Padrino- The New Godfather

Something really great happened recently. My buddy, Jeff (36, Canadian) broke up with his girlfriend. It was truly a blessing. I was getting pretty desperate for a "wingman" amidst all of the women working here. All the guys at this school are either married or have girlfriends, which makes it tough for me to go out and meet "Paisas" (Colombian women), unless I want to go out and look like a loser or go out with a bunch of girls who absolutely ruin any chance I might have had.

So, after another incredible happy hour of martinis, buffalo wings, and nachos, we go home and get spruced up for hopefully, a successful night on the town. I get back at about 8PM, we meet up and have some rum (Ron Medellin is the local rum and it's good by itself and of course, cheap) and then head out onto the town. It's absolutely dead. We wander around town, go into every discotec, and can't find even one place that looks like it's got promise. We end up having a couple drinks and call it a night. However, we swear that Saturday will be different and make a pledge to ourselves that things will be better.

The next morning, Jeff calls me and says we should go to Ovellido, which is a huge mall. It's a good idea because I had been wanting to shop for some new clothes. We get there, wander around a bit, and I stumble upon the greatest clothing store I've ever been to in my life. I probably spent an hour and a half in there and tried on half of the clothes in the store. I literally had employees running around the store bringing me more clothes to try on. It was an absolute spectacle. I left with three new pairs of pants, four awesome long sleeve shirts, a sweater, and new shoes, all for less than 200 bucks. The whole point of this shopping day was that he and I both wanted to be "dressed to kill" for our night on the town.

Later that evening, three girls from the school, who live in an absolute mansion of an apartment, hosted the annual back to school bash. Jeff and I decided that we'd show up early and tell people we had to leave because we had dates. We stayed there for about an hour, and quickly snuck out the door. We jumped into a taxi and headed out to Sabaneta, which is a town that's maybe 15 minutes outside of Medellin. There, we would meet more down to earth girls and maybe even be a novelty item. In Poblado, where we live, people have money and lots of them have traveled to the US and other European countries, so we're nothing special. We get to this club called "Pueblo" and it is absolutely "going off." We walk in and order a bottle of, you guessed it, Ron Medellin and Jeff finds us a table near the bathroom. His strategy is that all the girls will have to walk by the bathroom at some point, to which I replied, yes that was true, but they weren't going to want to stop and talk. I also felt that his whole theory was somewhat trashy and that we needed to head into the action. I found a table with four very eligible looking Paisas, and we made our move. I met, and danced with Adrianna all night, and let's just say that this has real potential...

The next day, I headed into the barrio with my co-worker Allison and Dan Locket, a 55 year old teacher who has been here for 18 years, and who works extensively with streetkids and poor families. He wanted to introduce me to some kids in the hopes that I'd find one that I'd like to sponsor. The barrio is absolutely out of control. It is total chaos and the people there are poorer than poor. We met up with a family he has worked with for years, and picked up his 1 year old adopted son, who he basically saved from being aborted. Long story. Anyway, we slammed a few people into the car and did a little taxi service. He asked me if I wanted to meet some more kids, and of course I did. He pulled up to a house and told me that we were about to meet some of the greatest kids I'd ever meet and that when they came outside, we should open the doors because they'd all want to jump in and give us love. They came charging out, and sure enough, we open the car doors and they are all over us. They were so sweet and obviously, very happy to meet us. He introduced us to their mother, who has had 14 kids. The kids who jumped in were four girls, age 7 to 12. It was great, because I could actually speak with, and understand to some extent, what they were saying. We were going to take them up to Dan's farm so they could interact with the animals. We're about to leave, but before we do, the mother, Patricia, wants to know when I'll be back, which I thought was really touching. I know...this story is starting to go soft...but it gets worse. We're about to leave, when this boy, Isaiah, who is 9 years old, jumps into the car. It turns out that he's the only son, living with all of these sisters. This is the happiest looking kid of the bunch, and he instantly takes to me. I'm thinking that this could be the kid that I "adopt", and then Dan seals the deal. This kid goes out and begs everyday, and about a year ago, he was abducted and, let's just say, seriously abused by some drug crazed guy. He was hospitalized and obviously doesn't trust men much, but Dan took him under his wing and helped him recover. Dan tells me that he's never seen Isaiah take to somebody the way he did to me, and that's when I tell him that this is the kid I want to work with. When he asked Isaiah if he wanted me as his "Padrino" he lit up. I told Dan that I was going to spoil this kid to death. In fact, that's what I immediately did. I told Dan to take us to an ice cream shop, and I bought all of the kids sundaes. What was so neat about Isaiah, was that he wanted to make sure that all of his sisters got theirs first. When he had had enough of his sundae, he ran off to go find one of his friends on the street to share with. When we got into the car, he tried to put on all of our seatbelts. He was just so caring. I looked down and noticed that he didn't have any shoes. I asked him if he owned any, and he said he didn't. I told Dan that we needed to go buy him shoes right then. Allison bought shoes for one girl, Dan the other, and I bought Isaiah his. You've never seen kids more excited in your life. From there, we leave and drive by a carnival and the kids go ballistic. Dan asks them if they'd rather go there than to the farm and of course they do. We get into the place and jump on a few rides. They were all pretty tame, so I asked Isaiah if he wanted to go on this roller coaster type loop ride where you go around and around, upside down. He didn't want to at first, but with a little coaxing, he says he will. Now, usually I'm good with roller coasters, but I can tell right away that this is going to be bad. We do about 10 loops, and I'm ready for it to be over. I look over, and he's not having fun either, but of course, the ride is far from over. I'm thinking I'm going to puke any minute, as I had just slammed a piece of pizza minutes prior. The ride finally ends and I almost puke getting off the ride. The operator finds this amusing; I don't.

Here's the kicker. I get off the ride and get a call from Jeff, who reminds me that we have a date in an hour. I have no idea what he's talking about. He says, "Don't you remember calling the girls last night to go to a movie?" Of course not. I tell him that I'm super nauseous and that there's no way in hell that I'm going to be able to socialize, but I'll try. We head out and take the kids home, and I'm feeling sicker than ever. In fact, I wanted to die. I got home, called him, and told him that I needed to lay down for a few minutes. I asked him to tell Adrianna what had happened. Then, I fell asleep. I woke up an hour later and tried calling him back. He told me that she wasn't upset at all. I got on the phone with her and tried my best Spanish to tell her what had happened and to apologize profusely. She was totally fine with it, and it was made better by the fact that I'm taking her to dinner on Wednesday. I'll update everyone later with regard to how that goes.

OK, I seriously have to get to work. I start my Monday mornings with about 2 hours of prep, but end up using it all to rant on this stupid blog. I think I'd better do something productive. I hope everyone's doing well. Talk at you later.

Ben

An Unexpected Adventure

It started innocently. After school, I wanted to see if I could somehow get a prescription from a local doctor. I didn't know quite what to do, so I took the advice from a co-worker that maybe I should hit the local pharmacy and ask for their advice, so down I went. I spoke probably my best spanish ever and found out that I could take a taxi down to the "Clinica Medellin" where I could meet with a doctor. It would be a simple process I was told.

I get there and ask the receptionist if there is a general doctor there and she says, "No." So, not to be deterred, I head up the elevator to find my own doctor. The building is made up of lots of small offices, with specialists in each. I stop into one of them and ask if I can get a prescription. Well, let's just say that once you begin speaking Spanish, they obviously reply in Spanish, and that's generally when I get lost. So, I talk to several people who all want to help me but don't quite know how. Nobody around, at this time anyway, speaks English, but they put me on the phone with someone who supposedly does. She doesn't. What she does is just speak a little bit slower, which I have some success with. She tells me that she's doing to take down my number and have someone call me who again, supposedly speaks English. I get in the cab, take the call, and get a number that doesn't work. Now, I'm right back where I started.

I go back to the pharmacy and tell the woman about my unsuccessful trip. She tells me that there's a doctor down the street, and I'm thinking that there are no buildings that look, even remotely, like they'd house a doctor. So, I go down there and ask the woman behind the counter if Sergio is around and if he is in fact even a real doctor. She tells me that he'll be there in 30 minutes. In the meantime, I go have my weekly haircut that costs about 5 bucks, and a great steak dinner that costs about 3 dollars. I go back to try to meet with him, and I'm told to go upstairs. This is a totally crappy building, and I'm feeling very skeptical, but I knock on the door and begin in Spanish, and for once in my life down here, someone actually speaks English! I rejoice. He tells me to have a seat and wait for him. I am immediately bombarded by 4 scruffy Colombian boys who are talking to me a mile a minute. I play along, as I can understand some of what they're saying, but not much. Then another guy walks in who speaks some English and I ask him what they're saying, especially the fat kid who's all up in my face repeating something. The guy tells me that this kid's calling me a "fat boy." I look at the kid and say, "Tu eres el nino gordo!", which basically means, "You're the fat kid!" He calls me it again, and I stand up over him and say, "Quieres eso?", which is something like, "You want some of this?" Everyone starts laughing, including what is now quite a crowd of kids and women all enjoying the show. The kids run away, but then come back and start saying something about "fuerte" or "libros" which I'm thinking is something like "strong" or "pounds", so I'm thinking that they think I'm totally buffed, and I play along. So, now they all want to feel my muscles, so I give them my best flex and they go crazy. I have kids and moms all feeling my so-called muscles. Then, I think they might like to see the crazy American's tattoo. They totally flip out! But it gets better. I grab this kid, the fat one, and pick him up against the wall, similar to the way I would manhandle kids on my annual Halloween extravaganza, and yell in his face. The crowd goes crazy.

The doctor finally meets with me, and tells me that he'd be happy to fill my prescription, but that he needs to meet with the poor people who are waiting. When I say poor, I mean no money poor. It turns out that he works for the government and comes down to this office 3 days a week. Now I feel bad that the rich American is making poor Colombians, who probably have legitimate medical needs, wait so I tell him not to worry about it. He tells me that it's OK, but that he needs to run home to get his prescription pad. I ask him not to, and that I'll come back later, but he insists. Then he goes on to tell me that he needs to hurry because he has to go to dinner with some Swiss doctors. I tell him that it's seriously not a big deal, but he continues to insist on doing this for me and tells me to wait for him. So, while I'm waiting, the kids are across the way in this totally run-down library. I go in there and do math problems and play games with them, and that's when it totally hits me: I love working with the poor kids.

This school is fantastic. The kids are fun, and the staff is great (although composed entirely of Estrogen), but the kids here don't really "need" me. They'd be fine either way. The poor kids in this library were saying, "Enseneme!", which means, "Teach me!", which is something I definitely don't hear a lot around here. I could be giving the greatest lesson I've ever come up with, and some may even enjoy it, but nobody really appreciates it the way the poor kids do. The kids here already know that they'll be successful regardless, so it doesn't really matter that much to them. I shouldn't speak in generalizations, but these kids, for the most part, can be really lazy.

In the end, this doctor comes running back, sweating in his suit and late for his dinner, with my prescription in hand. What a guy. Tell me one doctor in the states who'd do that for you. I make a nice donation to his office and he tells me that he'd love for me to come around whenever I want and he'd love to have dinner or a drink to practice his English. This is very much a Colombian thing to do. Everyone you meet wants to have dinner with you, but I think it's just something they say. Who knows? Maybe I'll stop back in to say hi, or maybe to show off some "Rock" wrestling moves.

I have a cell phone!

Finally! My cell phone will be with me at all times, and the great news, for me anyway, is that I don't have to use any of my minutes when receiving calls.

The number is

011(to call outside US)57(Colombia code)3136276403

Again:

011573136276403

I'm pretty sure that's how it works. I guess I'll find out when someone calls it. If I don't get a call, I'll figure out what went wrong and give it out again.

My Class - Crazy

My Class

Medellin from the balcony

This is a picture from my balcony, using the "nightscene" setting

The entire city

Doesn't do it justice, but a picture of the entire city

A Valley

A picture of one of the many valleys

Waterfall

A picture from our hike to the waterfall

New Hire Staff

This is the new-hire staff having sushi in Miami

My REAL first day

So, it was inaccurate of me to discuss my first day with the kids as we really didn't do anything seriously academic the entire first week. Today is Wednesday, and now the pressure is starting to set in. For those who aren't teachers, it's difficult to imagine the shift between not only grade levels, but to ESL kids, and a whole new curriculum. I feel like a first-year teacher all over again, which is mildly stress-inducing. Did I say mildly? Scratch that, I'm a total head-case right now.

The kids are still good, but I have to regularly "put the smack down" to keep them from talking through just about everything. People defend the kids saying, "It's just part of their culture", but I think it's BS. I have had a number of "serious" talks with various students, which I'm sure were highly exaggerated by the time they got home.

My feelings were confirmed yesterday at Open House, which I wasn't really worried about until I saw the Colombian parents file in. Talk about an intimidating crowd. There were directors, doctors, company owners, and BEAUTIFUL, totally made-up moms and they were all looking at me like, "What's this jackass got to say?" I started in fine, but then my nerves set in a little. I didn't really fumble, but it was then that the altitude started setting in as I couldn't quite catch my breath. I had them do a little interviewing activity where they were supposed to ask questions, uninterrupted for a minute, and then switch off and answer them, also uninterrupted. They, like their kids, didn't follow the instructions very well, but was I going to write the opthamologist's name on the board? I think not.

I started telling them about myself, my educational background, my travel experience, and past years of teaching. I hyped up the TCK experience as to make sure that they realized I had the proper credentials to teach their kids. I knew that the kids probably went home the first week and told them that I was kind of strict, but that we played lots of really fun games. This week has been decidedly more academic, and I have taken the strictness up a notch. So when I went to talk about our discipline policies, I had to briefly justify myself. I told them that I was worried that their kids have probably been coming home telling them how strict, mean, asshole-ish, etc. I have been and I saw a couple of parents nodding, especially the mother of a squirrely little kid I've been hammering. I discussed the fact that it's very important to set the stage, as it's easier to back off later than to start off as a push-over. I asked them to trust me and reassured them that I do know what I'm doing. It turned into quite the sale.

I then began discussing my use of timed multiplication tests and showed them the kids who had already passed and had their papers up in the back of the room, when this guy jumped in and began questioning my philosophy. I was a little surprised at his comments, but was ready for him. I told him that I was so glad he asked, and proceeded to explain the story of Corey Knox, the kid in last year's class who nobody thought would ever pass a thing. I busted out the whole idea of "goal attainment" and talked about how the class would rally together to make sure that EVERY kid passed this test and that I was teaching the conceptual math that their kids have probably never had. I further added, now in my teaching "zone" that if every kid didn't pass this test by the end of the year (probably sometime next week, in reality) that he could ask for my resignation and I'd willingly leave the school. Then I got cocky, and told him and the other parents, "Not only do I talk the talk, but I'll walk the walk. Just wait and see." That was it. A big smile came across his face, and I could see that the parents were convinced. Shit, if not them, I at least convinced myself. Parents came over and talked to me, a couple of hot moms kissed me on the cheek, and I was one happy "import teacher."

Other than school, life has been pretty dull. Last weekend, we went to a real part of Medellin to a totally cruddy "bar" which consisted of bottles of rum on the shelves. We danced until about 2AM and got home about an hour later. Let's just say I didn't feel great the next day. Yesterday, I got Direct TV, which is really exciting and watched my first episode of The Simpsons in nearly a month. This weekend is a 3 day, but we're all scrambling to figure out something to do. I'm fairly resigned to just stay here in town. I honestly thought when I came down here that I would be traveling all over the place, but that's just not the case. I don't think I'll do anything really extravagant until Thanksgiving or Christmas time. I may go to Bogota in October, but other than that, it will probably just be little outings here and there. Another piece of exciting news is that my maid was supposed to start today. I'm praying that I go home to clean clothes, otherwise I'll be ironing stuff off the floor.

Well, gotta run. We have a staff meeting in about 15 minutes. I'm sure it'll be a thriller.

Take care, and call me sometime when you get a chance. I love the phone calls!

Ben

My First Day

I guess kids are kids, as these ones really weren't that much different from what you see in the states. I don't know exactly what I was expecting, but the kids were pretty fair-skinned, spoke pretty decent English, and were very excited to be at school. They are very high-energy, which can be a good thing, but I did have to squash it a couple of times.

We started out the morning with procedures and expectations. They took to them pretty well. When I told them of my past reputation at TCK, a couple of them looked horrified. I even showed them what it sounds like when I raise my voice. Even when I was done, and had told them I was just kidding, a few still looked like they were in a mild state of shock.

From there, we played some "getting to know you" games. They were funny. Their English is quirky, and they say things that remind me of what an idiot I must sound like every time I try to initiate a conversation with a taxi driver.

They went to lunch from there, and you wouldn't believe what they eat. The difference between our cafeteria food and theirs is absolutely amazing. For example, they might have chicken and rice soup, a salad, a main plate with carne asada, potatoes, and rice, a dessert, and a glass of some sort of exotic juice. All of this for about 2 bucks. Crazy.

When they got back, they had Spanish class. On a sidenote, I only actually teach them 17 hours a week. They have more pull-outs than you could possibly believe. For example, on Monday morning, I have them from 7:45-7:50, then don't see them again until 10:30. Later that same day, they will have Spanish class for an hour and ten minutes, which brings me to a grand total of something like 2.5 hours for the day. Anyway, back to Spanish class. These kids are notorious for chatting with one another, and when their first-year Spanish teacher came in, it was like blood in the water. I sat there in amazement, and I have to admit, slight anger, for the entire class, all the while waiting for her to leave. When she did, I told them we needed to have a serious chat. I asked them to picture what the last hour looked like, sounded like, and felt like, and then asked them whether it was appropriate or inappropriate behavior. They knew they were wrong. I told them that if they wanted to act like that, then they should be prepared to get consequences. Little do they know that I discipline for sport. I told them I'd sit at my desk and pick them off, one by one. I think they took me seriously, but we'll find out on Thursday.

The rest of the day was pretty smooth sailing. Unfortunatley, I don't think I'll walk away with any shocking or unusual stories, much unlike the past years at TCK. Yelling and intimidation are pretty much out the window, but I can still joke with them. For my big joke of the day, I told them in the morning about a "mystery" homework assignment they had. They waited all day until the last part, when I turned to the board and wrote that they needed to complete a 10 page report detailing Colombia's national history, including all past presidents and their years of service. It was dead silent. They were relieved to hear that it was all just my idea of funny.

Ben

By the way, I have been taking pictures. I'm looking to get an adaptor for my memory card so that I can upload some of them. It shouldn't be too long...

THIS is why I have a blog...

Where do I even begin? Last night, was absolutely, without a doubt, one of the most incredibly entertaining nights of my life. This folks, is what we've all been waiting for...

So, the evening begins at our boss's house, an absolutely incredible 5 bedroom, 5 bath palace set high up in the Andes. She has the most INCREDIBLE array of food and drinks I've ever been blessed with. I'm talking serious GRUB. It was out of control. I ate and drank like an absolute fool. Then, somebody gets the incredibly intelligent idea to go out to a bar called Mangos. Here's the pitch: "Ben, do you want to go to Mangos? It's a dance club with women and midgets who dance on the bar." 'nuff said.

However, before we go, a teacher says that he wants to meet up with a friend who's in from out of town. I want to go home and shower, but it's a DAMN good thing I didn't, or I would have missed one of the most indescribable events of my life. We start driving up the hill and end up at this massive apartment where his friend is staying with another friend. We're told that it's on the 19th floor, which means we're going to have an incredible view. Did I say incredible? No, make that completely unbelievable. We go up to the most exquisite apartment I've ever seen in my life. This dude greets us at the door, and immediately I'm thinking "Scarface." You should have seen him. He's got the most amazing two story penthouse I could ever imagine. Drug lord, you're thinking? Most likely correct, but I didn't want to ask. Supposedly, he owns several insurance companies. Money laundering, you might say. Probably yes. I don't care though. I'm having a blast. He's got a "girlfriend" (but we're told by an inside source he may be gay) named "Lady" who is walking around the whole time serving us Jameson whisky. Out of control. We stay there for about an hour or so, then head out to Parque Lleras (the hotspot) for sushi and martinis. You wouldn't believe the prices.

So, I'm not going to bore you with details about the ridiculously cheap food and drink, let's cut to the the chase. Mangos is a gigantic wild west themed dance club. Latin American dance clubs, as Kevin and Myra could attest, are insane. We walk in and immediately see 3 midgets on top of the bar dancing. Music is absolutely blaring. There are bands, strobe lights, you name it. It's insanely loud and absolutely wild in there. We find the "insurance guy" who has a table and a bottle of whisky ( I don't even like whiskey) ready and waiting for us. He introduces us to 2 or 3 gorgeous ladies who are kind enough to show me some dance moves. So, we dance and drink, and wander around. I finally find a girl who is stunning (at least I'm pretty sure she was) and I start making my move. We're dancing, things are going great. She doesn't have a boyfriend, seems interested enough, and most importantly, says I'm not annoying her. I'm thinking the deal was sealed...until she says she has to go to the bathroom. So, I'm sitting there waiting for her to come back...5 minutes...10 minutes, finally everyone tells me to give it up. I'm totally but-hurt, for lack of a better expression. I was so sad. I don't put myself out there very often, so when I get REJECTED, I feel serious pain. Everyone kept consoling me and telling me that there'd be more, but hey, at least I tried.

Doesn't matter though, I'm in love with another primary teacher....

First Day Back for Teachers

Hola,

Today I got to meet all of the new teachers, which is good because I think the new teachers were starting to get a little tired of each other (maybe it was just me). I work with a great team, composed of 5 of us in all. There is Hillary, from Canada, who is a new teacher. We also have Liz, from Philly, Allison, from Canada, and Naomi, from Wisconsin. They are all high-energy, experienced teachers who I'm sure will teach me some new tricks. Naomi is apparently very organized, and I hope to glean something from that...

Our schedule is completely different than anything else I'm used to. We have TONS of prep time where the kids are off doing different things, such as PE, values and ethics classes, counseling, choir, Spanish classes, etc. As it turns out, I think I only teach 3-4 hours a day, but I have been assured that there are many other responsibilities that I am currently unaware of. I have heard lots of different things about the school, which mostly seem to suggest that the school isn't quite perfect. It sounds like things change a lot, and that it seems to operate rather shabbily. To get straight to the point, I asked our team leader what was more important: teaching the kids, or keeping the parents happy. The answer was unequivocably the latter. Also, I have been told that the kids are REALLY chatty, which is definitely a cultural thing (as witnessed this morning while all the Colombian teachers talked through the entire presentation) and that is going to be a problem. I'm going to put the Kaibosh on that right away. Also, the school frowns on negative consequences and yelling, two of my strong points. However, I have also been told that the kids are really great and a lot of fun, just not too serious about school. We'll see.

Tomorrow I'm getting the number of someone who will "exchange" with me, meaning that I will meet with them at least once a week over a drink and exchange Spanish for English, one hour each. Also, it seems to be a great way to meet people. I'm also going to be getting a Direct TV package, which I think will also supplement my Spanish (or at least that's the excuse I'm going with). In about an hour, I'm going to try my hand at jogging at 8,000 feet. I'm thinking that equals a lot of walk breaks, but when I get back, watch out!

I'm off. I think I need to get some work done.

Ben