Tutoring

December has come, and nearly gone. After a turbulent re-entry to the United Sates I am finally feeling settled into my life here in Saint Louis. It is currently winter break from my tutor position with 3rd graders at Woodward Elementary School.

The last day of school there was a holiday assembly. A 5th grader introduced the goals of the assembly. He expressed gratefulness for living in the United States where every child can go to school and get a free, quality education. These words stung my eyes, and the water works continued as a gym full of innocent, undereducated, underprivileged children stood for “My Country Tis of Thee”. The meritocracy and greatness of this country has never seemed more like indoctrination.

My school isn’t the worst of the worst, but there are kids in every class who can’t read. There are third graders who still don’t know their letters. Kids who qualify for an individualized education plan have a teacher who doesn’t even know what the unique educational needs of their students are. It’s hard to know those needs when the school doesn’t have records to show what those needs are. Who is this glorious free education serving? My education prepared me to be a life-long learner, but the kids in Saint Louis don’t have the same opportunity.

The students are adorable, and they are progressing. All of my kids know their letters now, and they are mastering the basic sight words taught in Kindergarten. Teaching comprehension and writing to those who aren’t as devastatingly behind is more challenging than teaching phonetics to the lower level students. I’m struggling to reach one student who has no motivation even when the subject has been carefully tailored to his interests.

Prior to this service I had a romantic view of passion as contagious. I assumed that my passion for words, letters, and stories, would automatically influence the students to be hypnotized by reading. I don’t write passion off as completely incommunicable, it’s just that these kids have some powerful anti-bodies built up.

Poverty seems harsher here than in the school I worked at in France. My students talk about guns, drugs, and violence. Several of my children have bad breath, and obvious dental problems. Over 90% of children at Woodward eat free breakfast, and lunch at school. The kids don’t have a play ground, and the school is locked. I’ve never been to a school in the States that is locked.

I’m learning and growing, and I’m hoping to help my kids on their path as well. Since September I’ve been reading exclusively children’s literature and pedagogical theory. I suspect this will be my literary diet until the end of my service. I’m sure that even so there is much I need to learn about the skill of imparting knowledge.

And so it is. I try to let it be just like that. Perhaps I’m not as effective as I could be if I were more experienced and trained or if I had more time with the kids. (I regularly fantasize about kidnapping my students and raising them in a carefully constructed dream world.) But I figure there is nothing I can do to hurt these kids, so I patiently cultivate and nurture to the best of my ability.

Anything and Everything!

Last update I expressed my deeply held belief that anything is possible and I provided four freak experiences as evidence. These four events are not the foundation of my adherence to the “anything is possible” theory of life. Indeed an abundance of joyous examples from my life and from the lives of loved ones have convinced me of the truth that anything is possible as well as, “everything is alright”. A few examples…

· Experiences of the 6th sense that make me sure a higher power exists and works through me.
· Traveling to countries I never expected to go to
· Reconnecting with people at just the right time.
· Visiting the apartment of the Peruvian ambassador to Italy.
· People who have helped me catch a bus/train/plane
· Jennifer having kids and getting married.
· The way I was welcomed and taken care of when I went to France.
· All the incredible people who have influenced my life.
· The support I had during the summer, without which I wouldn’t have been able to finish my job.
· Getting close to a wild moose.
· My Grandma surviving stage 4 cancer in the lymphoid.
· My cousins adopting kids.
· My cousins selling, renting, and then building a house despite challenges.
· Graduating college.
· Having a car.

Perhaps some of the events seem mundane or mere luck. Certainly a list does not do these extraordinary events justice, however the afore mentioned things represent the improbable to me. The divine way that things fit exquisitely together. I could list so many more examples from my life and the lives of loved ones, but I think I’ll stop there.

There are beginnings that I’ve had where I was naïve to possible down falls. I struck out full of positivity and innocence. It was only once I was in the midst of the situation that I realized if I had fully thought things through I wouldn’t have made the same choice. The potential for adversity would have paralyzed me and I would have been finished before I started.

France illustrates this point perfectly. I went over there knowing that funds were going to be a little tight for the first month. I didn’t realize until I got there that I flat out didn’t have enough money. If it weren’t for Carole and her family so graciously hosting me for the fist week, I wouldn’t have made it. Moreover the directrice of the Foyer accepted partial payment rent until my first pay check arrived.

If I were fully conscious of financial realities then I doubt I would have taken the risk to go. I would have been too proud to borrow money, and unwilling to sleeping on the street. However I did go, and the community/universe provided.

My choices are influenced by a belief that everything is possible and everything is alright. I was afraid to go to Chile, because I knew I couldn’t afford to buy a car and go to Chile. When I needed to book my flight it was yet unclear if I would need to buy a car. I didn’t want to miss an opportunity to see my friend if I didn’t buy a car, but I didn’t want to be stuck if I did need to buy a car. I also hated the idea that I had worked so hard all summer so that I could buy a car in order to work more. In the end I took a deep breath and decided to buy the ticket. I didn’t know what the outcome with the car would be, but I was sure that a solution would materialize.

There is something to be said for humility and responsibility. It is arrogant and completely unfair to be constantly needy and dependent on others. I’ve recently made a new goal to establish savings for the more challenging “anythings” such as health concerns, car accidents, job loss, etc. My main point is that there is always an element of risk, potential for unimaginable beauty as well as devastation. So live. Be alive every moment.

Rollerblading

I strapped on my rollerblades, and launched myself from the doorstep when suddenly my dad jumped out from the dark wielding a sharp object. Needless to say I screamed and told him that scarring me was uncalled for. Dad told me that he was showing me that I need to watch out more. This sparked a brief conversation on how I interact in the world. The conversation ended with me protesting about living in fear and defending the precautions I take emotionally and physically. Dad asserted that I was naïve and lucky that my ineffectual precautions have not led to my demise. Realizing that the point was mute I rolled my eyes under the cover of darkness and hugged my dad before I rolled away.

Being a sassy girl of the world, I get the “watch out for the Boogie-Man” talk a lot. The biggest initiators of these warnings are my many parents are who are in perpetual fear that I’m going to be attacked and or abducted. At least one of my parents also considers it a possibility that I could be brain washed. These fears are genuine and thus I consider the most loving thing for me to do is reassure my parents with smiles, hugs, kisses, and regular contact. If I can pacify their concerns without altering my sense of self then I do.

Despite the recommendations of everyone in my family, one simple act that I am incapable of fulfilling is watching the movie “Taken”. I’ll save my political, feminist arguments about the sexualization of violence against women and the absurdity of violence as entertainment regardless of context for another blog. Thoughts on media aside, I just can’t watch scary or bloody movies.

My imagination is still alive and well. Normally I skip around thinking happy thoughts and making up beautiful things in my head. I credit my general happiness to this habit of perpetually daydreaming. Perhaps my privilege makes it possible for me to go around in a fantasy land. Or perhaps I’m genetically inclined to float around on a sublime cloud. Whatever the case may be, that is how I function.

My imagination has a dark side however. This coincides with other images that pop up at bizarre times. Sometimes I’m walking along on a sunny day humming a song to myself when somewhere from the depths of my mind the idea that someone (usually a man) in my vicinity could attack me. In an effort to prevent a regular state of imagining horrific events, I just try to stay away from them. This includes movies like “Taken”.

When I’m exposed to violent things, I have nightmares, and I can’t stop my imagination from replaying scenes and expanding on them in more gruesome ways. Sometimes images from a film like that will pop up at unexpected times. I do listen to the news, and sometimes I’ll get nightmares from that, but what can I do?

Perhaps the morbid parts of me have always been their but they are more prevalent since I found an uninvited man in my room, and since my friend was murdered. Other improbable events like my Uncle dyeing in a plane crash, my Grandpa dyeing in an ordinary medical procedure, and my cousin getting hit by a bus have also contributed to an over all feeling that anything can and will happen.

For my 23 years I have been part of a perpetual and reinforcing cycle of blissful imaginings. I worry about how this would play out if I spun too far out into negativity. When I do get into dark moods, they scare me. There is a long history of depression in my family, could I fall into that?

So I prefer not to think about “sad/bad” things. I intentionally separate myself from them to the best of my ability. I keep busy. I get my energy from people. The sadness always escapes and manifests itself in the form of sleeplessness, illness or general emotional neediness, however thus far happiness always prevails.

Changes

Jennifer recently bought a house and she moved back to Washington. Since the end of September I’ve known that Jenn would probably move, however she left suddenly after her and Jana had a dispute. Jennifer has been gone for two weeks, but I’m still feeling out a new equilibrium. All and all I have been three weeks in adjusting because the week Jenn packed was extremely difficult. Jana was gone for most of that week, and boxes were everywhere. Fortunately Jennifer and Jana reconnected before Jenn and the kids left. It was important to both girls that Aedan and Jana got to spend time together before they left.

I was so relieved when Jana came back home that my personal water fountains sprung to life. The girls were able to transcend their differences because there were kids involved. Extraordinary feats of relationship repair often occurs when kids are involved, but I have to wonder why can’t adults put their pride aside because of love? Why blame? Does silent treatment and hurtful burdens add anything to the lives of people in conflict?

In any case, the house is quieter, and I have been staying extra busy to alleviate sad feelings. I’m happy for Jennifer and her family. It’s wonderful that she is able to buy a house. I admire her strength everyday. I still miss her and the kids though. I miss silly conversations with Jennifer and all the ridiculous things she says. I miss playing cars and cooking with Aedan. I miss tickling Morgan, and I miss Kenley’s sweet smile. Even for though it was short the time we had together was truly special. My poor brother in law must be heart broken without them. I keep Sam in mind and think, “I can’t really complain, but sometimes I still do…”

I’ve been working on my relationship with Jana since I arrived, and I’m starting to feel the love grow. My relationship with Jana is teaching me how to love. Patience and love is building trust between us. My strategy to react defensively is shifting. It’s becoming more and more evident to me that defensiveness and justifications only creates holes. The past few days when I hug Jana, I don’t get the feeling that she is embracing me out of a sense of obligation. We are healing.

Awe

I just got home from a conference for AmeriCorps in Kansas City. I had a lovely time, and bonded with more of my amazing colleagues, but the expense of the trip concerns me. We charted a bus, and stayed in a nice Marriott in the business district. It seemed a little too classy considering we are all trying to serve people who struggle with basic needs. Perhaps deals were cut, and it wasn't as expensive, but nevertheless cost was surely incurred. Normally cost is associated with things, but the information we received at the conference wasn't so extraordinary that we needed to travel five hours and stay in a snazzy hotel.

Meeting Cameron Clapp was one exceptional thing that wouldn't have been reproducible for all of AmeriCorps Missouri without bringing us to one place. Cameron is an athlete and a triple amputee. He overcame unfathomable adversity to be where he is at. Despite the loss of his limbs, and his twin brother Cameron is extremely positive. I was completely in awe of him and I hung around afterwards just listening to him talk to other people. I asked him if their were any pole vaulters who use prosthetics, and he gave me a hug.

This sort of awe, that overcomes me has occurred before with speakers that came to campus. I never know what to say to them, but I want to interact with them. I want to somehow absorb their wonderful wisdom.

Some of the most remarkable people I have met, were dying, or nearly died once. These experiences shake a person to the core, and instill feeling that life is so precious, that their is almost nothing worthy of getting upset about. I understand this truth on an intellectual level, but my heart hasn't caught up yet. Petty things still rile me up but I'm hoping that my head and heart reconcile to a place of divine positivity sooner than later. I'd rather not cheat death or die to attain such wisdom.

Camping

I spent an amazing week at camp with my AmeriCorps colleagues. My favorite moments were canoeing across a lake at dusk, finding a pretty little turtle, guitar songs, sports, metaphors, and fake mustaches. I enjoyed getting to know my colleagues so much. It’s a privilege to be around such inspirational people.

It was relieving to be far from the TV for a week. After five years without a TV I’ve found that it’s really challenging to be in a house with so many loud TV’s all the time. I don’t watch TV, but it still affects the atmosphere around me.

I also loved that people were much more in the moment at camp. Nobody had to go anywhere, or call anyone. What was engaging at the moment was all that mattered weather that was chatting with a friend, listening to music, dancing, finding a stick, or eating. Living in the present for every moment is a constant aim, but I have a lot of work to do. I need to develop more strength to be present in such a plugged in world.

A struggle I faced at camp was landing the canoes and getting everyone on shore. The landing wasn’t a quiet beach as I expected, and thus I worried about getting everyone on shore dry and safe. I also worried about the crew coming after us, and if they could depart dry. Being dry and safe was certainly a concern, but it wasn’t an unsurpassable goal. In retrospect getting wet would not have been tragic, but I was worried about it. I was an active participant in getting everyone on land safely and mostly dry, so I wasn’t aware of how deeply this landing worried me. I found out though when I got a headache. I assumed this headache was provoked by hunger and thirst so I acted accordingly, which led to nausea.

After I got sick the headache and the nausea abated of it’s own accord and I was able to coherently reflect on everything that led up to the nausea. I think the sickness was a physical reaction to worry that I didn’t fully acknowledge at the moment it arrived. Since I didn’t acknowledge the worry and deal with it my body had a strong physical reaction. This is not the first time this has happened to me, and I’m starting to think that it is weakness in my character.

My body letting me know something is up usually happens in the face of two competing emotions. In the case of camping my fear and worry was competing with my joy of being in the woods and the value I place on being a tuff girl. Being worried sick was not a joyous or tuff event for sure. The other competing emotions are that I think worry is useless because everything works out in the end.

Positivity is the foundation of my ever developing philosophy on life, thus I think I must repress a lot of negative emotions. Positivity has served me well, but I’m wondering how balanced my emotional climate is. Perhaps I need strategies to accept and be fully aware of all of my emotions while moving towards more and more pos itivity. Hmmm where to go…

Living Easy

I am back in Saint Louis, living it up with my family, and entertaining a friend from Germany. I've known Stefanie since I was 12 years old, and I am so happy to have her at my house:) It's exciting to see the things that she is in awe of. Stefanie is one of the kids I ran around with when I lived in Germany. So many of my formative experiences involve her. Since she has been here, I've felt like we were kids again. We have been playing sports, chatting it up, listening to music, and doing other fun stuff. Ever since I've been back in St. Louis I've felt like I've been having a second summer. It's been in the 80's all week, and I've done nothing but play.

Part of this play has included welcoming activities with AmeriCorps. I really like my colleagues a lot:) They all seem open minded, big hearted, and adventurous. I'm leaving on a 5 day intensive training and camp trip with AmeriCorps tomorrow. I'm really pumped for it. I haven't been camping in a few years.

Besos

Chileans love kisses. Kisses are given on the right cheek while simultaneously raising the right hand to touch the left shoulder. This is the basic hello for all women. Chilean men give each other kisses more than French men but it depends on the situation and how close the men are to one another. The basic kiss/touch greeting quickly progresses to a hug and a kiss. Usually a little conversation is all it takes. I´ve noticed that friends of Ursula´s are quicker to hug me.

My favorite people to greet are Chileans and Germans because their is potential for hugs and kisses. The social rules about hugging and kissing in Germany are far more complex, and it happens less often. I wonder how a ¨free cheek kiss¨sign would do in the United States. I would probably only attract straight men.

And so it is...

I recently fell in love, and it took me completely by surprise. I really didn´t see it coming, but I´m totally smitten with grammar. I´ve studied languages intensively for five years, and I´ve always resisted grammar at times even detested it. I suppose I was bound to fall under it´s charms eventually. I regularly got C´s in college language classes, because I didn´t study. I was very engaged with my readings and my papers but I couldn´t be bothered with the idiosyncrasies of grammar. I like words, and I like the idea of knowing a language. I like culture, history, and politics. I pretend I´m a spy, and spy´s need to know foreign languages. But I NEVER liked grammar. It was a necessary evil. It is the math of languages. Grammar; to many rules, not enough discourse.

So their I was in my intensive Spanish class, and we were flying through stuff. My teacher didn´t have to explain any grammar to me, just the rules of Spanish grammar. After hearing grammar so many times, I suppose most of it sunk in, although I know that I am still weak in certain grammatical aspects of each language. Now I´m motivated to study it critically, to intentionally make the observations. I want to practice grammar on a meta-conscious level, not just a habitual level of passive resignation to seemingly arbitrary rules. It´s a shame I didn´t fall in love sooner because I had the opportunity to study grammar in college. I guess it is a lesson in remembering that every moment is an opportunity, and I never know how I might be served by it.

Normally I´m a huge fan of details especially concerning art, history, and peoples lives. I never liked grammar details because it didn´t seem creative. Now I´m a fan. It is creative. If you know the grammar, then on a literature level their are so many creative possibilities. French and German literature has an additional element of beauty because the grammar of the languages is so much more specific than English.

After my Spanish class, I briefly fantasized about being a language teacher. This has always been out of the question, primarily because grammar was so loathsome. Now that I´m enchanted with all aspects of language, I feel that I could share that passion with other people. Sometimes I wish I would stop having so many exciting ideas about what to do with my life! Reincarnation is increasingly becoming an attractive idea as I struggle to accept that I probably won´t have time to do everything I want to do.

Gringos Beware!

Their is an expression in Chile that if you don´t look in the eyes of the person you cheers with, then you´ll have bad sex for five years. The Germans and the French feel strongly about eye contact on the cheers but not as strongly as the Chileans. I have the most trouble getting eye contact in the States. Italy, Ireland, Norway, and Sweden always rendered a good eye lock. But eye contact in the United States is so rare that I get a thrill from a good Cheers when I´m home. So if you´re reading this, consider raising your eyes when you raise your glass.

Learning Spanish

Currently I speak exclusively in the present tense with poorly conjugated verbs. My friends in France teased me about using gestures, but speaking Spanish is like a full on theatrical performance. Whole ideas are expressed using no words. What did you do today was once answered like this.

Good.
Go Friend of Anna´s Birthday.
Eat empanadas.
A lot, and the gesture for walk.
Artisan shopping.
Register School.
I like.
Good Day.

Details, sentences, and conjugations are extraneous. This economy of words lends a whole new dimension to the idea of minimalism. Every time I´m in the position of learning a language I have to question how important my contributions to conversations are, and if I couldn´t stand to hold my tongue more.

When first learning a language, I usually only speak when I´m asked something. Talking usually requires a translator of sorts. Someone who understands my baby talk and gestures. Some people are really awesome at it and I wonder if I have some special connection with these translators, or if these are just sensitive, observant, creative people.

I prefer to be in groups greater than three because their is a polite/awkward timidity about speaking when its only two others and I. They don´t want to talk for fear of excluding me, and I don´t speak for fear of excluding someone. When it´s me and more than two others the awkwardness of my not understanding quickly dissipates and I become a fly on the wall. At which point I´m free to practice my periphery vision, observe social interactions, or listen to whatever I can understand of the conversation. Generally I understand quite a bit if someone deliberately speaks slowly with me, although I´m getting better at normal conversation speed.

A week of Spanish classes starts today.

Viva Chile!

I arrived in Chile Tuesday on a rainy winter morning but I was all warmed up when I hugged my friend Ursula! I´m so excited to be here! It´s wonderful to learn more about my friend, who she is, and where she comes from. Ursula was a big part of my life in France. We shared all of the good times and challenges of life in France. She was their from day one when we both spoke very little French. It must have been hilarious to hear the two us babbling like kids. Ursula understands my experience in France like nobody else can, and she understands what it´s like to go home. I can always tell someone my history, but I feel profoundly connected to someone when I have lived a history with them. That´s why family, particularly siblings are so precious to me. Who else besides siblings do I have more shared history with?

Ursula is an actress, and passionate theater fanatic. Last night my dream to see her on stage finally came true. It was incredible. The text was written by the director, and I´m in the middle of studying it. I´ll get to see the show many times, so I´m hoping to really understand it by the time I leave. This weekend I´m going to the country, so I think I´ll have plenty of time to study it their.

After the show we went to one of the actors apartment. He lives in the center of Santiago. We had drinks and chatted on the top of a 24 story building. I regret not having my camera. The view and the lights were phenomenal. I had so many wonderful people to share it with too. Could life get any richer?

Blog

I created this blog for those who were interested and had time to read about my adventures in France. Blogging also functioned as a way to keep in touch as well as evade the “How was France?” question. The same question overwhelmed me when I returned from Germany a few years ago.

I intended to quite blogging when I moved back to the States, but I enjoyed it so much that I’ve decided to keep writing. For most of the people who read my blog the USA isn’t very exotic or interesting so I might loose some readers, but... muh.

It’s a mark of my ego that I think my ideas and experiences warrant a special place on the web. However blogging has morphed into more than mere glorification of my not so unique experiences. I use writing as a medium of thought process. I keep a journal, but I never re-read it or edit it. Blogging allows me to revel in the process of; finding just the right words, arranging, and rearranging the word order. Crafting something that is clear and meaningful to someone else heightens my own sense of self awareness. Thus, I justify my blog as part of my never ending clichéd pursuit of “finding myself”.

In France I updated my blog weekly. Now that I’m in the States, I don’t know if I’ll have that many new and exciting things to report about. Furthermore, once I’m back in Illinois I don’t if I’ll have time between being a full time working girl and playing house with my sister.

If I do have time and lack of good material from my own personal life, I might do some current events, particularly of the international variety. My latest addition to my long list of life fantasies is to be a rogue journalist. Shaking up media reform, and shocking the masses into the mobilization of a peace movement.

Thank you all so much for reading.

Whirl Wind!

So, it’s been a month since my update. Unfortunately this one is more a sound bite of last month than a real update.

Moving from Colorado to Illinois was stressful, but significantly less so than I thought it would be. Jennifer is an amazingly strong woman. She drove most of the 18 hours including the first leg right after saying goodbye to her husband. Then she lugged those babies inside every 3 hours to feed them. She really shocks me! I admire her a lot.

When we got to Illinois there was something going on everyday for the first week. I think this helped keep Jenn from getting too sad. People trickled in town and out of town one by one. Gina, Jason, mom, and Aunt Randa. We had a great time together:)

Little Miss Jana is all grown up and graduated. I can’t believe it really. I helped change her diapers. I can’t imagine how my parents must feel. I’m happy for her and excited to see what she comes up with next. Post graduation is such an exciting and empowering time.

Jennifer’s stuff came and we got our part of the house organized. Jenn, the kids, and I share the basement which we affectionately referred to as “The Cave” due to excessive darkness.

I celebrated Jana’s 18th birthday:) We went dancing in a club. She had a great time, and I was really happy that she invited me out with all of her friends:)

I came back to Washington. It smells incredible here. Western Washington in is my home.

Things I learned

I’m still reflecting on all the things that I learned in France and I’ve been thinking about all the wonderful opportunities I had to learn what it means to establish boundaries. Teaching has helped me learn the difference between when I’m really hurting people’s feelings, and when I am being manipulated into sacrificing my boundaries.

I’m also learning how to sit with “negative” emotions as well as witnessing someone else’. Previously when someone was sad or disappointed, I had a really hard time. I felt guilty even when I had nothing at all to do with the situation.

Teaching has been integral to asserting my boundaries. If I sent a student back to the real teacher or if I confiscated something I was inevitably greeted with, “I didn’t do anything. No Miss, please! I’ll stop, I promise…” etc etc. It’s pitiful. The kid always looked genuinely disappointed and stressed. However I ceased to view myself as the cause of this stress. I always gave plenty of chances, explanations, and warning. If the kid is getting something confiscated or if they were sent out of class, they definitely earned it. I’ve learned that if I don’t set limits other kids take liberties. Punishment is a chance to teach the kids about respect and boundaries. It also shows the students that learning is an opportunity. I never yelled when I sent kids out of class. I explain that they have had plenty of chances and that they acted in a way that had a negative impact on the learning environment. I also remind the student that they can redeem themselves the next time we have class together.

The other thing that has helped me be less afraid of hurting someone is dancing in clubs. Dancing in clubs is different from social dance. The music doesn’t stop, the floor is more crowded and nobody asks someone else to dance, it is just dance.

Communication is almost entirely nonverbal. Eye contact and smiles invite someone to dance. Some men approach a little too forcefully and were never invited. At first I tried passive ways to say “no thanks I don’t want to dance.” I would move my position in the crowd, turn my back on the person, take a more active approach to dancing with someone else etc. Unfortunately, there is usually some guy who doesn’t get it. He comes up and touches without making eye contact. When this happens I’ve taken to flat out pushing the guy away from me. This has always been significantly forceful to discourage future contact. I think it intimidates other nice perhaps less confident guys who might want to dance with me, but oh well.

Dancing in clubs has also forced me to say no to people. I hate saying no! I realized how bad I was at saying no the first time someone asked me for my number and I gave it to him because I didn’t know what else to do. Now, if someone asks if they can see me again or if they can have my number I have all kinds of reasons why I can’t. He doesn’t need to know that I think it is shallow to ask me on a date without ever having a conversation with me.

Even if the guy is bad at other non-verbal conversation, I’ve learned that they can pick up on the way I say no. It was so difficult for me to say no at the start that I wouldn’t look at the guy and or I would smile. These subtle non-verbal’s give the guy the impression that I’m not serious and so he persists. Now I’m better at saying no firmly yet without being mean

Colorado

I’ve been in Colorado since May 8th. I was happily surprised that my mom was here. I was expecting her, but I didn’t think she would be here right away. It was great to be with mom for mother’s day! While mom was here we went to the Denver aquarium, went for a walk, ate good diners, and went to a neat town. After mom left we went to a picnic for Sam’s work, had a garage sale, and yesterday…

My sister, Sam, his brother (Doug), Aedan, the twins, and I all went fishing at a reservoir. The lake was stunning, with red rock formations everywhere. We hiked about ten minutes along a trail to our fishing site. I was so proud of Jenn for wanting to come and having a good time. We were quite the caravan hiking down that trail bringing baby carriers and a cooler with a 2.5 year old toddling along. I got Jenn and the twins all set up with some shade.

Jenn spent most of the time relaxing with the twins and reading magazines. Aedan kept saying “Fiiiish! Fiiish!” He loved throwing rocks in the water and rock climbing too. The big boys fished. I was all over the place; fishing, climbing, walking, taking pictures, and relaxing with Jennifer.

The whole day was perfect. Perfect company, perfect weather, perfect food, perfect place. We all had a good time and at the end of the day everyone had satisfied tiredness.
We are in high gear packing and cleaning the house now. The kids, Jennifer, Doug, the cat, and I drive to Illinois on May 26th. Jana graduates May 31st, and I leave for Washington June 12th. Work starts at the Farm June 17th.

New York City

New York City is like something out of Wonderland.

I stayed at a hostel in Harlem. The first day I was so exhausted that I went to the bank, and went to bed. Fortunately as I laid down I met some great people who kept me up talking and joking otherwise I would have been crashed out by 6:30pm. I think I made it to about 8pm, but I can’t remember falling asleep. I regained consciousness at 4am.

I set out at 7:30am on Wednesday May 6th for a lovely day of shock and awe. I walked through Central Park, and I wanted to spend all day their, but the city was calling. I adore the juxtaposition between Nature and city. I ate a delicious American breakfast for the first time in 7 months, and then I was the first in line for the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

It was a dream to go to the Met. I spent six glorious hours their, and I didn’t even scratch the surface. The Met has paragraph long descriptions for nearly every piece of art, and there is over 100 hours of audio commentary. By the time I left was super hungry. Additionally I was experiencing information and visual overstimulation. I think I have an art problem, I should have left earlier, but there was always one more thing to see. When I finally reached a breaking point, I was utterly lost and had to ask two people where the exit was.

After the Met I approached the giant buildings. I have never felt so insignificant next to man-made objects. It’s normal to feel insignificant next to the ocean, mountains, or in an open meadow under stars, but feeling smaller than a speck amongst buildings seems twisted. I felt like I was in a giant house without a roof. I was supposed to meet a friend, but without a phone communication was difficult and I think we were both confused as to where we were meeting. So after the art I floated around for several hours and I made it back to my hostel at around 8pm.

I made plans to go out Wednesday night with one of the people I was chatting with on Tuesday night, and by the time I got back to the hostel I was ready to make my excuses for staying in, but another chat renewed my energy. So off we went with another amazing lady to a jazz club. It was awesome!!! I want to come back to NYC and work in a jazz club. I’ll spend my days in the MET.

The three of us had such a good time together Wednesday night that we spent Thursday together too. We rode the Satan Island Ferry, wandered Times Square, and Wall Street. Thursday was incredible! Good company and fantastic sights.

Time Square is outstanding in every sense of the word. I’ve never seen anything like it. There are billboards everywhere. The shops in Time Square compete to be the flashiest too. The Toys R Us has a ferris wheel and you better believe we rode it! Time Square also has an entire three story shop dedicated to the cult of M &M’s. It includes a mood reader based on the colors of M&M’s. You can buy M&M’s by the color in dispensers that run from the ceiling to the floor. There is M&M; t-shirts, jewelry, office supplies, toys, and much more.

We walked past the World Trade Center site. It’s shocking that 8 years are already gone. The firefighters memorial was impactful, especially the notes and pictures that people left. Before we closed out our day we watched the moon rise, and the sun set.

Friday the 8th I was all to happy and relieved to be with my family.

Dublin

I left my wonderful friends in Metz before dawn on Saturday May 2nd. My tears must have made the driver uncomfortable because he turned up the music too loud. Fortunately things went smoothly at the airport, and I was reminded yet again that worry is useless. I was greeted by sunshine in downtown Dublin at 12pm and I checked into a random hostel that the shuttle driver pointed me to. It was the dirtiest hostel I’ve ever stayed in, but I think I’m better off for the experience.

After I check-in, I wandered around the city. I visited the Museum of Decorative Arts, where I learned that clovers are a very genuine part of Irish culture. I’m always skeptical when a symbol is so pervasive that it is cliché. When I arrived in Dublin, I thought the clover was hyped up for tourists, at the Museum of Decorative Arts, I realized that it has been used on clothing, jewelry, house wares, etc long before mass tourism.

I stopped at the Guinness Storehouse after the museum. I was impressed by the giant waterfall on the tour and all the turquoise beams. I learned how to properly pour a Guinness, and I enjoyed the Red while looking out on the small town of Dublin.

There is a reason that the doors in Dublin are renown. The architecture in Dublin just isn’t interesting. It is charming, but it doesn’t inspire pictures. Most of the city is made of small red brick buildings. It screams working class. I saw statues that glorified labor, and wondered if work was the only thing that united the Irish Catholics and Irish Protestants during the most violent bits of Irish history.

Sunday I took a hop-on hop-off bus tour and I saw the National Gallery as well as the Museum of Modern Art. I was lucky enough to have another day of sun. Monday I spent all day gift shopping for mom and Marla, but to no avail. It was a rainy bank holiday, so options were limited.
I met some interesting people in the hostel, but nobody who was up for hanging out. There was a group of girls from Uganda who were living in the hostel while pursuing a masters degree. I thought they were really strong. Another woman was living in the hostel who had been traveling for the last 25 years. She was 48 and super jaded.

I was ecstatic about the whole driving on the right side bit. I had an overwhelming desire to be a passenger, but I knew if this dream was realized, it would only lead to the urge to drive. Driving would be a danger to myself and others, so I did the responsible thing and didn’t go out of my way to pursue a drive. After all I nearly died at twice because I looked the wrong way while crossing the street

Mostly I was sad and lonely in Dublin. I know that influences the way I view the city, but I’m convinced that Dublin isn’t the most interesting thing about Ireland. I would love to go back and tour the island. When I checked into my flight to NYC and exchanged money I was so overwhelmed to be heading toward home after such an incredible 7 months that I cried.

Bus

It’s always a thrill to ride the bus in France. The roads are so small. Holding my breath as the driver squeezes through some seemingly impossible situation is a regular occurrence. Drivers dress classy in France too. A lot of them wear ties and slacks.

The city bus drivers have a lot of friends. Despite the ban on cell phones while driving, I regularly see drivers talking on the phone, or even more impressive, texting. It’s always fun to watch a women get her flirt on with the male drivers for the entire duration of the ride. Flirting is in flagrant disregard for the sign that says it is prohibited to chat with the driver. Female drivers are less common and seem to be more professional.

The buses that travel on the highway and through different towns are stick shifts. I was in complete awe the first time I saw this. I took a picture incase my dear readers were in disbelief. This picture was taken while I was on a class field trip. Everyone in the bus knew me, so it wasn’t too weird that I was taking a picture of the driver. I want to take pictures of drivers flirting, or tinkering with their cell phones but I haven’t had a good opportunity.

Bars

I’m growing to love bars. The concept was lost on me prior to living in France. I thought, “Why pay double for a beer so that I can sit and talk? I can drink beer at home and talk.”

There was a time when I thought going out was pointless if there wasn’t a dance floor. I still feel this way about Friday and Saturday night. We can start the night in a bar, but I like to finish on the dance floor.

Going out is capitalist and bourgeoisie, but I for example am not allowed to have guests in my dorm past 11pm. Boy guests are absolutely forbidden. Thus, going out has moved up on the priority list. There are other benefits though. The person going out can control when they arrive and when they leave. This is particularly important on week nights. If you invite someone to your house, you open yourself to a longer night than expected.

Additionally the energy changes when one goes out. Maybe I’m too much of a busy body but home seems a little to normal, to comfortable. When I’m home I automatically slip into my quiet self. Inviting people over seems to go against the grain.

By contrast when I go out the environment is stimulating. My friends are their, and I might unexpectedly run into other acquaintances or I could meet new people. Crowed watching is always a highlight. I adore hellos, good-byes, and laughing. My absolute favorite thing to see is singing and dancing in bars not specifically designed for such activities. So, cheers to bars!

Cell Phone

I found a cell phone on the bus, so I took it home and called the number that said “Pappa”. We made arrangements for him to recuperate the cell phone, and I was thanked relentlessly. When the man came to get the cell phone he insisted on paying me. When politely refusing failed I resorted to shoving the money in his sweater pocket and running up stairs as fast as I could.

I was disappointed that he wanted to pay me. I tried to explain that it was normal to return something that wasn’t mine especially something as important as a cell phone. I hate the feeling that so much is motivated by money. It’s despicable to assign monetary value to life, the environment, and normal community interactions. Where is the humanity in that?

It’s necessary to understand money and basic economics in our society. I know that I have more to learn about economics. Economics isn’t just money, its cost benefit analysis and diminishing returns on all things. I highly recommend “Freakonomics” I don’t believe society nationally or internationally has reached a balance with money. Our relationship to money is skewed and it has poisoned things. Critiques of money are not new, and I’m not interested in offering something else on the topic.

I’m interested in learning economics, learning the critiques, and combining them with ideas of culture and socialization, to encourage a realignment of values.

Paris

Anna and I had a lovely breakfast Monday morning. Unfortunately she went off to work and we had to say goodbye, but we made plans to dance in Seattle this summer.

Paris is impressive, and the weather was perfect. I got into the city before the museums opened and I wandered. Two hours passed shockingly fast. Everywhere I looked I was experiencing things I had only heard about or read about. I had that feeling that I always get when I’m super happy. It’s the sensation that I’m a fluffy white cloud floating in a bright blue sky.
When I woke up to the fact that it was 10am I headed straight to the Orangerie for some Impressionism.

I spent nearly five hours in this little museum. I had an audio guide, I read every sign, and eavesdropped on every tour I could understand. One of the art guards teased me because I was there so long. He said I should leave because every time he saw me I was cold or crying.

Orangerie showed a movie on Monet’s Water Lilies. When I finally went upstairs to see them the impact was double because I knew a little history. I was so inspired. Monet had a dream to paint Water Lilies since hew was in his 20’s. He spent the last 30 years of his life working on that dream despite war, loss, and vision troubles. I’m going to visit his gardens in the near future.

After the Orangerie I was intellectually and emotionally drained. I wanted to see the Picasso Museum and Pompidou but I didn’t have the courage. So I ate and rented a bike.
Renting a bike was awesome! In Bellingham I rode everyday, in Metz I haven’t ridden in months. I’ve really missed my bike. Ridding in Paris traffic was thrilling. I’ve never ridden in so much traffic. Paris has wide streets and the drivers were really respectful. The drivers must be accustomed to bikes because Paris has a huge and popular bike renting program.

I got to see much more of the city because I was on bike. The world is more magical on a bike too. I was aimlessly riding around looking at pretty things and I found myself getting closer and closer to the Eiffel Tower. I’m sure the Eiffel Tower has the power to lure. I wasn’t planning on going up to the Eiffel tower. You can see it from many places in the city. I thought, “Oh, the Eiffel Tower isn’t anywhere close to the most interesting thing in Paris. I’m not going to waste my time on it.” Yet when I got there, I was genuinely excited.

Breakfast in Rome Diner in Paris

Sunday morning I stumbled out of bed in time to hug Brandon goodbye. While he was on his way to Spain at 6am I slept the morning away. The hostel was deserted when I woke up at 9ish. I leisurely got ready, walked around the neighborhood, and then headed off to the airport.

I found my friend Anna in the heart of Paris at 6pm. Anna and I met in my last French class spring quarter. We were both eager to graduate and impatient to see if we would be offered a teaching position in France. I regret that I didn’t meet Anna sooner. I really admire her creativity and the way she thinks. That evening Anna and I went to diner at Jim Haynes apartment.

Having diner at Jim Hayne’s place was a dream come true. Jim hosts a diner every Sunday with the goal of bringing people together. It was neat to be in an environment where so many people were willing introduce themselves and have conversation.

Jim has been bringing people together and sharing his vision of community since the late fifties. He’s started bookstores, theaters, papers, festivals, and written books. My couchsurfing host in Oslo introduced me to Jim. I read his books, “Thanks for Coming.” And “Workers of the World Unite and Stop Working.” His other books are on my never-ending reading list.

Unexpected Invitations

Saturday night we went to the Pantheon so that we could see the home of the gods and goddesses lit up. The Pantheon is the oldest functional building in Rome.

Everyone was hanging out and chatting in front of the Pantheon and some of us were trying to figure out how to take pictures in the dark. Then we wandered over to the gelato stand because small talk and old buildings are always better with gelato in hand.

After mastering lighting issues, I tried to find the best angels to take pictures. Capturing the Pantheon is challenging because it is a huge building in a small square with an obelisque (stolen from Egypt) in the center. As I was pretending to be an amazing photographer my comrades were debating the merits of various illuminated ruins and the desirability of bar-hopping.

Suddenly, Brandon, and our six new friends, were led toward an apartment. Someone quickly whispered to me in the stairwell that we were invited to the private apartment of the Peruvian ambassador to Italy.

It turns out one of the two Argentinean women in our group met these 4 young men on the train. After the formality of hand shakes and kisses we were led through the beautiful apartment and onto a balcony which had a perfect view of the Pantheon.

We did the best we could to get to know each other. One of the four men who welcomed us spoke basic/intermediate English. Two out of our eight spoke Spanish as their first language and three out of our group spoke very basic Spanish. Unfortunately I don’t speak any Spanish and neither did two others in our group. When talking failed me I resorted to dancing.

Vatican

Saturday Brandon and I struck out early to explore the Vatican. The weather was so nice we didn’t wear coats! At St. Peters Cathedral we huffed it up more steps than Rocky. The view was absolutely outstanding! Rome is colorful, it has palm trees, and a river. Seeing it all from above was really special.

After we saw St. Peters we grabbed a quick bite to eat and headed over to the Vatican Museum which contains the Sistine Chapel. I would love to go back to the Vatican museum because we didn’t have time or energy to see it all. We spent a lot of time in the Sistine Chapel, but it is so intricate that I didn’t feel like I had enough time to adequately burn the images on my retinas.

As I was touring the Vatican I kept thinking “My Grandparents have been here!” This made me feel really connected to the place. I also couldn’t help thinking of my Dad and how meaningful a trip to the Vatican would be for him.

I’m pretty sure Brandon and I borrowed energy from Saturday to pull off Friday. We were both sound asleep in our hostel beds by 5pm. I Felt like I could have slept right through to Sunday, but Brandon prodding me, and the promise of free diner lured me into the common room at 8:30 pm. Diner, conversation, and guitar music put the life back into everyone. We set out with our hostel mates again and what ensued is so exciting it requires its own blog entry.

Rome

Last week was extremely enriching. I topped it off by meeting my cousin Brandon in Rome Friday morning. It was so good to see someone I’ve known fro years!

We set out immediately to explore the Forum. It was captivating and larger than I imagined. We spent several hours their. It was interesting to see how the perspective and angles of the ruins changed based on where I was standing. I’ve always been enthralled by ruins and abandoned buildings.

Hanging out with Brandon was fantastic we caught up, made jokes, etc etc.:):):):) After the Forum we had some delicious pasta and then we joined a tour at the Colosseum.

Our guide told us about the Colosseum’s glory days and the tragedy of gladiators who were enslaved to perform violent entertainment. After centuries of looting and abandonment the Colosseum has been partially restored to entertain tourists.

The Colosseum tour led right into another 45 minute tour of the Forum. We’re pretty sure this was a mistake on the guide’s part because we only paid 5 euro. We went along with it, and the Forum was even better the second time around. We saw a part that we accidently missed the first time, the lighting was better for pictures, and the history was fascinating.

After the tours we walked around Rome and then went back to the hostel to relax. That night we went out with our very awesome hostel mates. Everyone was truly lovely. The most interesting conversation I had was with t a Jewish-American man who spent three years in Israel.

At the bars we learned that there are a lot of Americans in Rome. They are all illegally living the Italian dream as under the table English teachers, tour guides, and leaf letters. Sounds exciting to me!

Patience

Teaching has provided plenty of opportunities for me to practice patience, acceptance, and living in the moment. It has also been a humbling reminder that I still have such a long way to go. When I start to master being patient in one context, I am inevitably provided with a new situation and I start the process of practicing patience all over again.

Some of my students are really strong in English, others can’t conjugate the verb to be. Some students are willing to participate, others are like stone. Since I only see each student once every two or three weeks it is hard to know what I am in for. Sometimes I take on a group of students who I know are strong, but they are tired and having an off day. The result is; I have to live in the moment, and work with what I’ve got.

I know that if I become frustrated or impatient my students will become withdrawn and they will feel bad about themselves. My defense against impatience is encourage, encourage, encourage. Slowly, I’m genuinely starting to be more patient and truly happy with however my students arrive to me. It’s been work though, and I have a lot more work to do. It’s hard to be patient if I’m tired or having an off day, but I’m getting better. Fortunately I don’t have very many tired days.

Poverty

Last year, when I applied to Teach for America, I learned that schools In the United States are primarily funded by property taxes. Therefore, a school that is in a neighborhood with a lot of public housing receives less property taxes, ergo less funding. Less funding, means less of everything. Less salary for teachers, less supplies, after school programs, honors programs, music programs, theater programs etc. Lack of funds is seen as a major player in the under education of millions of children. The solution that was presented to me through Teach for America is that more money and a few hyper-motivated teachers would render better schools and better students.

In France I teach in an Education Priority School. This means that the students in my school underperform on national exams and they are largely economically underprivileged. At my school over 50% of the students failed the national exam. In addition to poverty my school has a high percentage of students who are immigrants or come from immigrant families. The students at my school have a reputation for being difficult.

There are numerous schools in the United States that fit the above description. However in France, all schools have the same amount of money per pupil. Despite the socioeconomic status of my students, my school is in a new building, and has plenty of supplies. Teachers are paid extra to compensate for teaching in a challenging school. My experiences here in France have presented a challenge to my cultural assumptions about how to deal with educational disparity and cyclical poverty.

I think all students regardless of social status should have equal access to high quality education. Their is no doubt that education has an important equalizing force on society. However it is clear to me that education isn’t the only thing needed to stop cyclical poverty. In analyzing culture there is far more than one variable. France, for example, doesn’t have the same tradition of afterschool programs, music programs, and honors programs. It’s hard to measure the extent that supplemental programming contributes to the development of students. Nevertheless, it seems clear, that money and teachers are not the only things necessary to solving poverty. How do we bridge the gap between the haves and the have-nots?

Next year I’ll be a tutor for AmeriCorps at an underprivileged school in St. Louis. I’m excited for the opportunity to compare next years experience with my experiences in France. Hopefully I’ll have a better understanding of culture, education, and poverty.

Sad

Today I found out that an arrest was made in connection to the murder of Jeremy Scully, who was one of my pole vaulting coaches.

I’m sad all over again for the loss.

I’m sad for the person who killed my friend. Two types of people commit crimes; those with big hurts and those with severe mental illness.

I’m sad that I don’t know what to do with the person who killed my friend. All the great religious profits would undoubtedly say forgiveness. Forgiveness seems to have magical powers of healing and peace making.

But how? How do I see past my own hurt, to connect with the hurt of the person who hurt me and so many others?

Can I still continue to hurt and forgive? If not, how do I stop hurting?
I have some reading and thinking to do. There are a lot of incredible stories out their. I would really like to take an abnormal psychology class as well.

I’m sad that as a society the best idea we have come up with for dealing with social hazards is prison. Prison isn’t a place of healing.

I’m sad that the person who killed my friend will be dehumanized into nothing more than a murderer. I am sad that we will probably take our collective hurt to the point of murder.

I am hopeful that one day society will acquire such a heightened state of collective consciousness and responsibility that prisons will be archaic and crime unheard of.

French High School

If a French middle school student passes a national exam they are invited to three years of high school. Upon entering high school students choose a track of study. Either they go for a language/literature track, a science/math track, or a mixture. The same legislation that is trying to reform French kindergarten is trying to reform the high schools to be more like the United States.

In France high school students are responsible for purchasing their own books. I was pretty shocked to learn about this, especially since University is nearly free. There are book scholarships for economically disadvantaged students but it still seems difficult to buy books in high school. Education prior to 18 is a gift from the state. It is in a countries best interest to have an educated population, and it seems like buying books is a bit of a hurdle.

Despite buying books, 80% of students receive the BAC. The BAC is roughly equivalent to the American high school diploma. Those who don’t go to high school or for some other reason don’t get the BAC receive education in a trade.

Perhaps it is my own cultural assumptions, but I don’t have any sense of school community in France. The schools here don’t have any school sponsored sports or dances. I have never seen anybody wearing school paraphernalia. Every class has a representative, but their isn’t a student government.

Hotdog

Ursula wanted to buy a hotdog at the end of a cold and windy day in Stockholm. So we stopped at the next vendor, which was staffed by a man in his 20’s. I translated the details of her hotdog options from English into French. After shivering, I tried to sympathize with the man fixing the hotdog.

“You must be cold out here all day! And you can’t even wear gloves!”

“You get used to it, and the fire helps” the vendor replied. “Are you French?”

“No, I’m from the Untied States, and she is from Chile, we live in France and teach our mother tongues, but we speak French to each other because I don’t speak Spanish and she doesn’t speak English. Where are you from?”

“Iraq.”

“I’m so sorry.” I immediately started fighting tears.

“It’s just politics.”

“How long have you been here?”

“I’ve been here a year and a half. They killed my family so I escaped Iraq.”
Ursula and the vendor exchanged the hot dog for the money. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s politics.”

The second my back was turned on the vendor I couldn’t stop crying. Ursula had no idea what was going on, and I couldn’t speak for a while. How cruel that coming to a foreign country to sell hotdogs in subzero temperatures is a life improvement. I thought it was nice of him to use the impersonal “they”. After I got back to the hostel it took several hours of quite time and journaling before I felt ready to socialize.

Why I Travel

I feel compelled to travel. I have an insatiable curiosity about the world that can’t be satisfied by books. I’m an extremely physical person. My body buzzes when I engage all of my senses and expand my limits.

I want to seek out all the knowledge that I can. I don’t know what I am going to do with this knowledge, but I’m sure it will come in handy someday. Once I went to an informational meeting on French drivers license. The subject couldn’t have been less interesting, but I wanted to practice French. Later, my seemingly useless store of information came in handy when my friend got pulled over. Maybe I’ll have more experiences like that.

A short list of things I learned on my latest trip….
1.) Francophone Swiss bisous three times starting from the left.
2.) Norwegians start learning English at four years old
3.) 80% of Swedes speak English.
4.) Gustav Vigeland
5.) Gustav Klimt
6.) Theater etiquette
7.) Basic Tango
8.) New Foods
9.) New French music.
10.) Swedes like to celebrate travel with a drink, even at five in the morning.
11.) 10-15% of Jordanians are Christian.
12.) The opportunity to get a perspective on culture and politics in Jordan.
13.) Challenging conversations
14.) History
15.) Bauhaus

I don’t go looking for happiness in other countries. I’m not disappointed when I find that at a very fundamental level other countries are similar to my own. People are tired of work, they like to talk and eat. Everyone everywhere wants to be safe, happy, and loved. People are doing their best to take care of themselves and their families.

A big theme from my latest trip is wandering around towns, and talking with folks. It doesn’t sound that interesting; I don’t have to leave the United States to do that. There are pretty towns and interesting people everywhere. Every country has a psudo national identity as well as subcultures, and countercultures. So why buy plane tickets?

I get along with travelers. All my best friends in life are travelers. The people I meet on the road are kindred spirits. I appreciate and recognize fundamental similarities between other countries and my own, but I like details too. SAD didn’t affect me at all this winter because I was so stimulated by the newness and excitement of details like funny caddy’s in the grocery store.

My latest trip was particularly interesting, because it was the first time that I traveled in countries where I don’t speak the national language. The majority of people in Norway and Sweden speak English, but travel isn’t the same if one doesn’t speak the language. There is a big difference between travel and tourism. I’m cautiously willing to say that tourism is almost inevitable if one doesn’t speak the language. I don’t know anything about Swedish culture for example. Couchsurfing does a little bit to bridge the tourism versus travel gap. Nevertheless, I can’t say that after four days with one Norwegian that I have an understanding of Norwegian culture. I think of travel as a long stay, genuine cultural sharing, and language. I’m leery of the comodified element pervasive to tourism. Yet tourism has advantages, so I proceed with caution.

Indeed travel and tourism aren’t without problems. Travel is a privilege and it’s not great for the environment. I could easily be spending my time and money in more philanthropic ways. At it’s base, I believe travel is important to building a sense of global identity, compassion, and understanding. Travel also offers an invaluable opportunity to really understanding one’s mother culture. Even if someone never gets intimate with another culture, it doesn’t take much tourism to open a new perspective on home. Travel as an idea isn’t really problematic; it is the structures that surround it. Quitting travel isn’t an acceptable option; instead travelers should unite to make travel more accessible, less corporate, and more environmentally friendly.

Their, and Back Again

Ursula and I had a good time in Frankfurt. After I wrote the last blog, we wondered aimlessly around the city and talked. Ursula was very impressed with Frankfurt. Eventually we hit up a restaurant so that Ursula could sample some German cuisine. Then we continued wandering and talking. We stopped into some churches, paused for coffee breaks, and took pictures of pretty buildings. I’ve been to the Frankfurt Airport so many times, that it was nice to finally get to know the city a little better. Urusla and I didn’t have a map, but Frankfurt is on a grid and has some tall buildings so it was pretty easy to navigate.

That evening our couchsurfing host Gautier made us a wonderful diner and then we went out for a beer. Gautier is a really open minded positive guy. He is French, and he is doing an internship in Frankfurt to complete his last year of school. Soon he’ll be traveling around Eastern Europe for a month and then he’ll start another internship in Berlin. Gautier is 20 and he is also in the “Where am I going next!?” phase in his life, so it was especially good to talk to him. He has a lot of interests and talent so I’m sure he’ll work something out. Ursula, Gautier, and I talked about culture, beer, language, teaching, materialism, travel, tobacco, politics, etc… It was wonderful.

The next day, (Wednesday), Ursula and I set out for the airport. She caught a bus back to Metz, and I caught a plane to Oslo. I met up with Fredrik, my couchsurfing host without a problem. I was grateful that he fed me right away, because I was so hungry! Fredrik is a well traveled writer, and an avid tango dancer. Talking with him and trying tango was really neat. We shared meals together, and I learned a lot. More on that later….

Oslo is great! All the museums are free in the winter, and the buildings are super colorful.
I spent Thursday chasing after Edvard Munch. I came to Oslo, because I fell in love with Munch. Traveling to another country is the craziest thing I’ve ever done for love. I hope too keep it that way. I started the day in the National Gallery, and then I went to in the Munch Museum. The National Gallery had some of Munch’s best paintings, along with other outstanding pieces. I was floating! It’s not a big museum but I spent over three hours their. Unfortunately I wasn’t allowed to take pictures in the National Gallery.

Friday, Fredrik was kind enough to share the fortress and the town hall with me. I felt so grateful that he came along and told me about some history and culture. I know he must have seen those things hundreds of times. Later that day, I ventured out to the exquisite Gustav Vigeland sculpture park, and Fredrik went skiing. I was so impressed by the sculptures. I tired to take pictures, but it was difficult because sculptures are huge, and they are best appreciated in 3D.

Saturday I saw a Contemporary Art Museum. I wanted to see the Modern Art Museum, but for some weird reason it didn’t open when it was supposed to. Oh well. I didn’t understand the Contemporary Art, but appreciated the posters that described the philosophy behind the Contemporary Art Movement. In an overly simplified sound bite, “Contemporary Art tries to appreciate art as a process while celebrating the intrinsic beauty of everyday objects”. I’m really into that philosophy!

After Contemporary Art, I caught my plane home. I came in at midnight and my lovely friends cooked a meal for me and we chatted it up until nearly four in the morning. I get so sad when I think about leaving my friends. It was wonderful to have someone to come back to at the end of the trip, I missed them so much! Living alone isn’t too terrible if I have friends like that. I can’t imagine coming home to nobody after a long trip.

Well I’m back in Metz, and work starts tomorrow. I’ve kept a simplified account of my travels, but I have more to share, and I’m still processing. I think it will be a blog heavy week. You can check out my pictures on Facebook. I’ve also accepted a job in St. Louis as a tutor with AmeriCorps. More on all that later as well!

Stop-Over in Frankfurt

Ursula and I had a great time in Stockholm! It really is a magical place with all the islands, water, and bridges. Sunday We went out to the residence of the Royal family. The theater on the property is really renown, and Ursula is an actress so we we wanted to check it out, but unfortunately the theater was closed. We still had a good time though. Ursula stood on a frozen lake for the first time, and the palace was nice. We both loved taking the public transportation out to the palace. The palace is about 40 minutes outside of the main islands of Stockholm. After the palace we rode public transportation to other parts of Stockholm. It is such a treat to just ride around or walk around with water views and bridges everywhere.

Our hostel experience in Stockholm was really cool! We met a some awesome people and had great conversations. We walked around for two hours Saturday night trying to find a place to dance, but we were a group of 4 girls and 11 guys so no club would let us in.

Sunday night we hung out in the hostel and chatted. We played cards with a group of Francophone Swiss. They told us that the Swiss bisous three times starting from the left. In France we start from the right and bisous two times. I spent a long time talking to a Christian guy from Jordan who lives in the hostel full time. Their was also a really neat group of three roommates who study in Poland. One roommate was French, another Italian, and the other Turkish. I´m actually hoping to go visit them. We´ll see.....:):):)

Ursula and I got in to Frankfurt unexpectedly late, but our couchsurfing host was so gracious! We chatted a little bit last night, but he had work today so we´ll hang out some more tonight. Today Ursula and I are going to hang out in Frankfurt. We don´t have any particular plan at the moment. We´ll catch a bus back to the airport at 11am tomorrow. At the airport we are going to part ways. I´ll be couchsurfing in Oslo, but their was an unexpected change to Ursula´s plans so she´ll be heading back to Metz. I´ll be back in Metz on the 21st.

Goodbye Berlin Hello Stockholm

The second hostel I stayed at in Berlin was definitely more active than the one Elizabeth and I stayed at the first two nights. A 17 year old boy invited me to go out with him and his friends, but decided it was best to do my laundry. I was hoping to connect with some people at the hostel but the washing machine was really old and I spent three hours doing my laundry. In the morning I got up early to make it to the museums.

The museum I went to was mostly about Picasso. I don't love Picasso the way I love Manet, Renoir, Munch Van Gogh, Emile, and Monet. I never get the feeling that I'm floating when I see Picasso's work, but he fascinates me. Picasso can render anything in a completely "normal" fashion, but frequently he chose not to. I'm interested in Picasso as a man. Why did he choose to render some things more in cubes, and other things, twisted or exaggerated. It is clear from Picasso's work that he has a sense of humor as well. His use of color is captivating. I've always been interested in Picasso because his work is weird, but listening to every track on the audio guide that the museum provided has only fueled my curiosity. I have added reading a biography about Picasso, and visiting the Picasso museum in Paris to my list of goals.

After I hung out with Picasso I saw another not so interesting museum and then I headed to the Berlin airport. Spending the day with myself wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but I was super glad to see my friend Ursula when I landed in Frankfurt. We got to the Stockholm without a problem, and spent the night in the airport. At five in the morning the airport was full of people drinking beer. I'm not joking. Beer for breakfast. Ursula and I were shocked. I asked someone about it later and they said that people were drinking to celebrate their trip. Urusula and I had a good laugh about that. If we didn't ask, we would have thought that Swedes have beer everyday for breakfast. It is so easy to extrapolate based on one observation. Ive been trying to make observations without assumptions, but this experience showed me that I have lots more work to do.

At ten in the morning Ursula and I took a bus into Stockholm. When we arrived an hour and a half later we were amazed. Stockholm is built on several islands connected by bridges. It is truly phenomenal. I realized that every city I love is built on the water. Ursula and I immediately set out to find food, and a hostel. We were checking out hostels on a list from the tourist office but we unexpectedly found something else. It's a quite hostel in the old part of town that caters to families. The location is excellent because our little island is sandwiched between the two bigger islands and you have to pass through it to get from one big island to another. We're saving a lot of money on food because it's so easy to come back to the hostel to eat lunch. Ursula and I are eating really well in Stockholm because we supplement the food we bought with food from the free cupboard.

Stockholm is a big city, but unlike Berlin, it is very walkable. The main reason to be in Stockholm is to walk around looking at pretty buildings and water views. The highlight today was running into a troupe of dancers dressed completely in white. The dancers gestures were funny, beautiful, and inspiring. They walked around the city drawing attention to themselves. We joined the crowd that followed them to the venue. Ursula and I wanted to watch because we were both captivated, but we couldn't find a place where we could see.

Berlin

Berlin is a big city, but it is almost empty so there isn't all the hustle and bustle typical of big cities. Berlin's unusually large sidewalks are never crowded, and the huge streets seemed deserted. I've never been to London, but I was told that Berlin is a smidge smaller than London in terms of land, but it has half the population.

My friend Elizabeth arrived safely Monday night and we set out in search of a hostel straight away. We got a little lost and had a taste for how spread out Berlin is. Fortunately the first hostel we came to had space for us and we were lucky enough to get a private room. The hostel was clean, quite, and safe. Their were also large tasty beers for one euro. After checkin we ate at a Turkish influenced cafe and hit the pillow early.

Tuesday we got an early start and headed over to the Reichstags building. The gigantic spiraling glass dome was amazing! It was such a neat view! I would like to come back again on a clear day. After studying the curves and reflections of the dome we warmed up with a coffee at the cafe in the top of the dome. The nice thing about chilly weather is that the dome and cafe weren't crowded. The cafe was charming with a red tulip on every table.

After the Reichstag we meandered over to the memorial to the Politicians who stood up to Hitler and then over to the Brandenberg gate where we meditated in the room of silence. Then we explored the Murderd Jews of Europe memorial. I'm generally not a fan of memorials, but this one was alright. It is a forest of stones designed to look like caskets which come in various sizes. All the stones are in rows but the elevation varies and they lean slightly. The overall effect was a little dissorienting. Also, the stones were treated with an anti-graffiti chemical that has the dual affect of making the stones look like they are crying when it rains.

Later we had lunch, and joined a fantastic walking tour. After the walking tour we spent some time at the Check Point Charlie museum, had some diner, and tucked in early.

Today, (Wednesday) Elizabeth and I had the good fortune of seeing some Australians from our walking tour at the cafe where we ate breakfast. So we all had breakfast together, and enjoyed some good conversations. Then Elizabeth and I spent most of the day walking arround. Berlin has some really neat buildings, and graffiti. We walked from East Berlin, to the Bauhaus in West Berlin. I wasn't planning on going to the Bauhaus, but I REALLY enjoyed it. Previously I had no idea the effect that Bauhaus had on modern furniture, architecture, and art. Kandinsky taught at the Bauhaus too:):):).

After the Bauhaus Elizabeth had to catch her plane back to Frankfurt, and I set out to find a new hostel deep in the West of Berlin. West Berlin, has much less graffiti and charm than East Berlin, but I like it. I chose to change hotels, because I wanted to get a different experience and see more of this giganic city. I checked into my hostel, and then set out immediately. It is clear that this hostel experience will be different. I have a twin bed in a co-ed room full of I don't know how many bunk beds. This is how I imagined hostels. I'll report back later.

After checking into the hostel I caught a bus and then a train back to the East where I investigated the Egyptian museum. I went to the Egyptian museum because my little sister has a fascination with ancient Egyptian culture. Needless to say I thought about her quite a bit while I was exploring.

After the Egyptian Museum I had time to visit the Jewish Museum, but it was neither close to the trainstation nor the Egypitian museum. Since I didn't have the energy to get to two different corners of the city I chose to walk straight to the trainstation which took nearly two hours. Although my walk did involve getting a tea and getting lost. Now I'm in the internet cafe at the trainstation. I accidently bought to much time on Monday, and I know I won't have time to use it tomorrow.

Tomorrow I am going to another part of West Germany to check out an art museum that I'm super excited about. Their is another neat museum in that area too. At about 2pm I am going to start trecking over to the airport. I suspect it will take about two hours with public transit to get to the Berlin airport from the museums I want to see.

This time Tomorrow my friend Ursula and I will fly from Frankfurt to Stockholm. We get in at about 11:30pm, and from what I understand the airport in Stockholm is far from any place interesting. We are planning to sleep in the airport tomorrow night and then we will catch a train into the city. It looks like we will be staying in a hostel Friday night.

Vacation Started

I just spent the weekend with a childhood friend from when I lived near Heidelberg. Steffanie lives near Münster now. Everytime I see one of my friends from Germany, I feel shocked that we're grownups. Steffanie and I didn't do anything touristy. We enjoyed eachothers company, talked about her visit to St. Louis, and hung out with her friends. It was really wonderful!

My weekend with Steffanie was the first stop on a two week vacation. Currently I'm sitting in an internet cafe in Berlin. A friend of mine arrives soon and then we're going to ber really touristy. Thursday I head to Stockholm. I'm going to try to update my blog again before I leave Berlin.

These next two weeks are an opportunity to practice spontinaity and minimalism. I'm traveling with a school back pack, and some over-night accommodations are yet to be determined.

I'm a Pseudo Teacher

I teach 12 hours a week to 6-12 students at a time. I have taught normal classes, special education classes, and honors classes. Since I only take part of the class at a time I only see my students once every two or three weeks. This makes it really hard to learn names and establish relationships. It’s also hard to see what, if any, progress I might be contributing.

Preparation for class isn’t too difficult. Once I have a good lesson plan I can use it in several classes for several weeks. I think preparation takes me longer than a real teacher because I have no experience planning. Using the same lesson several times is always interesting. I love to see what different classes come up with. Also, the same lesson might be a complete failure with one class and a total success with another.

Students at my school are known for being difficult, although I don’t usually have any trouble with them. If I do, then I send the student back to the real teacher. I have a quasi teacher status but the students don’t seem to perceive me as a teacher. I’m five years younger than the youngest teacher at the school, students use my first name, I don’t give grades, and some students have cussed in front of me. I don’t think they know that I know French cuss words. As long as the student isn’t being mean or directing their cuss words at someone particular, I don’t run interference. Prior to winter break I felt like a rock star. Every time I walked down the hall I would hear “Hello Miss!” “How are you Miss?” “Jamie! I love you” “You are beautiful” etc. etc… At first this was a little overwhelming.

Because the students don’t see me as a real teacher, sometimes they can get a little chatty in class. I encourage students to talk, in a structured English environment. However, when they are chatty it is with each other and in French. When the students are chatty I ask them to stop, refuse to go on, move the student, and if it comes to it give my “it’s hard to learn a language” talk.

I give this talk in French which usually gets their attention. I explain to them that I practice French every day yet I still make mistakes. I ask them if they think 4 hours of English a week is really enough to learn a language. Then I tell them they need to profit from every second of class time which is why I use gestures and other English words to explain things they don’t understand. I also tell them that their chattiness is unfair and has a negative effect on the students who are interested in learning. I tell chatty students that if they are not interested they shouldn’t ask to come with me again. Finally I make it clear that if the chatty students don’t sit quietly for the time being they will be sent immediately back to class. I move on after I look the chattiest students in they eye and ask them if they understand.

Middle School

I teach at a middle school called Louis Pasture. The students range from 11 -15 years old. French middle schoolers are every bit as awkward and angsty as American middle schoolers. Middle schoolers in France are generally regarded with suspicion. All new schools have a locked gate to prevent unauthorized entering and exiting. Students are required to carry around a note book where they keep their schedule, write down homework, and keep track of appointments. Should the need arise; there is also a section in the notebook to communicate with parents.

School starts at 8am and ends at 5pm. Most students have a two hour lunch break starting at 12pm, but kids who have chosen to take 2 foreign languages only have a one hour lunch break. Students have the option to eat in the school cafeteria, but many go home. The students schedule is different every day. Students have 10 subjects and they don’t have every class every day. Students are organized into years and classes. For example there are six classes of the third year. The class stays together for nearly every subject. In their last year of middle school every student takes a one week internship in order to explore career possibilities.

In addition to the administration and teachers there are a few staff at the school who work entirely on discipline. They monitor the kids in the court yard, monitor the halls, collect attendance, give late excuses, monitor detention, and handle unruly kids who get sent out of class. Detention and extra written assignments are common punishments for chatty or impolite students.

French schools are a bit more formal than American schools. The students are required to stay standing until the teacher invites them to sit down, and if an adult enters the room the students drop everything and stand. Many teachers also utilize an interrogation method of testing students’ knowledge. The student is invited to the front of class and answers various questions.

Teachers in France are a bit stricter, and there is more yelling than in the United States. Many teachers yell very little, if at all. However there are a very special two at my school who yell unscrupulously. I know this kind of yelling would not be allowed in American schools. I was shocked and afraid the first time I heard it. Literally afraid. I couldn’t imagine sitting in that class. It is so negative. Most teachers don’t support yelling of this nature, but they also have some compassion for the yellers because the students at Louis Pasture are notoriously challenging.