"I Want the Pretty Teacher"
Once, some years ago, I was living in that small charmingly odd beach town - Trujillo, Colon, Honduras. To keep occupied I did many things had a little business, painted a few murals, and finally also wound up doing what most unqualified Gringos do in Latin America - teaching English.
It came about when I was out at the wash-basin, a cement resevoir/washboard outside - scrubbing and hanging my clothes on the clothes line one steamy afternoon and a couple walked by - a Spaniard and his Honduran wife. They asked me if I would like to teach English at the new school they were opening. They asked for no resume - hell, they didn't even care that I had a B.A. in Literature. They just wanted a Gringo/a. That was my credential to educate two groups of 15 Honduran adults. Just show up, and we'll give you an Ingles sin Barerras video to work with. Have you ever watched Ingles sin Barerras? It is the most boring, painfully dull thing and needless to say I ditched it pretty quickly and just did my own excercises based on the interests of the class. It went fairly well - I came off as a real pro - but for some reason despite having, over the years, done this teaching gig a fair amount - I still feel like I don't know what the hell I'm doing.
I Want La Maestra Bonita.
There are many scenarios that arose in this classroom situation; when you have students who pick their nose while you're speaking, things can get pretty interesting. But this morning in the car a particular thing came into mind...
There were two teachers, me and a woman named Adriana - we later became housemates - she was an ex-nun-in-training who had run away with a priest-in-training and had a baby. She was Costa Rican and quite eductaed however she refused to speak English with me - too embarrassed. But they hired her anyway, because she was Costa Rican and therefore might as well have been American.
Anyway, Adriana kind of dressed like an ex-nun, and I didn't. I definately didn't dress "like a teacher". I probrably dressed the same way I did when I was going to the disco. I wasn't much into "the covering of the flesh" at that time.
Anyway, as anticlimactic as this might be...One day a guy came up to me and said, "I want to be in the English class - but I want the pretty teacher." "Must be the other teacher," I said.
It came about when I was out at the wash-basin, a cement resevoir/washboard outside - scrubbing and hanging my clothes on the clothes line one steamy afternoon and a couple walked by - a Spaniard and his Honduran wife. They asked me if I would like to teach English at the new school they were opening. They asked for no resume - hell, they didn't even care that I had a B.A. in Literature. They just wanted a Gringo/a. That was my credential to educate two groups of 15 Honduran adults. Just show up, and we'll give you an Ingles sin Barerras video to work with. Have you ever watched Ingles sin Barerras? It is the most boring, painfully dull thing and needless to say I ditched it pretty quickly and just did my own excercises based on the interests of the class. It went fairly well - I came off as a real pro - but for some reason despite having, over the years, done this teaching gig a fair amount - I still feel like I don't know what the hell I'm doing.
I Want La Maestra Bonita.
There are many scenarios that arose in this classroom situation; when you have students who pick their nose while you're speaking, things can get pretty interesting. But this morning in the car a particular thing came into mind...
There were two teachers, me and a woman named Adriana - we later became housemates - she was an ex-nun-in-training who had run away with a priest-in-training and had a baby. She was Costa Rican and quite eductaed however she refused to speak English with me - too embarrassed. But they hired her anyway, because she was Costa Rican and therefore might as well have been American.
Anyway, Adriana kind of dressed like an ex-nun, and I didn't. I definately didn't dress "like a teacher". I probrably dressed the same way I did when I was going to the disco. I wasn't much into "the covering of the flesh" at that time.
Anyway, as anticlimactic as this might be...One day a guy came up to me and said, "I want to be in the English class - but I want the pretty teacher." "Must be the other teacher," I said.
posted by Aldric Leopold at 12:45 PM
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