Miss O the Chaperone

This past weekend I was elected to go with the 11^th grade students to a camp about politics for a short retreat. Why would they send me, the 3^rd grade teacher, to chaperone this rowdy bunch of 11^th graders? Great question! It was a last minute decision to let the students go (and when I say last minute, I mean very last minute: the school decided to give the students permission on Tuesday to leave for the retreat on Thursday morning) and my classes are the easiest/most convenient ones to cover. Now, Jake did tell me that I could decline it, but I wanted to help make the trip as least inconvenient for the whole school as possible so I agreed to go. I joined a team of 3 other teachers (from various schools) to chaperone 53 students on the trip.

We left Thursday morning and right away things got interesting. They had to shove all of our supplies onto the bus so we were finding every nook and cranny to lodge suitcases, food boxes, and tents into; it would have been entirely ok if we got into an accident because there were mattresses surrounding us everywhere and cushioning our bodies on that bumpy ride. The bus overheated twice on our way to the camp. The first time we stopped it was only for a few minutes while the bus driver dumped water into the coolant hole trying to cool down the engine. The second time we had to really stop and brought our bus party out to the street while the bus driver and some of the boys decided to fix a part in the engine. We managed to push through and make it to the camp after that… but that wasn’t the last we would hear from the bus.

We were given tents to sleep in – they were Coleman tents so rather nice and not questionable or falling apart in any manner. I got my own tent and I could not have been happier about that outcome. Logically the best time to set up the tents would have been as soon as we got there so we could do it while the sun was out and put our suitcases away instantly, but this is Honduras and no one thinks ahead like that. It wasn’t until nighttime that we put the tents up. To make matters worse, all but one student had never even seen, let alone put up, a tent before. The majority of the girls just sat on their piles of tent and tarp until the boys helped them, and you had to do your best to feel out the ground for the best spot. Unfortunately, I put my tent right over and ant hill. Thankfully I only put the outer edge on the hill so they didn’t totally infest the inside, but they seemed too comfortable in that corner of my tent.

Since we were camping, we didn’t have the nicest conditions. Add the fact that we are in a rural part of a 3^rd world country and you have the makings of an interesting campground. There were toilets to use, but in order to flush them you had to fill up a bucket of water and dump it into the bowl. There were no showers (except for a single outdoor one that was reserved for the boys) but rather pilas. A pila is essentially a cement tub that everyone in this area has for laundry and/or bathing. You fill the pila with (very) cold water and then use a bucket to turn it into a shower. That was definitely an experience that I don’t need to have twice. We ate the same food for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day: beans, rice or egg, and tortillas. I will find a way to survive if I don’t eat another corn tortilla from now until 2013.

Their time there was pretty evenly split three ways: discussion groups, playing games, and dancing. Their primary reason for being there was to learn about politics. They were being educated on what it means to participate in politics, how they can be active, what is a political party, what it means to have power, etc. I believe they were all very good discussion topics and learning points for the students, especially since they are younger and live in a country where the government desperately needs to change. Before each talk they did have to complete a team-building, cooperation task. Those were fun to watch! Some of the challenges I was glad that the students, not me, were the ones being asked to tackle it because I would have been very lost and confused. My favorite part of the learning that was done at the camp was the mock elections that they ran. Three students were chosen as ‘presidential candidates’ for the camp and they had to campaign to win the votes of their peers. They gave speeches, made signs, and made radio announcements to be played over the stereo. Then all the students got to vote for the next ‘president’ of the camp. It was all very realistic! The only girl candidate won, talk about girl power!

When they weren’t in session, the kids were either playing or dancing. They played a variety of group games and I took notes for future camp activities. There was also a multitude of soccer and volley balls lying around. A few brave souls dared to swim in the pool on the campgrounds. (Interestingly enough a good amount of the students don’t know how to swim and most of those are girls.) And there was always music blaring which meant someone dancing. Here, it is frowned upon by the church to dance (essentially, if you are a Christian then you don’t dance) so the students hardly ever get the chance to. But here, all inhibitions were set aside. This was probably my favorite part of the whole weekend because they absolutely came alive when the music was playing. Boys who I had never seen show any kind of emotion before were suddenly full of joy and life and became kings of the dance floor! They were grabbing any and every girl in sight to dance with them and they danced for hours on end. The beat of the music just hypnotized everyone and you couldn’t help but sway your hips with them. One of the other chaperones is deeply religious and said he never had and wouldn’t dance, but a few songs into the first night he was light on his feet and moving around. When I asked him what happened he said, “I don’t know! The music just bit me or something!” as he did a little jig. I loved it. I got many dance lessons from the students and camp directors (because let’s be honest, what is more entertaining than trying to teach a white, stiff girl how to dance like a latina?).

We left to return to La Unión after lunch on Saturday, but that meant we had to face our on-the-fritz bus. Sure enough, fifteen minutes into the drive the bus overheated. We stopped at a creek to fill up the water jugs and pour them into the coolant valve again. We didn’t get much further than that when the bus really gave up on us. We had crossed a river (yup, drove right through the river because there was no bridge) and were starting to go up the mountain when the entire bus starting smoking – the engine and the complete underside of it. No one hesitated to get off this time. When they went to lift the hood up, it actually fell off and just lay in the middle of the road. Without a doubt the engine was not happy and smoking profusely. Our bus driver called the owner to have him send some trucks to rescue us. While we were waiting the driver tried to get it started again, but it made an awful noise and would not. He did manage to get it to start a little later with the momentum of rolling the bus backwards, but it instantly was lost in a cloud of smoke so no one dared to get back on. The trucks came to our rescue and all the students loaded themselves and their suitcases on. It was now raining at this point so while I got lucky and sat in the cab of the truck, my things were not so lucky and became soaked and covered in mud. The bus made it to the outskirts of town before breaking down again. Naturally you can’t just leave a bus broken down in the middle of the road so they attached it to the massive Ford F350 and began towing it. Doesn’t it make sense when I tell you that now the truck, weighed down with 15 students and their things, and towing a bus, began to overheat too? Who cares though, we kept going. The bus gained enough momentum to start again and drive on its own until it broke down for the final time in the middle of town. The hitched it back up to the truck and towed it the rest of the way. Nearly 3 hours later I finally made it home… wet, muddy, frightened, and kissing the ground beneath my feet… but I made it. What’s a trip in Honduras without a little adventure, huh?

this is a picture from inside the truck that was towing the bus

my oh-so muddy things when I got home

This week be praying for the patience of all the teachers. There are some frustrating changes in scheduling due to practicing and preparing for the Christmas performance, and standardized testing. We don’t really have a clear idea of when or for how long our classes will get cancelled, but we know that it will happen. Our job as educators is being put on the back burner and it’s not an encouraging feeling. Pray that we are able to persevere through it with smiles on our faces and be as patient with the administration as possible.