The crapload of work continues, but at least there's lunch

The workload to become a TEFL-certified teacher is insane -- and truthfully, I'm not sure how much teaching I plan to do now that I'm confident I can set up a massage practice as soon as I want. Our morning class was grammar review and, as a former editor, I actually enjoy this stuff, but I'm not really up on all the rules. Just like most of us English speakers, I just know what's right and wrong. I might know a little more only because I spent many years with a red pen glued to my right hand, but I still missed at least 50% of the answers when Sabrina called on me.

We also had a Quechua lesson today. Quechua is the indigenous language in Peru and it's absolutely beautiful. Jorge, our Quechua instructor, spoke nothing but Quechua and we just had to adapt -- kind of like many of the beginning English students here (and who we could potentially be teaching). The first 10 minutes or so wasn't easy, but it began to connect with us and the hour flew by. I doubt I'm going to retain it from just one lesson, but it was a great way to understand how a non-English speaker feels on his/her first day of English class.

Between grammar and Quechua, we had lunch. Greg, Sierra and I returned to the same street we visited the other day to find another cheap lunch and this time Gabriela joined us. Yesterday we went to a cafe that only sold chicken sandwiches and fruit juices. It cost 4.50 soles (about $1.50) for a huge glass of fresh juice and a hand-carved chicken sandwich (there's a lady carving the chickens in the window). Best. Lunch. Ever.



That is, until we found the next place. Right across the street from the chicken sandwich shop was a ramshackle "restaurant" with a small menu of papas rellenos (a mini mashed potato football stuffed with meat and veggies and fried) with a side of rice (which includes diced hotdog -- Peruvians love their processed meats), and a few slices of tomato. We all ordered the papas rellenos and devoured everything on the plate. Greg (who has finished many of my meals) ordered another plate, this time a stuffed and fried chili pepper. We all tasted -- sooooo good.

Our cozy little restaurant on Day 2


Papas Rellenos con Arroz (with chopped hot dog)


The "kitchen"


Back at school, we had a vocab lesson. Basically, whenever we teach we create a vocab list based on what the students don't know. You can anticipate some of the words they won't know, but not all of them. And we have to get them to understand as quickly as possible so we can continue on with the lesson. This can be easy if you have to explain what "smile" means, but not so easy when the word is "while" or "under." It's a process that gets easier with practice, but right now it sucks. So we did vocab drills today. We had more Spanish-speaking students to perform in front of and we had to randomly pull our words out of a cup. My word was "colorful." I thought I blew it big time, but Sabrina didn't seem to think so. I'm not the brightest bulb in the box when it comes to thinking on my feet, but with practice I think I'll get it down. Just don't give me a word like sternocleidomastoid (a little shout out to my massage peeps).

I stayed late at school to observe some of the other teachers in action (a requirement and extremely valuable) and was impressed by what I saw (well, at least one of the teachers). It was a "Basico Nuevo," -- essentially, it was the first day of class in Basic English 101. Alex, the instructor, was excellent. He managed the class well and by the end of the hour, the students were speaking and comprehending about 3-4 sentences in English. Good stuff.

A Catholic Priest Walks Into a Bar...
I left school around 8 and went home to change and drop my bag (carrying around my laptop all day isn't doing my shoulders much good). I headed out to San Blas to a bar/restaurant called Yerba Buena to celebrate Nikki's birthday and hear her band play. I met up with Gabriela and a few of the people who will be joining us in Pisaq this weekend for the ayahuasca ceremony. I did get one "Oh, you're the massage therapist!" which cracks me up. I've been here for less than 2 weeks and people already know who I am -- let's hope I can keep it going to bring in the clients!

Yerba Buena is a cool space -- multi-leveled, lots of lounges/couches and hammocks. A couple of us were hanging out on one of the upper levels listening to the band when 3 burly men came upstairs and sat near us. One of them started talking to me -- they were all Polish -- and since I lived in Poland (many, many years ago) for a summer, conversation (at least about Poland) came easy. Turns out my new friend is a Catholic priest (it was hard to tell, since he was drinking an enormous Cusquena beer, but apparently that's not against the rules) visiting one of his missionary friends. Yep. I kind of lost interest after that and since my friends had meandered back downstairs (birthday cake was being served) I used that as an excuse to say goodbye.

The evening was a lot of fun. I made it home by 11:30 and crashed hard. My body is still working through the session with Pria and I've got to take care, especially with the ceremony in Pisaq on the horizon and teaching the next day.