On Taxies

This week in Barranquilla the Carnival is visiting, in the fair grounds beside the old stadium. Here they call it the cuidad de llero or iron city. There is an odd collection of well painted but skeptical looking rides, including a small roller coaster. Rafa and I talked about going down and walking around a little and perhaps bravely trying out some of the rides but we decided against it. I don’t know why really, the taxi ride we took this afternoon was far more dangerous.
I need you all to learn a very important Spanish phrase before we can go on: no, pronounced with a short O sound. While seemingly simple, this phrase is often difficult to clearly remember when faced with a South American Hard Sell, which is what led to our adventure this afternoon. There were three distinct moments this afternoon when Rafa or I could have saved ourselves from our ride in the cuidad de llero; the first was in response to: “I have a good taxi, the one with the lights at the end, OK?” One’s first thought is: well, at least it has lights that’s better than many, sounds good. But please don’t be fooled by the South American Hard Sell (from now on to be called the SAHS for efficiencies sake). Our second opportunity came a few short seconds later with: “It will cost you eight thousand pesos”. Again, one would logically think that a slightly more expensive taxi (this ride generally costs six or seven thousand) would be more comfortable but once again we were caught in the trap of the SAHS. And our final opportunity came only fifteen seconds later when the taxi came to a screeching hault not twenty meters from where it began and we were asked “I’ll give you the ride in seven thousand and we’ll drop off this girl by the Vivero on our way OK”. In that moment I was nearly able to bring out that oh so important saving phrase “no” but you will forgive me when you notice the lack of any comma in front of the OK or question mark after. One of the other characteristics of the tenacious SAHS is that it often does not leave you any time to refuse. So the girl got in (I was comforted by the fact that she didn’t seem to feel too happy about the arrangement either, Rafa can look pretty scary when he is pissed off) and off we went.
There seems to be a general accepted truth among drivers of public transportation in Barranquilla, that the more cars you can pass in a day the quicker you will get to the end of your shift and be able to go home. I don’t know how this fits into the more generally accepted understanding of space-time continuum but perhaps they know something we don’t. If the pass cars=pass time faster theory is in fact true then Rafa and I defiantly had the uncomfortable experience of having our time continuum sped ahead by at least fifteen minutes. Unfortunately I didn’t have my watch on so I wasn’t able to check. We passed innumerable cars and buses, almost hit a bicycle/ice cream cart so that our driver could talk to a friend riding in the back of a truck and nearly killed at least one dog. At one point I noticed the driver fingering the rosary which was hanging from the rear view mirror. As a good South American Catholic I can only assume he was praying to Mary or Joseph or the Baby Jesus; for our sakes I hope it was all three as our lives were in mortal danger at least three times during the ride. After dropping off the young, and apologetic looking young woman at her house (which was near the Vivero but down a rather unhealthy asphalted side road) we started a series of nauseating detours to get back on our original rout. There was a heavy rain this afternoon in Barranquilla so the already pot filled streets we also covered with garbage, bits of trees which had been washed down the arroyos (flash floods which fill up a series of major streets during the rain) and a small dog fighting a smaller but feisty looking iguana.
After five years here the ride was more exasperating then exciting, although since it has been the inspiration for this page I guess I can’t really complain. I asked Rafa quietly in English if we should just pay the taxi driver six thousand pesos as a protest, he did get four out of the young, apologetic looking woman after all, but Rafa assured me that that would be worse so I grit my teeth and prepared to watch him shell out the money. However Mary, Joseph and the Baby Jesus must have been paying attention to my silent and I am afraid less than charitable prayers and after being handed a ten thousand peso bill the taxi driver said nine small magical words; “do you have a one to give you four?” He had been struck down by a defender of the rights of those afflicted with the effects of the South American Hard Sell; the lack of appropriate change. And when I was asked “do you have a one to give you four” I was ready with that so important defensive phrase – no! In order to clear my conscious I must admit between us that I did have a thousand peso bill in my purse but I was determined that my protest against the taxi drivers lack of concern over my personal safety and the general well being of the city would be heard! No! Rafa found seven hundred pesos in his pocket and we were given the four thousand in change. I can tell you that a savings of three hundred pesos (the equivalent of about fifteen cents) never felt so justified. I had, in a small way, triumphed over the dreaded SAHS.

One for the books

Well, after a long and tiring day, with a sore lower back (there were 5 teachers out of school today so we were all covering double) I got "one for the books." I haven't laughed this hard in a while. It might be the mild hysteria brought on by exhaustion, you'll all have to let me know if you think it is as funny as I do.

From an explanatory paragraph on someone who has made an important contribution to humanity:
"Jesus was a very or still loved because he was the one of the people that surfed for humans". I'm laughing just typing it. The mental image is just too funny.

I find as they days go on I feel more and more like an educator. Man, who would ever have guessed it! I certainly wouldn't have. It feels like a profession I will stick around in. Perhaps through my surfing I will also be make an important contribution to humanity.

A Typical Day

I thought I would start with a typical day, and then anything outside of that can be BIG news and get it's own post.

A typical day starts at 5:20 when the alarm clock goes off. Now comes the difficult process of getting out of bed. Rafa does not have to leave the house until 8:00 and being the first one out of bed is difficult. At some point in the next thirty minutes I will finally leave the bed and head for the bathroom. What follows is all the normal bathroom stuff, then breakfast, etc. At 6:30 I am heading down stairs to the basement to fire up my motorcycle (or the lawn mower with two wheels as my brother calls it). She (the motorcycle) and I will travel though the streets to school. This ride is relaxing and pleasant before 6:15 and stressful after 6:30 when the rest of the city is trying to get their children to school on time: running late is a constant state of affairs here in Barranquilla.

School begins with turning on the computer and getting organized. I am struck lately with how much time I actually spend everyday sitting in front of the computer. It seems to have become an integral part of nearly all parts of my life. The first bell rings at 7:30 and in comes 8A for homeroom. They are a lively bunch but respectful when reminded and generally very pleasant and fun. We have been talking about drug use lately in homeroom and we are both learning lots of things. I teach 90 minute blocks, between two and three per day. Classes are lively and the time passes quickly. During planning periods I try to be productive and grade papers but it is often difficult with the lure of fun computer projects like video editing, updating web-site and setting up new and exciting Blogs.

When the bell rings at 2:30 I sit down at my desk and begin to clear away the random piles of paperwork which have accumulated throughout the day. On Mondays and Fridays a student comes for tutoring and from Tuesday to Thursday I grade and catch-up before leaving for my ESL classes. I am working with a great group of adults who all work for Children International. We are working on conversation and I am able to use my training from last years on-line course (ESL Specialty Part I). ESL classes finish at 5:30 and then it's to the house briefly to say hello to Rafa who is even more briefly in the house. We catch up on the day, he goes out the door to the park and I (on a good day) go out the door to the gym.

At around 8:30 it's home again and to sleep almost immediately. It's not the most exciting life but I have come to enjoy it. It's become home.

to see more about what's happening at school check out my new toy: www.msjuliasenglish.com