated myself to one of the home-made rolls filled with avocado – sooo nice I am absolutely addicted to this now, avocado, mixed with lemon juice and salt (lots of in some cases) spread on a roll, add in some of the goats cheese and that is my idea of heaven. Rest over we moved onto the second years which I loved even more than the Kinder group if possible. Despite this being my first visit I still got the same welcome as at Horcon, with each and every child encircling me and showering me with hugs and welcome kisses. Hands outstretched towards me I had to bend down and give each a hug as they pushed each other out the way to welcome me, I could seriously put up with this each day as the kids were all so happy and pleased to see the teachers (what a change from some other schools. Feeling again as if I had just walked into the final scenes of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (when they had freed all the children), I allowed myself to be pulled and pushed along by the children intent on getting me to sit next to them. I wasn’t sitting for long as the lesson again started with clapping and a sing-song though this time they had to say their names in turn

ALL: “Good-morning, Good-morning, What’s your name?”

“My name is……., My name is…..”

ALL: “Hello ……, Hello………, Hello”

We went round one by one, each in turn until it was finally my turn although I remembered my name and the words, and I seemed to have suddenly developed a slight Spanish accent to my voice for no obvious reason at all!

The happy body song then made a reappearance and again I was surrounded by all the kids trying to stand next to me and watched bemused as they fought over who was holding my hand at one point I had a child hugging each of my arms so the others couldn’t get near me. I was loving this and I could just feel the smile on my face as I wondered why I wasn’t as nice as a child (I pushed someone down the slide at kindergarten as they were too scared to go and wouldn’t get off the slide)! In the end I was helped with my dancing by a little girl with the same name as me, called Carolina, who insisted on holding my hands and swinging my arms for me.

Lunch was given me and I got to eat one of the canteen meals of Lentils and I think, semolina for pudding (I didn’t try that having not liked the stuff at school years ago). This is sooo much healthier than in England and the portions of food were just right, not a single chip or fizzy-drink in sight. Over lunch I found out that most of the teachers seem to want to go on a diet, Bernaditta having got advice from her doctor, had a sensible diet that consisted of certain amounts of fruit, vegetables etc to eat each day / ach week, this was then photocopied four times for every one else in the room – except the one male teacher that sat with us.

Last lesson was with the year 8’s and was only 45mins long, half of it was writing down vocab and the other half spent out in the Plaza relaxing. Bernditta said that this was one of her least favourite classes as by now the kids were older, it was the last lesson of the day, and they didn’t want to learn. This sentiment seems to be repeated across all schools in Chile and not necessarily just amongst the older kids. I certainly don’t think my tutor would accept this attitude from me as he tells us it’s our fault if the kids are bored and don’t want to learn, you have to capture their interest. To be quite honest I agree with both sentiments as you have to capture their interest, but if they (and their parents who aren’t always educated in more rural areas) don’t see the point or use to school, it is bloody difficult to get them to do things. This is why I believe you have to also capture the parent’s interest and commitment. If the parent’s don’t use English and work on the land, why would they see a use for it?

The day done I changed into my shorts and began my hike back to Pisco. On my way back up the hill, cigarette in hand, I realised exactly how unfit I was and vowed to start walking to school as well. Along the way I was encouraged on my journey by the beeping of passing cars and the local bus and each time I managed to increase my pace until they were back out of sight again. Entering Pisco I met the familiar face of the scruffy-dog friend I had met out running the other day. Again I was joined on my travels by the dog who repeated his act of running ahead, stopping, looking back and waiting for me to catch up slightly before running on. The one thing I didn’t like about this dog was its need to run out and chase every single passing car and I was terrified I was going to see it being run over in the very near future, very probably before I got back to Carmen Gloria’s.

As it happened my prediction of doom didn’t come true and I was accompanied all the way up the hill to the house, where I felt it necessary to get some food to give to the dog for his company and scurried back and forth to the kitchen to grab some bread. Leaving the dog at the gate (again if only I could take them all home) I tried not to look back as his longing face and his wagging tail knowing he wanted more company. Forty-five minutes after leaving Monte Grande I was back home, slightly sweaty and feeling pleased with myself that I had finally done some exercise and would now be going twice weekly to the school (might even ask to work Monday or Wednesday pm as well). This was a definite improvement in terms of both help and resources available (Karla having to move from one school to the next and not being in my lessons at the rural schools) and I felt that I could finally get round to making proper resources and planning more effective lessons, the only downside being the dial-up internet connection which was incredibly slow (30minutes to check 3 new messages on AOL)How on earth did we ever cope without broad-band and how could anyone of my friends have spend so much time in Chat rooms or surfing the net in the early days of the internet? I’d have left the computer to rot by then and gone to find other entertainment, watching paint dry for instance or doing my homework.

The internet might have been slow but the wait for David to arrive at the house at 7pm (as per Claudia’s message via the school) was a much longer one and one that I finally abandoned at 10.30pm.