1 Year and 15 Days Later...

My oh my how the time flies! Did I really go a whole academic semester without updating this blog? Unacceptable! But whatevs, you all can keep up with my life on Facebook anyways, right? Well, there are a few details you might have missed out on...

My first of two semesters with Instituto Chileno Norteamericano was very successful, and if I wanted to, I really could make a career out of it, but I'd say one more semester is enough! I gotta get back to the fam!!! Anyways, I taught a nice variety of classes, ranging in age level, class size, and location. On top of that, I spearheaded an end-of-semester event for the Children's Program at one of the branches, and that in itself was an enormous success. Such events weren't even fathomed before, but after all of the positive parent feedback, I think it could become a standard event throughout the entire institute.

I am now between semesters, waiting out the dry period. The teacher's union, which I decided to join, is currently in the middle of contract negotiations with the institute, and it's also winter break, so there are only a few classes available right now. I'm getting over a nasty little cold, so it's probably better I don't have a heavy workload at the moment. Things should start pickin' up again within the next few weeks, and in the meantime, I can play my charango and guitar (and the other instruments I've accumulated), read a book or two, and perhaps do a few private lessons on the side here 'n there.

Melissa and Trish are now long gone. *Tear* Melissa departed in May, and Trish and I managed to throw one more rager before she caught her July 11 flight back to Jersey (picture 60 people in a 2 bedroom flat). So now I'm holdin' it down solo for a few weeks before a new roommate, Dejavier Spellier from Indiana, helps continue the legacy. We'll both stay in the infamous 6-C until January, at which point I'll have to make the decision if I'm gonna stay here until March, or make my way home. Norte offers a vacation bonus for working an entire year with them, which is incentive to stick around til March, but on the other hand, I'm not sure how much work will be available during the Summer months. It could go either way, so I'll just have to wait and see. If I stayed through March, I'd probably end up couch surfing for a few months to save some dough, but again, everything's pending! That's the way we roll down here in Chile!

Sending all my love to everyone! I think about home a lot these days. I've definitely made Santiago my dwelling, but my heart has begun yearning for it's true home, especially considering the fact that my family has grown so much since I've been gone! If anyone wants a postcard, hit me up with your address and I'll hook it up.

Besos!

Ben

Summer Journal Entries

Alright beautiful readers, here's a glimpse of what I did this past summer. The entries begin in late January because I left my first journal on a street corner in Mar Del Plata, Argentina like the fool I sometimes am. Self-deprecating humor is always funny; I gotta take advantage of my occasional miscues and blunders! I pared down some of the language a bit for my easier-to-offend readers, but it's basically uncut, raw, in-your-face Benjamin, so hold on to your monitor, dive in, and enjoy!

January 22

Philly Blunts and I at the Che Lagarto Hostel lounge, listenin' to reggae, restin' our feet, and sippin brew'n naranja after a day of walkin' thru Buenos Aires. Half way, mas o menos, thru the B.A. experience, and I am in love with the place, with Argentina in general, really. Back to today's story, I'd like to rewind to last night, a nice soiree of crawlin' pubs, debaucherizin', b.s.'n, dancin', and fraternizin'. Everything came to a temporary respite when Blunts and I stumbled into our dorm room at 6 in the mornin', but sleep is for the grave and by 11 a.m. we were up and at 'em, swallowing a breakfast of creal and bread 'n butter, re-uppin' for another day o walkin' thru the city, destination: Cemeterio de la Recoleta, eternal resting place of the big-time personajes de la historia Argentina--Evita Duarte, Victoria Ocampo, El Toro Salvaje de la Pampa, among others. Alessandra from Brasil joined the gringo train (what a nice, charming gal she is), as well as Carlos, who has just arrived from Santiago. We walked down Chacabuco, zigzagged here 'n there, and arrived around midafternoon. Mausoleums up the ying yang, it was easy to get lost in the maze of concrete.

January 25

At the money exchange embracing the sweltering madness--it's hot 'n humid!!! We're in Rosario, Argentina now, a midway point (well, 1/4 point) on our way to Iguazu Falls (Cataratas). We're at the chronological half-way point of our summer travels. We bid farewell to Jon, Lee's bro, a few days ago, and Carlos Ramirez has officially been initiated into our crew. Him 'n I will most likely be returning to Santiago together (he's a Rancaguin~o currently living in Santiago). There are many beautiful women; wherever I go it's guaranteed I'll fall in love. Lee 'n Andrew give me a lot of flack or going crazy for any woman I see, but Carlos just says, "Hey man, you're a romantic." It's true. Today we're going to a beach off of El Rio Parana, which eventually flows to B.A. and empties into the Atlantic Ocean. There are supposed to be many a beautiful lady to observe, so I should get my fill. I don't know what it is--perhaps I'm at a hormonal crest, perhaps it's the per capita hotness of women in this country, or something in the water, but I've been a straight up manimal as of late! Easy does it, Benja!

January 25, evening

CHINESE

ren=man Ren 'n Stimpy

ben=tronco Yo soy un tronco

fei=to fly You gotta have faith to fly

zhong=difficult a zhong song

gao=tall Yao is gao

xia=abajo Xiabajo-ya abajo

yue=moon yooe: mun

mu=tree a cow xia tree

ri=sun "ri" of sunlight

January 26

It's Tuesday morning in Rosario, and the fearsome foursome of Carlos, Dealy, Lee 'n me are sacando la vuelta in the hostel (La Casona de Jaime 2). Last night was spent cooking dinner (a delicious chicken salad with rice and vegetables) and hanging out in the commons area outside in the kitchen, where Carlos 'n I talked about life, relationships, and then had a language exchange with Lois from Sao Paolo (we learned pescozo-neck; joelho-knee; pe-foot; among others, such as knife, which sounds like the f-word, and spoon, which sounds like the chilean f-word with sexual connotation. Who knew silverware could be so racy? Later on Iris, Lois' friend, awoke from her slumber to watch the Australian Open semi-finals, and I decided to join her--well, I was more convinced by Carlos who was trying to be my wingman. I was in fact attracted to Iris, who even dropped some suggestive language during our conversation, but I couldn't muster up the effort to pull the trigger. Today, we leave for Iguazu Falls.

The Girl from Guadalajara

She talks so softly, never forced;

Her verse spiced with an accent

Complementing her brown, Spanish eyes

A smile reveals her friendly nature,

Welcoming my presence

And easy conversation

I play it cool, but it's difficult

To keep myself from declaring my adoration

For this girl I barely know

I'm addicted to romance

(Even if it's invented--painted

On the canvas of my mind, projecting my soul's desire)

Oh, that my fantasies manifest by happenstance!

Play my cards as they come,

with the girl from Guadalajara

(...and I never saw her again, haha!)

January 27

CHINESE

"The triple 4"

(4) sound formations

(4) tones

(4) types of characters

SOUND FORMS

1. Vowels and vowel blends--> ou* ai ei

2. Consonant+vowel-->"zhou"

3. Consonant+vowel blend-->"xia"

4. Consonant+vowel (blend)+n/ng--> "ren," "shang," or +er in rare cases

*ou isn't a blend, technically

TONES

ex: "ma" can be...

1st tone: mother

2nd tone: cannabis

3rd tone: horse

4th tone: to insult

Sorry mom.

4 TYPES OF CHINESE CHARACTERS

1. Pictographic-visual representation (only a small amount)
2. Symbolic-conveys both concrete and abstract concepts (more frequent)
3. Symbolic combinations-two separate symbols combine to create new meaning.
4. Phonetic+context compounds (80% of characters). (A) Phonetic element-represents a word that might not be the exact idea, which is made apparent by the... (B) CONTEXT, which all depends on who, what, where, when, why, and how. (C) "Radicals" are characters that reveal context.

January 26, evening

It's 11 something and here we are at Che Lagarto Puerto Iguazu, and Deals just rested his manhood on my shoulders. We started today by arriving 3 hours late to P.I., after which we ambled to this crappy hostel (more on that later). We went to the tri-country place, ate lunch, and then Carlos and I checked out Arepuco, an eco-agro-tourist trap that was actually pretty cool. The highlight of my experience there was talking to a Guarani guy (the Guarani are the first-nation people native to this region), who told C. and I about the decimation of his people (nothing new there), and also taught us a few phrases--"au-che-vete" (hello/greetings) and "hai-e-bete" (thank you). Then we grabbed some groceries, went back to Che Lagarto, where I cooked dinner in the crappiest conditions ever, and got flack from an Israeli girl who said I made "shit rice." Whatever. Anyways, we played cribbage after dinner (Carlos' first game ever), and I got a little tipsy drunk, which brings me to the end of this entry.

February 2

I'm having breakfast--yerba mate and a pastry--at Hostel Ilque in Salta, Argentina. A few happenings since my last entry... First, we stopped in Corrientes for a day, a half-way point between P.I. and Salta. It reached 40 centigrade that day, and we were absolutely miserable. We finally boarded our bus at 6 p.m., and our dinner was 3 cheese sandwiches, much to our chagrin (esp. Lee). I didn't even bother with 'em (I had just had 4 empanadas at the terminal anyways). We arrived in Salta the next morning, and I was a little worried about the availability of lodging here due to rainstorms and flooding in Bolivia, but sure enough the first place we tried--Hotel Italia, out first hotel on our trip--had a room for us. That day, the 31st of January, we ambled around downtown--Plaza 9 de Julio, Peatonales Alberdi y Florida--and had lunch at a decent establishment whose name I forgot. The following day, we switched to a hostel (so we could cook our own food), decided to axe Bolivia because of inclement weather, and went to San Lorenzo, where we took a pleasant nature hike through Las Yungas, a pretty rad ecosystem place. Next stop: San Pedro de Atacama!

Untitled Travelling Poem

by Ben Westlund

Travelling four deep

Making our continental rounds

Arriving, digging, departing,

Repeat (and everything in between)

Nothing is for sure, certainly

Flexibility is paramount

Patience optimizes experience

"The greats let the game

Come to them."

And the game is great

Never a moment that is dull

Nor unbelieveable

Just there--happening

Realities unfolding

February 3

Currently waiting at customs in San Pedro, and it's slower than molasses--the opposite of my defecating on the bus ride (know how bottles' air pressure changes with altitude? Now apply that phenomenon to my colon about to explode). I would say the experience ranks in the top 5 of Ben Westlund's stickiest situations (luckily for me, no pun intended!). I'm not going to disclose too many details, but I shat in a plastic bag (nearly filled the thing up) and the t.p. was questionable. It was not fun. Anyhow, it's my second time in San Pedro de Atacama and I'm excited for it, having reminisced a bit upon entering the town limits. I'm hoping to see the ALMA telescope (multinationally-funded radiotelescope--cool) and hang out more with Danielle and Lucy, two interesting people we met earlier in our travels who we've crossed paths with on a few occasions.

February 5

Laying low at our new hostel (we've stayed in two so far), trying to recuperate from yesterday's bikeride bonanza. It began at around 12:30, when we rented mountain bikes and raced off to see La Pukara, which used to be an atacamen~o castle where merchants stayed during their travels along the Inca trade route. After that, we zipped a few more hundred meters to see a memorial honoring Hector Pumarino Soto (1901-2001), who was an academic who wrote extensively about atacamen~o culture. After buying provisions for another delicious pasta primavera alfredo dinner (and dropping it off at Hostal Nuevo Amanecer), we bought some water and set off for La Valle de la Luna. Before reaching our final destination for the day, we biked to Death Valley and took a shortcut around a giant gravel plateau to reconnect with the road to Valle d l Luna. By the time we reached the entrance, Dealy had bailed (citing the ridiculousness of paying 2000 pesos to watch the sunset), we had biked uphill, and Lee hurtin' from cramps and sore hips. We left our bikes at a checkpoint and hiked the final 2k to La Estacion de la Duna, which was where we got a nice view of the valley and the sunset, which didn't quite boast the colors I loved so much when I was here in September, but was lovely all the same. We made it back to our bikes at 8:45 p.m., which gave us 45 minutes to return them to the rental shop on time. I booked ahead of Carlos and Lee immediately, cruising downhill without a headlamp or light, which made the entire ride pretty nerve-racking. All 3 of us, thankfully, made it back by 9:25, thus avoiding a late-return fine that we wouldn't have been able to pay in the first place. We got some more dinner food, grabbed the cream we left at our previous hostel for the alfredo sauce, went "home," made a bomb din and called it a night.

January 6

Today we left the hostel and will finish our stay in San Pedro with Gabrielle "Beta" Betancourt, Carlos' buddy. Gabrielle lives in Ayllu (which means "poblacion" in local speak*), where he has a parcel of land, complete with a corn plot, chicken coop, and herd of sheep! Beta took Andrew and I with him to show us how he moves the flock from the corral to the grazing area. It was awesome.

The History of _____________ in 43 Words

by Ben Westlund

Amidst the chaos,

Forces collaborate;

Matter gathers;

Ancient and mysterious marvels

Propagate new mysteries to behold;

Cycles embed reality;

Reality defines and refines law;

Law governs existence;

Existence antagonizes existence;

Thus perpetual mystery and chaos

In a neverending unfolding

Of this process we call _________.

That's My Jam

Wakin' up to a fresh new day

Thinkin' 'bout the things comin' my way

No expectations, but infinite standards

Like water, my energy meanders

People, places, and events

Light, sounds, textures & scents

All unfolding--too fast to process

What it all means I could never guess

But I love every moment good 'n bad

Everything in between it's al rad

That's my jam 'cause it is what it is...

February 11

As the road unfolds

The stories untold

Approach my mind's landscape

Which, like the barren desert plain

And vegetation seeking rain,

Patiently waits.

February 14

Happy Valentine's Day! This weekend was nice--I love the beach here in Iquique, where I tossed mad disc with some local kids, eager to learn the ins n outs of the sport, and with Barbara :) (she's cool). Also made some good friends in Tanja, Antonio the Swiss paraglider, and others (like Melanie, Tanja's kiddo--sooo cute). Today, we head to Arequipa, Peru, where we'll be able to camp at La Reserva Nacional de Las Salinas for $1 a day, which we are excited for after spending so much gosh darn money in Chile! We say farewell to Carlos today, who has to cut his travels short to return back to work. Now we're 3 for the first time on this trip, we have 2 1/2 weeks left, and it's going down.

February 21

Just about to begin an 18 hour jam from Arequipa to Lima. Arequipa turned out to be pretty uneventful for all three of us because we caught giardia. That being so, the last 3 days have been spent lying in bed, watching the winter olympics and comedy classics (i.e. Fletch and Spies Like Us) on the tube, and also venturing out every once in awhile to hit the grocery store and grab a bite to eat. This is the final 10 days of my trip, during which I will enjoy Lima as much as my body permits.

February 28

That's Love--a meditation dedicated to Axel Dale and Chloe Westlund

by Ben Westlund

Didn't think you'd arrive so soon

But we've been waitin' many moons

So glad you're here

Even though I'm far away

I know I'll see you someday

That much is clear

And when we meet for the first time

Emotions swellin' within

An energy that was always there

Shall once again begin

That's love

When your cousin comes along

You'll both be singin' life's song

What a lovely tune

Your parents'll be so proud

As they listen to your soul's sound

Resonating in their heart's room

And just in case you sing off-key

They'll make sure you rehearse

'Cause you know they'll be there for you

For better or for worse

And that's love

So many things I wanna say to you

But words don't always suffice

All of life's complexities

Won't always be nice

Storms will be weathered

No matter the swell

And in the end I know my friend

That you'll be able to tell

That's love

Some day we'll all be old

Many stories'll have been told

Laughs shared 'n tears shed

We'll sit 'n wonder how time went past

Why do years gotta fly so fast?

Infinite moments'll have fled

Our kids'll be all grown up

Startin' families of their own

The cycle shall begin afresh

And yet we've always known

That's love

March 5

I've been gone for two months, and here I am on a bus, after 30 long and uncomfortable hours, returning to Santiago! I can't help but smile as I approach the metropolis. I am happy to have a place to call home again, to see my roomies Mel 'n Trish again, to ride the Metro again, to start work again, and so much more! My travels were life-changing, I saw a lot and roamed a lot, but now, at long last, I am home!

A Glimpse Into My Work Last Semester

I told you there'd be more to come! I wrote this report about my experience in Paine, which will be part of a manual that EducaUC, the network of schools that Paine is a part of, asked me to write to assist future TIPS in their work experience. I threw in a little prelude, too.

Naturally as human beings, we relate new experiences to old ones. When I think of an new workplace, I draw a few real-life analogies. I relate working in a new place to joining a choir, or to joining a sports team. In both instances, you are working cooperatively with the other participants to reach a particular objective. In a choir, everyone must be in sync with one another, singing the correct notes and keeping proper rhythm, to create a pleasing musical performance for people to enjoy. On a sports team, players must also be on the same page, agreeing on strategies, encouraging each other, and trusting each player's abilities both on and off the field, so that the team might win a given match. Don't these ideas seem fitting for a successful work environment? Shouldn't all its participants be working together toward a set of outcomes? And why do people join choral ensembles, sports teams, or other groups? Finally, I ask the reader: why have you come here to work as an English teacher? Ponder these questions, and develop others to consider, as you complete your work this school year.

My experience at San Francisco de Paine

As I began my work at San Francisco de Paine, a lot of people asked me, "What are you expectations for this semester?" My reply was that I had no expectations whatsoever; whenever I try something new, whether it be working in a new place, trying new foods, or listening to a new music artist, I prefer an approach that is cleansed of any expectations, standards, or norms that I desire to be met. Perhaps my frame of mind is due to my recent exploration of Buddhist spirituality; or it might be my own way of protecting myself from disappointment (I loathe being disappointed). Either way, I wanted a clean canvas upon which I would paint my experience, and the end result was a masterpiece that I will have forever mounted in my soul's gallery.

Before I met anyone in the Franciscan community, I used one of my final days of "summer vacation" (keep in mind I had just came from the Northern Hemisphere) to visit the campus for the first time. When I arrived, nobody was there except for Nino and Carlos, the groundskeepers. So I put my signature in the teacher's book for fun, and then took a stroll around the site to get a feel of where I'd be at. As I stood in the shaded courtyard and enjoyed the pleasing aesthetic of the Andes mountains in the distance, I knew I was in a special place.

The people who work for CSFP make up an exceptional mosaic of personnel. Each person takes on responsibilities unique to their job and character. Everyone works with an objective in mind, which in turn affects the learning community, and that is paramount. But my appreciation for the teachers goes far beyond their work. Moving beyond professionalism, any teacher, administrator, or staff member who has been involved with CSFP can resonate with a sense of comraderie and friendship that livens up coffee breaks, meals, and general leisurely happenings on and outside of campus.

The actual process of teaching at CSFP was never a disappointment. Like the teachers, the students have a love for learning that made my days fly right by. I was always treated with respect by my students, and they never thought twice to give me a smile, a hug, or a bite of their snack. Working alongside David Brull and Maritza Vera, from planning, to preparation, and to execution, I always felt ready to teach classes and successful at the end of the day. The classes themselves were engaging, inspiring, and most importantly, fun. I can only hope to encounter as much success later in my career as I did in my English classes in Paine.

One friday night, around a month into the semester, David Brull, a seasoned San Francisco veteran, called me to say, "You are a part of us, Ben!" He rambled on for awhile, his lantern a tad lit, but he kept repeating that phrase, that I was a part of CSFP, and although I couldn't stop laughing at his bantering, I assured him the feeling was mutual. Later that night, by pure coincidence, but perhaps symbolically as well, my roommates and I boarded the metro, only to find David on his way home for the evening! David and I made a big scene, had a good laugh, my roommates introduced themselves, and within a few minutes we parted ways. Looking back, however, I consider that night's events a meditation that tells just how close people can be to each other, and how easily and naturally that can be accomplished when those people mean well and know what it means to make a person feel loved. I end this brief report of my experience at CSFP by expressing, once again, my gratitude to all of Paine's contributing members--faculty and staff, students, and parents--who made my semester with their community an experience I will never forget.

Yo Doy Gracias

Ok a heads up before y'all read this blog: I actually started writing it around Thanksgiving and never got around to finishing it. Sooo, it's been collecting dust in my draftbox, hiding from all of you! After I retrofit my blog with this post, I'm going to share few journal entries and other stuff I wrote over the summer, which wasn't a ton, but will give you a nice idea of what I was up to the past two months. Enjoy!

In honor of the Thanksgiving season, I'd like to dedicate this blog post to the things I am thankful for in my life. Living in another country--thousands of miles away from my family and the everyday comforts I once took for granted--has once again (mind you I had a brief stint studying abroad in Guatemala) shed light on these things.

Lately I've been reading Jack Keruoac, which may lend a feeling of spontaneity and stream of consciousness to my writing. What an interesting personaje he is! My interest in his life began when I picked up an old copy of On The Road, which belongs to my buddy Tipton from Georgia. First of all, the book itself has an intriguing vibe to it. It's really old; the pages are as brittle as brown fallen leaves in autumn; you can smell the passing of years as you flip through the chapters. As I held that rusty paperback for the first time, I could tell it had seen a lot, which is a fitting personification for such a book. Maybe I'm biggin' up this work more than some would like. In fact, Tipton himself said he hates Keruoac. Nonetheless, I love it, and if my readers aren't down with Jack, then they can skip down a few paragraphs and read about me being sick.

Al continuar, as I read of Sal Paradise's (really Keruoac's) exploits with his friend and tragic hero Dean Moriarty (Keruoac's pen name for Neal Cassady), travelling impulsively across the vast and horrible continent--From Jersey to New York to San Francisco (Frisco) to LA back to Jersey then to Virginia and once again to Frisco only to return to New York before roaring south to Mexico, with numerous stints in Denver in between--I kept picturing a 20th century Don Quixote of sorts (which I am planning to read in Spanish by the way), in search of his true love, his doncella, whose role is played by the very road he travels on, endlessly beckoning, forever opening the expanses of America and all its people and ideas. It made me yearn for a similar experience this summer in my South American continental hazañas (exploits).

Is anyone else over this swine flu bologna? While duking it out with my own respiratory ailment in November, mi mama sent me some electronic literature about H1N1, which led me to read further about the latest "world health crisis." After dabbling in local health periodicals, reading blogs, scanning online articles, I have come to the conclusion that H1N1 is a product of evolution just like everything else (as unnatural as that evolution may be), and that combatting a potential pandemic will not be up to a vaccination (and I could go on for days about the H1N1 vacuna), but to each family and/or individual's initiative in living a healthy life. In giving thanks for my own health, I shall cite three central tenets to well-being: diet, exercise, and happiness.

"Careful how you season and prepare your food," says M-1 of Dead Prez. I'd like to go back in time to my adolescent lunch eating habits for a moment. In sixth grade, my lunch consisted of a bag of chips, cookies, and a Surge--the precursor to today's "energy drinks." In seventh and eighth grade, my school outsourced Pizza Hut and Chick-Fil-A to serve us lunch, so nothing really changed regarding nutritional value there. And for virtually all four years of high school, I ate from the Wendy's dollar menu. Today, I ask how I let myself make those decisions while resolving to learn from my mistakes. Although I now have difficulty visiting Santiago's bigger fresh-produce markets (have I mentioned how ridiculously busy I am lately?) there is still plenty of legit goodies to be found at nearby corner stores and local fruit 'n veggie stands (right now (December) there's a bunch of delicious cherries, peaches, and apricots to be disfrutado--mmmmmmm). And again I highlight the joy of living with two great roomies, Mel 'n Trish, who enjoy cooking as much as I do! Oh the meals we've created...

On the 28th of November, we hosted our own little Thanksgiving banquet--potluck style (the older Chileans, los ancianos, call it a malón). We invited a bunch of close friends we'd made over the last 5 months, and each person contributed something tasty to share. Excuse me as I briefly ride this human tangent of thankfulness, for isn't food a sacred coefficient in the formula of a healthy society? Shouldn't it be something we cherish? Why did Abraham Lincoln start our beloved holiday of Thanksgiving amidst the chaos and misery of a horrible civil war, anyways? Could it have been something he and others on his political team saw in the idea of food and our connection with it? And its way of connecting us with our planet and each other, perhaps? Claro que si! What worries me more and more lately is our culture's conceptual representation of food--how we understand its role in our lives, how we go about choosing our food, etc. It seems that food, something so precious and important, has just become another involuntary, automatic, fabricated commodity in the well-oiled machine of consumerism. Crank 'em out, pack 'em up, and disperse 'em; cop it, consume it; repeat. Y claro, I'm defitinitely not an exception to this "rule," I but I would like to see a departure from our current state of food consumption, and perhaps a return to the idea that food connects all of us and needs to be urgently cherished and protected, almost as if it were an endangered species. From the moment a drop of water hits the earth to quench a plant's thirst to the moment a plate of food rich in time-transcending nutrients sits before a panorama of smiling faces, our food has a story to tell! As I sat down with my homies that evening, admiring the spread of colors and flavors ready to dance yummy in my tummy Yo Gabba Gabba style, I gave infinite thanks for all the naturaleza, gente, y vida that helped bring those nutrients to my body, mind, and soul, sustaining my self and contributing to my contribution.

Maintaining an active lifestyle has always been very important to me. Growing up in Denver, working for the Department of Parks and Recreation, provided tons of opportunities to get out 'n about, move 'n shake, and share my love of playing with others. (Shout out to all my Summer in the Parks crew!) In the Santiago metropolis, it's been tough to stay active at times these past months. There are a lot of parks, but with little open space (they're more like pedestrian malls). Many days this past semester, I'd come home at 7 p.m., cook dinner, and by the time I washed my dishes it would already be bedtime. I did find opportunities to get my heart racin' and body movin' as the months passed, however. Playing soccer, tag (which they call pinta--paint), and capture the flag with my students during recreos was a good start, but my body yearned for more. I started playing in the weekly soccer game after school, which was a nice weekly workout, but not enough, so I began doing weekly jogs with Melissa in Parque Bustamante as a supplment. Later on in the semester, I started tagging along with David, Guille, and Jean, my compañeros de trabajo, for weekly matches of baby football, a version of indoor soccer that is very popular all over Latin America. As the weather warmed up, my gringo buddies and I started hitting up the pick-up basketball sessions in Parque Araucano in Las Condes (a neighborhood many call "The Other Chile" for its posh, modern buildings and upper income tax brackets). My buddy from Teaching Chile, Zach, connected me with an ultimate frisbee club in Santiago, and I played in a hat tournament (teams selected at random) on Thanksgiving day. Little by little, I was able to bring myself back to a level of activeness that I had always enjoyed back home. This coming year, I am hoping to build on this; I am looking to become more involved with the ultimate community in the greater Santiago metro area, and will also be starting up an ultimate workshop at Colegio San Francisco de Paine, where I worked last year.

And finally, happiness, which I believe boils down to one thing: mix it up, baby! Whether it's my food, my leisurely activities, or the people I surround myself with, implementing variety in all spheres of my life, I have found, is paramount. Yes, true, having some consistency and predictability in life is nice--some would call it a source of stability and comfort--but c'mon, a life chock full of the s.o.s. day after day? No es justo! Here's a few ways that I've mixed it up that might interest my readers... For one, I've decided to adopt a popular Chilean hairstyle--the choco, aka the (euro)mullet, aka the faux-hawk, aka business in the front and party in the back! Many chuckle, but you'd be surprised to know many people, even professionals like doctors and lawyers, have been known to don the style...ok, many of you are probably laughing even harder now. Trish, a woman of many talents, had her hand at cutting her first mullet, and I commend her efforts, as the result was a success: carefully-done layering in the front to complement my lazy locks in the back. Niiiiiice.

Secondly, I've expanded my musical horizons! Many of you know I picked up the guitar about a year back. Well, now I play two instruments (three if you include my voice)! After the school year expired in Paine, I was invited to a "teacher's breakfast," which turned out to be a Ben Westlund farewell, a very thoughtful gesture. After some of my cohorts and I shared our meditations, they presented me with a parting gift: a charango! A charango is like a mix between a ukelele and a mandolin, and produces a very bright sound. Originally fashioned by first nation peoples on the Bolivian altiplano from armadillo shells and horsegut (the snooty Spanish colonists didn't let the "heathens" play their sacred instruments), they are now made of wood and nylon strings. Going back in time a bit, Guillermo brought his charango to school one day, taught me a few chords, and let me fiddle around with it. I fell in love with the instrument, and I believe it was his idea to give me such an awesome gift. My charango accompanied me throughout my travels (oh by the way this is Ben 2010 narrating now), and during the past two months I've managed to learn nearly all its chords! I'm excited to share this beautiful instrument with all of you when I get back!

I end this installment with a final meditation of thanks: for everyone who poured out their support, concerns, and prayers after the earthquake in the fifth, sixth, and metropolitan regions of Chile. Although was far away from the events as they unfolded, I was also very anxious to learn more about the state of affairs where a lot of my friends were in Santiago, as well as the dicey situations in coastal towns affected by the tsunamis, such as Concepcion, Pichilemu, Boyeruca, Constitucion, and many others. A few have shown interest in becoming more involved in the relief efforts in Chile, as well as Haiti. Aside from the obvious option of opening your wallets, I would strongly recommend looking into organizing food and clothing drives and, or course, reading about people's experiences during the quake, the aftershocks (over 200!), the tsunamis, and the aftermath.

More to come, folks. Keep your compys, lappys, and smartphones ready! -B

Trabajo, Vacaciones, y La Vida en General

Allow me to begin this post with an apology--disculpas. It's been nearly a month since my last post, which is pretty weak. Looking on the bright side, I have tons of things to tell y'all about! So let's get to it!


Everything's going splendid with mi trabajo...with one exception: my salary barely pays the bills! I make the rough equivalent of $500 USD per month, which I thought would be able to support my relatively modest lifestyle out here. Then, to my dismay, expenses began stacking up faster than I could pull out my wallet, and then my debit card, until last week, finding myself in financial dire straits, I said, ¨¡Basta (enough)! It's time to start looking for another pega (that's a good Chilenismo--job).¨ And so, as soon as I returned from my trip to San Pedro de Atacama and Antofagasta (which I will talk about shortly), I contacted Señora Rosario V., the directora of Instituto Chileno Norteamericano, which is the largest English institute in the country with an impressive network of campuses and participating schools and businesses. I have just received confirmation of my employment with ¨Norte,¨ as many folks call it here, which begins in March of 2010. Not only will I be doubling my sueldo mensual, monthly wage, but these guys will also insure me and hook up three weeks vacaciones at the end of my gig, which will last around one year (I will now return around January-Februaryish 2011 instead of July). Pretty tip-top, I'd say!


Now that I've been confirmed as an employee for the 2010 school year, I must abandon my contract with Colegio San Francisco, which I am not looking forward to. When I broke the news to my boss about my desire to move on, she began scrambling to try and keep me there for the rest of my expected time, saying she would try to broker an additional 100.000 pesos per month from the school itself (I am payed by EducaUC, which is a part of Universidad Católica) and work to comp my transportation costs, which was validating, yet despite her, and many others, wanting to try and keep me there, I need to do what I want to do while I'm here so that I may accomplish my personal and professional goals. A wise woman, my sister Abby, recently told me, ¨Ben, you're going to find yourself in positions where people will be drawn to to you, and will want to be a part of your life, but it won't be right for you, and when that happens, and when people try with all their might to keep you in their life, you need to muster up the strength to say no to them.¨ I think this is one of those times, and I thank you, Abby, for having given me that advice this past July.


It will be a difficult time saying goodbye to the people at San Francisco at the end of the year. I have come to love the people there dearly, and I feel they love me, too. David Brull, one of my co-teachers, continues to be one of my closest friends in Chile, but I also have a close relationship with Guillermo, one of the gym teachers (that's right, one of four gym teachers--can you believe that?), as well as with several of my students. Guillermo, or Guille, is basically a Chilean Ben Westlund. We see eye to eye on a lot of things, from philosophy to politics to education. There's never a dull moment with him, either. He has a great sense of humor and never passes up an opportunity to joke around. En realidad, really, that's how it is with everyone I work with at CSFP. There's such a relaxed atmosphere, yet it's balanced with collegiality and professionalism, and I am so grateful to have been a part of it.


Some other noteables include Christian, the music teacher, and Etienne and Macarena, two other gym teachers. I really appreciate Christian's musical talents, and he's a great teacher, too. I enjoy sitting in on his classes when I have the chance. Before I left for the Dieciocho de Septiembre--Independence Day--vacations, I approached him with my desire to sing the Chilean National Hymn (not an anthem--look it up) to commence La Festival de La Chilenidad, the Chilean Heritage Festival, on September 26. I wanted to do this because at the Music Festival earlier that month, after singing some Beatles and Kansas jams to everyone's enjoyment, I was asked to sing one more song, and for some reason I sang the American National Anthem, which I now sort of regret. Therefore, learning and performing the Himno Nacional de Chile was my way to make up for that. Christian gave me all the guitar chords so I could practice over break, and helped me master the specific style in the days leading up to the festival, which was important because many older Chileans in particular are very sensitive about the song. Apparently, I did well; I was approached by a bunch of older people after the festival who told me how much they enjoyed my rendition. Many were touched to witness an extranjero (foreigner) singing their national song.


Etienne, or Eti, is very charismatic and funny, and to be honest I'm hopelessly in love with her, but it's never going to happen because she's married with kids. At least she likes to coquetear, flirt, so that's enough for me! Right now we're choreographing a group dance that we will be performing at this week's school spirit festival. We are Alianza 2: Los Hippies. There are three alliances, comprised of teachers, students, and staff, who will be going head-to-head in a series of competitions ranging from the dance-off to capture the flag (captura la bandera). Anyways, I always have a great time with Eti. Maca is also super legit, and also married with kids. She teaches a basketball taller (workshop) every Wednesday, which I of course crash on a regular basis. The woman can ball, too! She's not afraid to throw her weight around in the paint, and she knows how to share the rock, which I admire.


I'd like to highlight just a few students, lest I write for hours on end! In primero básico, first grade, I have a few faves: Benjamin, Lukas, Florencia, and Josefa. Benja and Lukas are some whippersnappers, but gosh are they clever little dudes. They crack me up daily. Florencia is a trip to talk to. She seems like she's already entered high school when you hear her; very confident in the way she carries herself. Josefa is the sweetest thing to exist since sugar, and she loves learning, so I can't complain there. There is another Florencia in segundo básico whose father is from Canada, so she speaks better English than me, and she amazes me constantly with what she is intellectually capable of. Fast forwarding to medio, high school, we have Javiera and Tomás (primero medio--freshmen), Enric and Camila (tercero medio), and Valentina and Diego (cuarto medio). (Segundo medio is sophomore.) All of these students are amazingly capable as learners and leaders. The gifts--dotes--that they contribute on a regular basis (and I can say this for many others as well) invigorate the life of the school. They all have incredible amounts of potential, particularly Camila and Valentina. Camila, according to David, has shot up from a beginner to arguably the best English speaker in her grade in less than three years. The way Valentina commands a given group of peers with her presence is unrivaled; very confident and intelligent. I think she'll either end up being a teacher, lawyer, or entrepreneur.


Recently, Chile celebrated its Bicentenario (Bicentennial), which falls on the 18th of September, but one date I really find interesting is the 1973 coup d'etat, which shares the 11th of September with the U.S. as one of the most tragic days in recent world history. I can't help but visualize a room full of [plural explitive] somewhere in Langley, VA discussing the best possible way to demoralize and defeat a people: ¨How about we orchestrate a coup and usher in an era of tyranny, injustice, and horror, and let's do it the week before they celebrate their independence. Brilliant!¨ Okay, my ranting is over. However, it should be mentioned that gringos are strongly encouraged to avoid any demonstrations on the 11th, and although I didn't see anything too crazy, I felt a little tension in the air that week without a doubt.


Getting back on track, Chile's Independence Day, El Dieciocho (the eighteenth), is widely touted as one of the largest and craziest carretes (another Chilenismo meaning ¨party¨) in South America, perhaps second to Carnaval in Brazil. ¨Even the President gets trashed!¨ is what some chilenos have told me. Although I can't say I witnessed any ragers over the holiday--probably because I was in the more rural town of Antofagasta--I will admit that Chileans, despite the aforementioned tragedies, are some of the proudest gente (people) I have ever known.


Let's rewind to the beginning of mis vacaciones, which I spent with four chicas! Melissa and Trish, along with Jenny and Brooke (our fellow compatriotas who live in Rancagua to the south), provided lovely company for a week full of adventures in the Atacama Desert, which by the way is the driest desert in the world. Fun, random facts are great, aren't they? Melissa, Trish and I began our sojourn al norte on a plane to Antofagasta, a rural but respectably-sized mining town and la capital del norte--copper mining is the region's primary industry. We immediately caught a bus to San Pedro de Atacama, but it wouldn't be our last experience in the city where the desert meets the ocean. After a long and hot trip, which I spent reading Allende's La Casa de Los Espíritus and watching reruns of Punk'd, the pop culture phenomenon of the early 2000s, we finally arrived in the dry, dusty pueblo.


Brooke and Jenny wouldn´t arrive until later that evening, so my roomies and I were on our own to find the hostal we booked--La Iquisa. The directions provided on their website weren't entirely clear, so we found ourselves ambulando (wandering) por San Pedro, asking locals where the place was. Their assistance was just about as confusing as our directions, but despite our troubles, after about 45 minutes lugging all our stuff around the desert, we finally arrived at La Iquisa with daylight to spare. We settled in, unpacked, cooked dinner, and made friends with a couple of uruguayos, old childhood budies who decided to rent a car in Argentina and drive it all the way to San Pedro for the weekend. That night, instead of spending 20 lukas (over forty bucks) on hors d'œuvre and over-priced drinks, Melissa and I joined Fabian and Rodrigo (Trish was uder the weather) drinking litros of Cristal (cerveza, not the champagne) in the streets, which was way cooler anyways.


The next day, having added Brooke and Jenny to our crew, we all went into town to check out tiendas artesenales (artisan shops), buy water, and book our adventures for the next two days. We ended up paying around $80 USD for two days of excursions to a sandboarding area, La Valle de la Luna (Valley of the Moon), Los Geysers de Tatio, Las Lagunas Saladas, and Los Ojos de San Pedro (The Eyes of Saint Peter). Not too shabby. That same day we checked off sandboarding, which was cool, as well as La Valle de La Luna. I managed to master the sandboard and was cruisin' by the end of our session, but I think I prefer the snow. El puesto del sol (sunset) at La Valle de la Luna was magnificent; I've never seen such vibrant reds, pinks, oranges, or blues in my life! And the lines created by the shadowing on the reliefs and and other land formations contributed a moving aesthetic to the splendid panorama.


The next morning, we boarded a van at 4 a.m. to make it to Volcàn Tatio's crater by sunrise, where we enjoyed the serene sights and sulfuric scents of the geysers. Don't compare these wonders to Yellowstone, or to Iceland; they weren't immense. That didn't bother me, though. My experience that morning was very emotional. For over two months I had been isolated in Santiago's concrete jungle. Y bueno, I do work in rural Paine, but I hadn't been immersed en la naturaleza for so long, and when I finally had the opportunity to really look it straight in the eye--the sunlight hitting the landscape, rendered bright yellow by the paja brava, a native sedge, the sulfur vapors steaming from the bubbling agujeros (holes), the vibrant colors created by ancient subterranean minerals--something came over me. I can't explain why, but I started sobbing. It was powerful, refreshing, and healing; an experience that I'll never forget.


On our way back from Tatio, we enjoyed the native fauna of the Patuta and San Pedro river valleys por el camino (along the way), including small groups of vicuña (think hybrid between llama and deer), flamingos (strange to see what I had thought to be a tropical bird in such a cold and dry climate), and tagua cornuda, which is a type of pheasant. The paja brava dominated the mountain slopes, the river valleys were lush with a moss-like grass that I can't recall, and once in awhile we'd see a cactus that we learned was called cojín de suegra, which means ¨mother-in-law's cushion.¨ We made several stops along our way home to take pictures of the wildlife, check out an indigenous pueblo called Machaco, and sip agua dulce, which is fresh water from el yacimiento de la cordillera--the freshwater basin underneath the mountains. It was bakán! (Chilenismo meaning ¨awesome¨ or ¨cool.¨)

Our afternoons and evenings spent at La Iquisa were lovely. Our antifriones (hosts) were very accommodating and sociable. There were Silvia an Juan, the abuelos (grandparents), Roberto, their youngest son, Kati, his German girlfriend, and Estefani, the daughter or the eldest son. I particularly established a good rapport with Silvia and Estefani, as did the rest of the crew. During or final day in San Pedro, while the ladies went into town to shop, I stuck around and played music with Estefani. She was very intrigued by the guitar and enjoyed strumming while I played diferent chords. We also had brought Trish's tamborine and Estefani showed great zeal in playing it while she danced around--seriously, it was the most adorable thing I have ever seen in my life. We took turns singing songs, both rehearsed and ad-libbed, and then Estefani suggested making up a song together. Our creation process went about like this:

Ben: What should our song be about?
Estefani: Ummm...flowers!
B: And what are the flowers doing?
E: They're singing.
B: What are they singing about? ...We need three things.
E: About fruit...about plants...and about...bananas.
B: Hmm, well, bananas are a kind of fruit...I know; why don't they sing about people?
E: Yeah, I like that!
B: And why are they singing about all those things?
E: Because...they are beautiful!

We went on to sing a lovely song following that sequence. My experience with Estefani that afternoon was one of the most candid yet fulfilling things I have been a part of in my recent history, and like the geysers, it is forever etched in my memory.

Our visit to San Pedro culminated, we returned to the bus terminal in Roberto's van, bid him and Kati farewell, and were waiting for our bus when I heard a female voice say, ¨Hey, Colorado Rockies,¨ referring to my Rockies cap, and then, ¨wait a minute, Ben Westlund?¨ And to my surprise, there was Amelie Kastning, one of Kate's closest friends from Crested Butte, Colorado! Amelie is currently studying abroad in Valparaíso, which is on the coast, and we had been throwing around the idea of meeting up with each other, but neither of us had imagined it would happen in such a coincidental manner! Por casualidad (by coincidence), we both travelled to San Pedro around the same time and were now taking the same bus back to our respective destinations--myself going to Antofagasta, and she to Valpo. I was introduced to her friends Celine, Bailey, and Jeanie, and we ended up chatting and playing telephone pictionary, a sweet game by the way, to pass our time on the way back. It was too cool!

Antofagasta in no way compares to San Pedro, but it was enjoyable in its own way. We arrived on the 18th in the afternoon, which meant we had some time to rest and relax in preparation for La Ramada, which is a Dieciocho celebration chock full of carnival games and rides, música y baile Cueca (traditional Chilean style of music and dance that I love), anticuchos (shishkabobs), completos (hotdogs), chorripan (think polish sausage in a bun with guacamole, tomato, and mayo), cerveza...good, wholesome fun! We enjoyed ourselves heartily and returned home by medianoche (midnight) to crash.

Brooke and Jenny left the next morning. Trish, Melissa and I spent the 19th riding random buses through town, observing the hustle and bustle and making our way to La Portada, which is a natural landmark and Antofagasta's official calling card. It's basically a great big stone arch (I believe some sort of conglomerate of sandstone, gravel, and ancient seashells, but don't quote me) in the middle of the water just off the coast on the north side of town. We hiked around, searched for seashells, rocks, and other interesting artifacts, saw a dead dog, and took our picture in front of La Portada. Then we had to rush back, as Melissa and Trish needed to pack and head out to catch their flight. I chose to stay an extra few days, which I spent sleeping in late, eating empanadas and anticuchos, reading, and playing soccer down by the beach with the locals. It was a nice, low-key way to spend the dwindling moments of my vacation.

I returned to Santiago Tuesday morning the 22nd, bleached my whites and did my laundry, cleaned up around the house, began making plans to inerview with Norte, and got back in into my groove. Following my first week back, CSFP celebrated their annual and aforementioned Chilean Heritage Festival, which I enjoyed very much. It was so cool seeing all of the students to the traditional dances of Chile, singing the national hymn, eating more anticuchos, and getting in on some Cueca sessions with various teachers and students. It was a great display of Chilean pride, and I now feel I have a little Chilean inside of me. These last several months have been so amazing and fulfilling, I can't believe I still have so much time to continue that positive trend.

I leave you all with well-wishes, happiness and love, and would love to hear from all of you when you have the chance.

Que les vaya bonito (have a lovely day),

Ben

¨I Put In Work And Watch My Status Escalate¨

*Note: my title for this post is a quote from the song Working by Gang Starr, one of the rawest hip hop groups of the '90s. If you don't know 'em, then you don't know rap music, boyeeeeeee... or girrrrrrlllll.....

A big fat que pasa (what's up) to all you party people out there in internet land! I hope that y'all have been well, that summertime en el norte is wrappin' up nicely, and that you've been missin' me! I have had a few minor bouts with homesickness, but then I remember how exhilirating it is to be down here and it's allllllll good!


Before I go into details about mi trabajo, I'd like to highlight a few happenings outside of the 9 to 5 realm. I've been getting a decent taste of la vida nocturna here. I am incredibly grateful to have acquired a solid back ground in Latin dance before arriving--¡me sirve muy bien (it serves me very well)! I am now an official member of the Chilean community after obtaining my cédula, which is the national I.D. card issued to everyone living within Chilean borders. My Spanish feels great; I'm using more and more Chilenismos and have started talking with a Chilean accent the best I can (although it's really tricky); I buy a newspaper every Monday and read it cover to cover, which is expanding my vocabulary; I'm finishing up the Paolo Coehlo novel I started before arriving (The Devil and Miss Prym) and am moving on to something more advanced: La Casa de Espíritus (The House of Spirits), written by Isabella Allende, a famous Chilean author and niece (thanks Lena!) of Salvador Allende, the president before Pinochet (google Pinochet now if you don't know him). And on the subject of la literatura, this past Saturday I accompanied my roomies and a whole pack of gringos from our program to La Isla Negra (The Black Island), the former summer home and now national musuem of Pablo Neruda, who I believe I've mentioned before in this blog. I learned a lot on this trip about Neruda: his filosofías about love, politics, and the human condition; his political activism--his poetry was very influential during la revolucion comunista in Cuba and he was very close to Ché and Fidel; and his vast collection of relics from all over the world. The man's poetry continues to blows my mind!

Okay on to the good stuff! Having nearly completed one month of work at Colegio San Fransisco de Paine, it is evident that I've become quite the fixture! From the start I stuck out because of my foreign features, although there are a handful of students of German descent who I would have mistaken for gringos had I not known in advance. At this point, however, I can safely say I now stand out in many other ways, all of which are positive!

First impressions are monumental. As with every teaching job I undertake, I made it a point to learn every student's name as soon as possible (I still can't remember all 200 something, but I'm very close), which my fellow teachers were very impresed by. I also made it a point to set a positive yet demanding tone for the rest of the school year. I accomplished this by striking a nice balance between my sense of humor to break the ice and my expectations of respect, collegiality between all participants in the class, and willingness to push one's limits. I basically gave the same spiel in all 13 classes, switching up my rhetoric based on age level. I was more successful in some classes in others; I think my biggest challenges in classroom management will come from 5th, 6th, and 7th grades. Not to sound cocky, but I pretty much have everyone else wrapped around my finger ;)

The other night, David called me on the phone after an evening of drinks with a bunch of other teachers, and he basically spilled his guts about how much everyone is enjoying my presence at CSFP. I think everyone was particularly jazzed about me that night because it was the same day I was chosen to play in a scrimmage against the boys basketball team in front of the entire school; after the game they all kept talking about how I play ¨like black people from the Bronx,¨ which still cracks me up. Anyways, I was flattered by the phone call, and I truly feel, as David kept telling me over the phone that night, like I am ¨one of them.¨ I couldn't have gotten luckier in my job placement, and feel that I should stay the entire year as I initially intended. I was considering a job switch in the pursuit of (financial) happiness, but am starting to realize more and more how blessed I've been to be a part of such a great place. Besides, I can teach priviate lessons to earn more income, which I'll hopefully be accomplishing muy pronto!

I think my posts from this point until December will chronicle the growth of both my students and my teaching abilities. Once in awhile I'll throw in some extracurricular morsels (I am planing a trip to the Atakama Desert in September), but now it's time to shed light on what goes on in my classes and within the greater CSFP community. But now I gotta finish planning and catch the 2:30 back to Santiago.

Hasta la próxima,

Ben

Assimilación

It's 6 a.m. Santiago time, and I have an hour to burn before I link up with my carpool, so why not blog?! It's been a few moments since my last post--mi culpa--so let's catch up on what I've been up to the last few weeks!

I am now completely settled in at the new apartment with my homegirls Melissa and Trish. The complex is located at Baquedano, a super central location that's buzzin' with culture (El Teatro Universidad de Chile is literally attached to the four building complejo), young folks (who all smoke like chimeneas), and la vida nocturna. Getting everything squared away with our arrendador (renter) was quite a process; let's just say I was missin' having my Pops as a landlord. The dude's name is Raúl, and every request we posed to him was answered, "Ok, bueno, mañana..." which really means next week. The place was a little dirty when we moved in--hair all over the bathroom and kitchen, dirt and grease por todo (throughout), condom wrappers, yeah you get the idea. Anyways, we now finally have everything (ojala--I hope) figured out. Despite the hiccups in our transition, we are very happy with our situation; we are literally footsteps away from the metro, the departamento is spacious and accommodates us well, and the elevator is one of those cool old-fashioned ones! Since we only have two bedrooms, we are going to switch off who gets the single room with the queen bed. Since Melissa has her little fling goin' on at the moment (with a guy from Colorado, jaja), she gets to enjoy it first. I'll most likely be next in a few months, and then Trish will enjoy it when her boyfriend comes and visits in the Fall, aka y'all's Spring. I love grammatically defunct vernacular.

Quick aside: Wow, I just dropped the biggest deuce in my entire life, and it was amazing. To all the readers out there who are uncomfortable with trivial things like pooping, I'll say this: get over it! I love the book Everybody Poops, and am adamant about it being in today's canon of contemporary children's literature. I'm sure many of you would prefer the title Nobody Poops But You. C'mon, I mean let's get serious: I need a small list of necessities to be happy--water, food and shelter, love and friendship, and smooth stools. Give me those things and I'm good to go! Melissa and I have poop talks weekly, and they have brought us a close bond as well as many laughs. Who's with me on this?! Ok moving on...

The 9 to 5 is amazing. I don't even feel like I'm working! I've established a solid rapport with most of my students (I've learned almost all 200-some names, which has also impressed the staff), I've started easing into my role as teacher (confidently planning and teaching more and more lessons, which is helping David and Solange, who are super busy at the moment), and I can't stop talking about how much I love my school! Job placement, as I'm sure many of you can attest, is a crapshoot here. I must have amassed some serious karma points after my last job at Knight Fundamental Academy (no offense Mrs. Keeton--principal of Knight), because CSFP is by far superior to the other colegios in its staff, teacher-student and student-student rapport, level of collegiality amongst cohorts, and administrative organization. Melissa and Trish are in kind of crummy situations; their schools are highly disorganized, the rapport is minimal (a lot of the teachers, from what they tell me, are burnt out and apática--apathetic), and the English curriculum is strictly based on following the books, with little to no room for creativity, not to mention accommodations and adjustments. They're both troopers and I know they'll be fine, but let's just say they'll be seeking new employers for the Fall semester.

It is time for me to link up with David, my co-teacher, for the carpool with the principal of CSFP, María Teresa, who is very sweet. David is also wonderful. A very good teacher who knows how to keep things tranquilo, we're very similar people who get along great. I'm excited to hit the town with him and get loco.

Much love to everyone, and hollatchaboyeee! I love comments, so get it poppin', folks.

Paz,

Benja