2 months

     Well, November is upon us, and with it comes time to analyze my time here.  Foremost on my mind is the fact that, as of the 6th, I have been in Guatemala for the last 2 months.  That means two months since I've had a meal without black beans and tortillas (including breakfast), two months since I've had another Vikings fan to lament the season with, and two months since I've woken up later than 5:30 am.  While I would love to report that I've accomplished something truly spectacular in the last 2 months like achieving a fluency in Spanish or beginning some awesome project that is going to change the world, that just isn't the case.  However, my Spanish does get a little better week to week and I have done some good work.  I'm finding out that my time here is more of a marathon than a 100m sprint, which is something I'm not used to.
     My big project, the hospital up at the orphanage, has gone nowhere.  I have filled out plenty of grant applications, and received plenty of very nicely worded rejection letters, but I have yet to raise one cent.  It pains me to day it, but at this point I feel like I'm working alone on a sinking ship, and I'm about to abandon this ship.  However, Sister Stephanie (a nun from CSBSJU who is staying here until the 14th) had a good idea for a project involving building and starting gardens up at the orphanage.  Hopefully I can have more success with this than the hospital.
     My greatest successes so far have been in the two side projects I have started; teaching English and math. My math lessons take place at the Ciudad de Felicidad.  One of the nuns there is in an algebra class, and hopes to one day teach math to the orphans.  My work basically consists of explaining to her the concepts that she does not understand from class.  Not overly exciting, but very difficult in that I'm trying to explain math in a foreign language. It keeps me on my toes.  The English class is a different story.  First of all, it's not an official class, just something I put together at the request of some friends and opened up to the public.  Second, while I learned math almost exclusively in classrooms and have a huge amount of experience in how math classes operate, I learned English as a small child through a process more similar to osmosis than to classroom learning.  Therefore, unlike math, I have no idea how English should be taught.  The little hints I have come from Spanish classes, the last of which I took my sophomore year of college, and the most recent intro class was in grade school.  While this hasn't made my life especially easy, I'm plugged along.  However, I've also struggled with some other aspects of teaching.  The first is that there is no white/chalk board to write on.  I've literally never been in a classroom without one.  I'm like a fish out of water.  I found a way around that by writing everything on papers that I tape to the walls, but that solution is limited by the fact that I'm pretty sure some of my students are illiterate.  I'm also finding that amongst the revolving door of students that range in number from 5 to 15, some of my students are quite good at English, while others have never spoken a word.  I'm having trouble with balancing keeping the experienced ones interested without losing the inexperienced ones.  As they say, "asi es la vida."  For now I guess I'll just try to keep my head above water and keep the students coming (I've already lost 4 "regulars").
     All in all, after 2 months, I've managed to make some friends and become quite a bit more comfortable with my life here in Esquipulas.  While I haven't done anything spectacular, everyday brings a new type of adventure, and I'm enjoying myself.
     My awkward foreign language experience of the week contains some adult content, so if you are under 18, run and get your parents to explain it to you.  As I have probably said before, the people here love teaching me new slang, the more inappropriate the better.  Today's little tidbit is a greeting that they find especially funny both for its content and for its crafty little double entendre.  The saying is "como la minifalda" which translates as "how is the miniskirt?"  The correct answer is "como la vida, cada día mas cerca del hollo"  "like life, every day a little closer to the hole" (get it? the hole can mean the grave or because the miniskirts seem to get shorter every day is can mean the... well, I hope you can figure it out).  While the pun may merely make you cringe, imagine being asked that question in the sacristy of the church described by Pope John Paul II as "the Central America capital of the faith."  Sufficiently uncomfortable to earn it's spot as this week's AWkward Foreign Language Experience (Awfle).