Return to Guatemala

Lorena, my teacher before and now. From single to married with 2 daughters in the intervening 7 years. Way to go!

Before graduate school, I studied Spanish in Antigua Guatemala. Seven years later, I returned to round out my year of travel. These are some images (Photos above are from 2007, below are from 2014).

Before, my humble desk at the small school. Now there are up to 30 students at a time studying in a new garden!

Going to coffee museum, La Azotea. Then, I went with my great friend Marie-Eve. This time I went with Ayumi and Bruce, and with a greater appreciation of coffee 🙂

El Arco, then and now. Really no changes at all! Colonial zoning restrictions.

Women carrying. Traditional wear is still very common, and women are strong.

My traditional wear. With my cousin Stephanie 7 years ago, and this time with Sabrina at a traditional wedding with our cabbage patch baby 🙂

Volcán Pacaya. Before lots of red lava at our feet. This time none, but there were some major devastating eruptions a few years ago.

The same blue shirt. I'm cheap, and I cling onto shirts. This one was from about 10 years ago, and it's in top notch condition still! That's tour operator, Sandra from before, couldn't find her this time.

Selfies. It used to be harder with a point and shoot. This time it's all about front facing cameras on mobile devices.

Festivals. I was so lucky to see processions last time, and this time we saw all the kites on Dia de los santos.

Teacher cruelty

We’ve all had teachers we’ve disliked, or at least the nagging “ones we’ve disagreed with.”
My earliest memory of a teacher being anything less than omnipotent and deserving of reverence was in 10th grade US History. The man had a wry, negative way of teaching. He never showed faith in my ability, and I never warmed to his sarcasm. He was the kind of teacher that incited the reaction of “up yours” when I achieved full marks on the final exam.
Negative teaching crosses cultures. Dorje is my top bunk mate, a great kid and eager learner. But from the questions he asks me before bed, it’s obvious he doesn’t entirely understand the lessons, but he has plenty of “grit.”
At school, term grades are reported publicly during assembly. At this term’s announcements, Dorje clapped enthusiastically for everyone who passed, even when his name wasn’t called. Curiously, a teacher came to me and laughed at Dorje, saying that his actions were ridiculous given his poor marks. Later in the day, this teacher made it a point to call him out publicly, making Dorje cringe and look away at his feet.
I trust from the teacher’s perspective, this public humiliation session was not cruel at all – that it enforced a lesson to work harder next time. Mind you, this teacher also does not respond to a 4 year old’s crying and blames the cuts and scratches on children’s feet as their fault and hence takes little remedial action.
Perhaps I’m just partial to perseverance as I think I’ve displayed that quality. Even as a 29 year old in my last year of foreseeable formal education, I was declared “irresponsible, a failure, a quitter” and that I’d “never get a job.” The negativity doesn’t stop, and why should we expect it to?
As we age, there probably will never cease to be moments of teaching, formal or informal. As we all become teachers, I warm to the idea that we should all be indiscriminately patient. We should encourage, give students time, and try to understand them.
All of us respond to at least some negativity; we should be thankful it exists, for we are all stronger for it.