Comments and Shout outs!

Last night my sister Hayley brought to my attention that she's been having a really hard time posting comments on my blog. She asked me to check my settings, to see if it was an issue on my end. Turns out it was, and I've rectified the situation. Anyone can comment, with or without a google+ account. Thank you Hayley, and everyone else who reads my blog, for taking an active interest in my adventures in Haiti. It's so comforting to know you care! Julie, I really appreciate all the feedback you've been giving me along the way. I so look forward to your facebook inbox messages, so keep them coming!

Reflecting...a hated buzz word.

While the word reflection elicits an eye-roll from most B.Ed candidates at Queen's (the word is bandied about so much) it is important. I'm not a big dweller and often would rather find the solution to a problem, than focus on the misery the problem presents. That being said, there are some definite patterns in behaviour that I've noticed over time. The one that is most relevant at the moment is my tendency to retreat when I feel overwhelmed. I become apathetic and intentionally isolate myself. My friend Sarah refers to this as my "disappearing act," and got pretty good at weathering it in our 4th year at Guelph. I've often wondered if I've adopted this behaviour to avoid poisoning anyone else with my awful mood or if it is simply how I prefer to wallow. I can only take so much before I get sick of myself and find the drive to take action. I've been thinking about it a lot recently because I have a need to write honestly about my experience, and yet want to refrain from being pessimistic or whiney.

This week has definitely been a prime example. For one, I owe my sister Olivia an email of epic proportions (Beowulf style). Second, I haven't been posting consistently, because everything I draft leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.  I'm obviously at the tail end of my wallow and am clawing my way out. Most people who know me can probably attest to the fact that I am incommunicado for long stretches of time -the reasons are two-fold: a) I'm literally the worst person at keeping in touch, b) I have a hard time talking about being bummed out, unless I feel wronged or am incensed at some injustice. I'm a work-in-progress and I hope that a little self-reflection, every once in a while, will help keep that progress consistent. I was once told by an employer, that I greatly admired, that I am very self-aware, but that I have a blind-spot that consistently gets me in to trouble. Maybe if I hold up a few mirrors at the right angles, I'll successfully make that spot smaller.

Time to get out of my head now!

Driving Ms. Lutes

Drove for the first time on Saturday.  The trip went well all-in-all. Ashley was my navigator and we made our way to and from Ultimate, relishing our independence. The roads are narrow and honking is a common way to indicate you're about to come barreling around a blind corner. We made it back to the apartments just before dark, sweaty and triumphant.  It's like discovering the freedom you feel at 16, all over again. Only here there are no rules to the road, you get to know the exact parameters of your vehicle very quickly, and parking? You just pop two wheels on the curb and you're good to go. Forget right of way too. You see your opening, you take it. Or, you end up on the wrong end of a tap-tap, overflowing with people, staring at the idiot "blanc," who clearly has no business being behind the wheel.

You can read a lot in a person's stare.  It's one of my favorite things about this country, the way people unabashedly observe each other. I don't know if it's each other, so much as it is me...Either way, I take it as an invitation to stare right back. It's fascinating what we miss, while pretending not to look. Mostly, I try to read people's faces as though they were maps, and the contours of their features are landmarks by which I hope to navigate cultural barriers. I'm still trying to figure out how far a simple smile will get me. While that sounds calculating, you'd be surprised at the variety of responses I've had to one. On a scale of 1 to Kissy Faces, there is lots of room for interpretation.

As I meet new people, I get asked the same, or some slight variation of the same, question: How do you like it so far? I'm never sure if "it" refers to Haiti, school, or teaching. Either way my response is the same. All 3 have their challenges but I love what i'm doing and where i'm doing it. It's hard to explain, how quickly we adjust. Ashley recently posted a blog about this very idea, after a conversation we had in the car on the way home from work. All of sudden the sights, smells, and sounds of our environment have become common-place. I'm no longer as affected by the rubble, garbage, and poverty on the streets, because I see that it's part of a way of life that works and makes sense here. The ditch pigs and street chickens (and goats) still amuse me, but I no longer search them out every morning on the drive to school, wondering if they were slaughtered for griot the night before. This shift, I hope, is indicative of an ascension to a more integrated existence here.

I am literally drowning in marking...and questions. Between 6 English/Writing courses and Progress Report deadlines, I have enough stacks of assessment pieces to build the next leaning tower. I have nightmares that all those stacks are going to come crashing down, like some vindictive paper tsunami, and annihilate all semblance of organization I have established in my mind. I'll never be able to distinguish which assignments belong in which pile and i'll have nothing to put on my students reports. How do teachers cope? I desperately need a system. Thoughts?

Here are just a few questions waging war on my over-stimulated brain.  Hopefully, if I can verbalize them, it'll turn on a lightbulb:

1. What is an effective system for keeping my course materials together, that does not involve a three-hole-punch?
2. How do I keep track of assessment pieces, log the results, and return them, without constantly lugging sheafs of paper around everywhere I go, thus running the very likely risk of misplacing one or two? Do all my marking at school. 
3. How do I keep track of work in progress, that I collect, at various stages? Wall-mounted folder holder thingys (Dean, i'm picturing yours with envy). Should I be collecting it or should I expect students to be able to keep track of it? What is my contingency plan if a student fails to bring their work to class and therefore cannot participate in the activity?
4. How do I effectively, and easily, keep track of participation marks?
5. What is an appropriate way to give credit for informal, daily freewriting? How do I get students to reflect on their writing in a meaningful (and interesting) way?

Piti Marche à Pied et Cascades

This weekend brought on a combination of much needed sleep, work, and (thank god) exercise. Twice a week, on Tuesdays and Saturdays, we have a date at Sun Auto, what seems to be an old car dealership, to play Ultimate on the bordering fields.

After lesson planning all day, Ultimate was a definite highlight. Few people showed up, so we played 5-on-5 and ran our asses off. By the time we drove home, it was dark and the city streets were full of music, people, and the scents of griot (grilled pork) and bananes frit (fried plantains).  Port-au-Prince takes on a whole new flavour after dark, and from the interior of the car, I am abundantly aware of the fact that I am unable to truly taste it. The remainder of Saturday night was uneventful, however, as we just got hooked up with cable, courtesy of the PTA, Ashley and I spent the evening watching Liar Liar. As I slept through the usual festivities on Friday night, the weekend itself was generally fairly tame. 

We broke tradition and ventured out on Sunday (today) to do a spot of hiking. Unless we're going to school, we generally drive down the "hill" toward the city. Today, we drove up the hill, toward Kenscoff, past a plethora of marchands, motos, and amazing vistas. We've become used to driving past our destinations, and today was no exception. The problem with Haitian roads is they are narrow and packed with people, dwellings, and rubble. As a result, I am continually impressed with David's (my roommate) calm behind the wheel. Not only was he the brains behind this mission but he's also the only one of us that can drive the car. It's a lot of responsibility to take on. We had to pull a dicey three-point turn, amidst the chaos on the street.  We're so lucky to have someone around who was here last year, knows the ropes, and wants to show them to us. Anyway, here are some photos from our hike!