Learn English With Christian!

Upon traveling to study abroad in Nicaragua, I was already aware that I was going to be a student attending classes at UNAN Managua for the semester. What I did not know was that not only would I be a student during this time, but also a teacher. During our stay here, everyone in the group has to do some volunteer work in Managua to help out people in the community. We were told about various volunteer groups and what they did. We then got to choose what we wanted to help out with. I felt like I would be best suited in helping kids in school, be it assisting with studies or teaching English. Morena and I then went to this primary school (1st to 6th grade) and spoke with the administrator there over which position they needed me most. She then asked me, "Do you want to teach English to the kids?" I shrugged and said, "Sure!" She then said, "Great! Can you start tomorrow?" I again agreed and she said, "Alright! Let's go meet the kids."

 We walked into a class of about 40 kids, first graders. "Oh no, what have I gotten myself into?" I thought to myself. In primary school here when the teacher enters the class, all the students stand up and yell, "BUENOS DIAS!" and stands up. The teacher then says, "Buenos dias. Sientense por favor (please sit)" and they sit and say "Gracias!" This threw me for a loop the first time. The teacher then explained to the kids who I was and what I was going to be doing there. I then had to introduce myself, telling them I'm from the United States, that I'm in school as well, and that I was going to teach them some English. They were very excited about that. One kid then raised his hand and asked, "Is there snow there?" I told him yes and the class ooooooo'ed and another kid asked me what snow is like. I said, "It's cold, but pretty." I then introduced myself to the second and third grade class after that and we left. I hadn't taught a day in my life, I thought, and here I was having to teach little kids, in another language...

Tuesday morning I returned to the school where the administrator, Marixa, asked me, "Can you do first grade today?" I replied "Sure! Do they already know some English or nothing at all?" She said, "They already know a few words, but just refresh them." Sounds easy enough right? I enter the class, greeted by the barrages of buenos dias's and the first grade teacher then said to me, "Let me know when you're done." and walked right out the door. I was on my own. I figured today, I was going to teach how to say things like, "hello" "good morning" "goodnight" etc. I asked the kids what they do when the teacher walks into the class, and they said "buenos dias". So I then taught them how to do that whole process in English. After teaching them what 'good morning' meant and when to use it, I told them I was going to leave the class and when I walk back in to stand up and greet me in English. I walk out of class, wait, then leaped back in and they got up and screamed "GOOD MORNING!" They loved that. It turns out teaching kids is all about enthusiasm. I taught some other things like the numbers 1-10 and drew funny pictures to explain things. However, first graders have the attention span of a fly, so it wasn't long before kids were getting up or hitting each other or telling me what one kid said to the other. I just told them to sit down and listen, which only kind of worked. That was an interesting experience. I need some more fun activities in the future. After roughly 45 minutes the class was over. I had survived the first grade.

I returned to the office where after some scheduling and availability negotiations, it turns out that I can only teach on Wednesdays and that I would be teaching 4th, 5th, and 6th graders instead. This brought me slight relief. I returned on Wednesday to find out that I had become a celebrity overnight after being stormed by a stampede of kids hugging me and asking me when I would be teaching their class. I taught the 4th, 5th, and 6th graders the same greeting process in English, jumping in and out of the doorway while they yelled, "Good morning!" and "Good bye!" Since these kids were a bit older, I taught them some basic phrases like "How are you?" and "What is your name?" Many times I would be stopped and someone would ask me how to say whatever word in English or what certain song lyrics meant. This 5th grade girl raised her hand and asked "What does 'sexy bitch' mean in Spanish?" only knowing the words in English but not the meaning. I just laughed and told her not to worry about it. The 6th grade class was by far the easiest to teach. They told me they wanted to learn the alphabet, so we went through it. I realized that English is a weird language. Like, why does the letter 'E' make an 'eh' sound when the letter is pronounced 'eeeeee', or 'I' is pronounced 'ih' not 'eye'? That was hard to explain since in the Spanish alphabet, every letter is pronounced the way it sounds.

I never thought that I would be a student and a teacher at the same time during my stay here in Nicaragua. Despite being nervous about it at first, it really wasn't so bad once I got going. Never did I think that I would hear the words 'Christian' and 'profe' (professor or teacher) in the same sentence, but after a few hours of teaching, I think I can get the hang of it.

What Happens in San Juan Del Sur...

I was sitting on a park bench overlooking the beach in San Juan Del Sur on Saturday evening with sandy feet, local music blasting from someone's house, while watching an intense heat lightning storm  out over the Pacific Ocean and I thought to myself, "It doesn't get any better than this, does it?" And the answer is simple. No. No it does not.

For those who travel to Nicaragua as tourists, the two places that you can not miss are Granada for its colonial history (oldest colonial city in all of America mind you) and to San Juan Del Sur for world class surfing, beautiful beaches, and to party. On Friday, we set off from Managua in style, riding in the back of someone's friends pickup, for the three-ish hour drive to San Juan. We stopped in a few places along way to snap some pictures of the Nica countryside, which is very pretty, while passing by four different volcanoes. We arrived in San Juan and found a hostel about one hundred yards from the beach for the ridiculous price of $8 a night. The town sits inside a crescent-shaped beach with two points on either side. On the northern point, there was a 50 foot tall statue of Jesus overlooking the beach (Nicaragua's attempt at copying Rio de Janeiro). San Juan Del Sur is very small too, which was a nice relief from the chaos that Managua can be sometimes, and doesn't give off the whole Cancun/Cabo vibe like many tourist cities can. The beach in town was awesome, but the best beaches in this area are north and south of San Juan. We piled into the truck again and tore through some gnarly dirt roads about 5km north to a beach called Playa Maderas. The beach had only three amenities: a hostel that rents surf boards, a taco stand, and a bar. And let's not forget howler monkeys in the jungle. I may never leave. The place was full of the chillest of bros; long haired surfers (who make up about half of the population of San Juan Del Sur) that have begun to colonize this area for its amazing surfing. 

View from Jesus Statue

That night, we went to one of the happening bars/discos in town called Iguanas. The place was probably 90% foreigners. Although I thought this would bother me, it turns out that not very many of them were in fact American. It was mostly Europeans and Aussies with a few Canadiens here and there, so this made for some interesting conversations. Spanish with a French or Danish accent is very amusing to listen to. After Iguanas, we decided to go night swimming in the beach, which was a terrible idea. It resulted in the thievery of the girls' shorts, a shirt, and a pair of already broken flip-flops (thankfully no money) but still forced them to go back to Managua on Saturday instead of the original Sunday afternoon plan as they had no pants or shoes (don't go to the beach late at night!). Our group of seven was then cut to three as Xela, a friend Armando, and I decided to stay another day. This might have been one of the best decision I have ever made. On Saturday, we went to the beach in town and body-surfed in the huge waves. Xela and Armando and I sort of split ways that evening, so I went walking around the town and sat and watched the heat lightning over the ocean. I met this guy (ironically named 'Guy') who lived in the hostel and had his own tattoo parlor next door. Guy was South African and Israeli, a combination of nationalities that I don't think anyone can top (and the strangest of all accents when speaking Spanish). He had been traveling the world for 10 years (since he was 17), opening a tattoo parlor anywhere he went in order to make money so that he could go surfing. The guy (pun intended) loved nothing more in the world than surfing. He invited me out for some drinks at this cool hostel called the Naked Tiger. Since I had no plans, I told him "sure" and we headed out. 

 A short cab ride up into the hills of San Juan and seemingly in the middle of nowhere was the Naked Tiger, and it was like nothing I've ever seen before. It used to a huge mansion but today serves as a hostel that is only advertised through word of mouth. It had a nice pool out in front and was full of the happiest, long-haired (and least sober) Aussie, Brit and German surfer bros and bras partying and diving into the pool. The employees running the place were other backpackers that decided that they were not ready to leave quite yet. So we mingled and talked and whatnot for a little while when the music stopped all of the sudden. The bartender then picked up her bullhorn from behind the bar, let out a loud BWAAAA! sound and then yelled "EVERYONE GO TO PELICAN EYES!" The group cheered and shuffled out the door. I noticed Guy heading out as well so I followed suit. A shuttle had arrived out front and we all piled into it Nica style (which includes people on the roof obviously) and headed off for some place called 'Pelican Eyes' which thankfully ended up being back in town. It turned out to be a hotel with an awesome bar that had a DJ with a light show and a fog machine. The place was absolutely packed with, you guessed it, more Aussies and Europeans going absolutely crazy. At first, I just stood there and shook my head smiling. "No way," I thought to myself. Here I was in an awesome beach town in Nicaragua with a South African/Israeli dude I had just met a few hours before, hanging out with a bunch of hilarious Aussi and Euro surfers, partying in this awesome bar. Then that got me thinking, if some of our groups' stuff had never gotten robbed the night before, then none of this would have probably happened. Weird how the universe works. 

First visit to San Juan Del Sur: Huge Success. Next time, I'm going to try to surf.

Narrowly Avoiding Death

As you read this, you can assume one very important fact: I am still alive. I've been living in Nicaragua now for nearly a month and having traveled around Managua and a little bit elsewhere, I have observed how people go about traveling from Point A to B, be it in a car or bus, or just walking. The philosophy here is simple; try to get a close as you can to death without actually dying. I finally got to experience this first hand the other day. 

I was finished with class for the week and was getting tired of starting at my computer screen all afternoon, so I decided to go explore. I had read about this really awesome coffee place that wasn't that far from my house, so I stared at the map and bus routes beforehand for a little while (it's best not to be seen reading a map in public) and headed off. I ended up finding La Casa del Cafe next to the Mexican Embassy after about 45 minutes of walking, since the bus I ended up taking placed me nowhere near where I thought it would. The coffee shop was on the second floor balcony of a building that overlooked a small park and was surrounded by trees. I had a frozen coffee drink (which was delicious), read, and talked a little to the waitress. She told me which bus route was the correct one to get there and that the stop was very close. I left the cafe at around 6:30, which is peak hours for commuters. This meant that the buses would be jam packed. Bus 119 was no exception. 

The bus pulled up already plenty full, but the 30 something of us waiting were GOING to fit. Nicas can pack into buses in a manner that would make Japanese commuters jealous. The front of the bus was too full, so I ran over to the bus driver's window, paid for the ride, then sprinted over to the other door in the rear of the bus. The bus had already started moving so I jumped in and held onto the door for dear life. I could not sustain this position for long as the door had started to close on me. I pushed back on it, thinking I could hold it open, but nay, this bus was new and its doors were well primed to crush stupid gringos like me. I finally had made enough room between me the doorway, causing the door to spin me around and violently snap shut. I was now crushed between the door and the other passengers in front of me, but I was safe...for now. Seconds after the door had closed, we were arriving the next stop. At about 30mph, the door blew open in the same manner in which it had closed. You know that feeling you get sitting in a chair when you lean back just a little too much and fall, like you're positive that you are going to die?  This was no different. I fell backwards out of the bus and reached for the handrail in desperation. I grabbed it with one hand and my momentum caused my body swing out towards the traffic. The passengers who were getting off at the bus had already taken my previous spot on the steps, so I had to hold on outside and wait for the bus to slow down. When we slowed to about 10mph, I jumped off the bus and ran next to it while the some passengers exited and others got back on. I then had to repeat the whole process over again by jumping back onto the bus and holding onto the door, however this time I was more prepared. The door tried to smash me again once the bus had sped back up, but instead I grabbed it with one hand and shoved it behind me with the other in a furious rage. Now were even. This drew a few laughs from some of the other passengers. I had to do this for a few more stops until the bus had cleared up enough room for me to sit.

I returned home and told my host mom what had happened. She was more surprised that I had found my way around the city alone than having almost been dead on the side of some road in Managua. She just laughed at me. Either way, I now feel like i'm more part of the community here. I have successfully contributed to the complete disorder and chaos that is getting around Managua. Woot.