Word up

My new job as ass. director requires many hours. Too many hours at the moment. I start at 6:45 a.m. and finish at 9:30 p.m. I don't mind hard work, but this is crazy even by Peruvian standards. In Peru, the work week is 48 hours and everybody seems a little stressed. Throw me on top of the pile. Or under a taxi or combi. I don't give a ceviche. This month is a little extra wild because a couple of teachers bailed on us with a couple of days notice. So I had to pick up classes in addition to my schmoozing and catch-all duties as ass. director. Also, I "taught the teachers" in the TELF program in September, which means I taught three young women from the U.S. all about grammar, and I mean all about grammar. Everything. Todo. Word classes, conditionals, phrases, clauses (dependent and independent, relative and non-relative, adverbial and other kinds I don't care to remember), phrasal verbs, mains verbs, auxiliary verbs, the 12 major tenses, subjunctive, conjunctions, adjuncts. Had enough? We sure did. The ladies (see latest picture) -- all in their twenties -- were awesome, and pretty darn funny. We got though that class -- three hours a day for 18 days -- with lots of humor and cookies. We went out dancing one night. Well, they were dancing. I ran out of gas pretty early, got lost walking home (which is dangerous), and collapsed into bed. Oddly, still woke up before 7 a.m. the next day. Guess the early schedule is in my blood. By the way, my schedule WILL settle down next month or I'll start walking the earth barefoot.
Played a fun game of "telephone" with my class tonight. I told a student some phony information about me: "I'm married, but I have two girlfriends in Peru. Also, the police in the U.S. are after me because I killed a mule." The student I told had to share the information privately with another student, who in turn shared it privately with another student, until everyone in the room had been told. The last student then reported "the final version" of the story: "An American guy who is married twice bought a mule."
I took a hundred-sol bill to the bank today to make change, because nobody in town seems to be able to change anything over a twenty. The teller appeared really annoyed and gave me 2 fifties. Took a while to get that settled. Peru has its quirks, and on rare occasions I feel some anti-Gringo-ism. I just try to roll with it.
One of our teachers was robbed and roughed up by a taxi driver. You can't let your guard down. That's true in all big cities, but the taxi thing is creepy here. I don't take them unless I absolutely have to. The teacher was obviously rattled, but is OK.
I'm back with my favorite class at San Pablo until the end of the month -- there's a picture of them on the right which I posted with my previous blog. Those guys are great. It's like old times. And I'm an old-timer.

The joys of teaching

There's a lot to like about teaching in Peru. For one thing, the students all call us "Teacher", or in my case, Teacher John. It's quite endearing. If the students are late to class -- and these are college students, mind you -- they knock on the door and ask for permission to enter the room. They also ask for permission to go to the bathroom, make a cell phone call outside the class, or leave early to deal with their ridiculously busy schedules (7 classes plus their English class with me.) For the most part, these students work incredibly hard and are very cheerful despite their workload. And when the female students get to know you, they greet with you a kiss on each cheek, like in complex and boring French movies. A lot of Peruvians greet each other that way, but it's girl-girl or boy-girl, never boy-boy. I do sense some homophobia here, and sometimes the topic will come up in class. I can tell some of the students are a little uncomfortable discussing it. I don't push it. I'm essentially a guest here. This is a Catholic country and I'm teaching at a Catholic university. I respect that. What I tell the students is that I don't feel I should be judging the actions or choices of others. We seem to have an agreement on that point.
I've been working quite a few hours, teaching and managing at the school. But it's OK. I like teaching so much because when I'm teaching, I'm not thinking about anything else in the world. I'm focused on getting the students to learn the material, and that's it. No problems, no concerns. The discipline issues are very minimal here. I've only had two or three students who were disruptive, and that's out of about 125 or so students I've taught. And as far as managing goes, my boss has been supportive, and we've got a pretty diverse, interesting and intelligent group of teachers. Our teacher coordinator is top-notch. No complaints on the job front.
Sometimes my inability to speak Spanish fluently can be extremely frustrating. People ask questions and many times all I can say is no comprende. I keep trying to improve at Spanish, but progress is very slow. But I am making some progress, and many times I'm able to bumble along with my Spanglish.
I was buying a cell phone Saturday, and the cheap electronics (hot electronics, if you know what I mean), are in a sketchy part of town. I've been down there before, but I've always been on the lookout for evil-doers. This time, as I scoured the streets for evil-doers, I also noticed a lot of prostitutes ... or ladies I was told were prostitutes. I also was told they turn tricks for 25 soles (about $8 U.S. dollars). Rough-looking bunch. It's kind of sad.
I'm going to buy some shoes today, or at least try to buy a pair. I wore down my other shoes walking so much. I've been told I'll have to go to a mall called Saga to find size 12. Looking to spend S/.90 (this is how to write your soles here -- 90 is about $30 U.S. dollars). Saga, or one of the malls, has a TGI Fridays, I think. Ugh. And I thought I was getting away by coming to Arequipa. I guess there's no escape.

Family, touring, reflection

My son Jack came to visit, and it was the highlight of my stay in Arequipa, and it will continue to be. I can't describe how wonderful it was to have Jack here, and I hope all my kids can make it down. We visited the Santa Catalina Monastery, which dates to the 1500s and is loaded with amazing art and artifacts. It's like a little city, with streets and houses, gardens, crypts and honest-to-goodness real living nuns tucked away in a corner of the monastery. We weren't allowed to see the nuns (about 20 of them live there). We hired a guide, a pretty woman who never changed expression or tone of voice as she told us fun facts in pretty good English: "In the 16th and 17th century... OK ... the girls training for to be nuns .... OK .... couldn't speak for at all from ages of 12 to 16 .... OK."  Sounds like a fun life, huh. The tour group we were in included a German couple, and the German guy kept inappropriately fondling his girlfriend throughout the tour. Weird.
Next, Jack and I went to Colca Canyon, or Canyon de Colca (as I work on my Spanish). Amazing place. We saw condors gliding above the canyon, and a couple of really quaint Andes villages -- Chivay and Maca. Colca is the world's third deepest canyon and is about twice as deep as the Grand Canyon. As you would expect, the views were spectacular. Our Colca tour group, which included a whiney American and his silent wife, went to a hot springs/swimming pool. Jack and I didn't have bathing suits, so we took about a 50-minute hike along the Colca River. For me, it was the highlight of the trip. We saw locals plowing with an ox, three donkeys and a horse hanging out on the trail, and dramatic scenery. We were at about 13,000-14,500 feet, I believe, which made breathing part of the adventure. We made it back to the "hot tub" just in time to catch to our van back to Arequipa.
The rest of the week, Jack provided support for me as I started a new job as assistant director at the language school here. I was really quite busy, teaching, eating alpaca and street food (delicious) and guinea pig (so-so), and assuming my duties at the school. I developed a wonderful bond with a class I had in August, and Jack got to meet the students and chat with them. He also was a guest in a couple of classes, talking about his poker business, his upcoming tour of duty in Afghanistan, and life in the U.S. In my class, we played 20 questions to figure out who this young gringo was -- they finally got it that he was mi hijo.
Jack left Saturday afternoon (Sept. 10), and it was all I could do to not start bawling my eyes out as I saw him off at the airport. I miss all my kids so much -- Alec, Caroline and Jessica -- and Jack's visit really brought that home to me.  I love and miss you guys.