Friday, January 26, 2007

Por fin! Enladrillado

Yesterday Dan and I hiked to Enladrillado, loosely translated as “brick paving”, a plateau in the Andes that overlooks the Claro gorge. The name is attributed to the layout of stones on this high plain: gigantic hexagonal stones that appear to be tiled by a mysterious landscape artist in the sky at an altitude of 7,160 feet. Among locals it has a reputation for being a UFO landing strip. Even the Chile Corporacion Nacional Forestal (CONAF) map refers to the popular interpretation of the site as designed and visited by extraterrestrials. This has been a destination since we knew we were coming to Chile and we read about it in guide books…not because of the woo woo factor, but because it’s considered to be the most beautiful hike between Santiago and Temuco—our home territory here.

After four hours of steadfast hiking and climbing we reached Enladrillado and noticed one other friendly person who paused for a warm welcome before resuming his gesturing to two other companions off in the distance. We sat on a large flat rock perched on the precipice of the Rio Claro valley far, far below and took in the breathtaking views of the mountain peaks and the valley landscape while eating our lunch. “Blissed out” best describes our state of mind. Eventually, after consuming every last morsel of our food while absorbing the vast vistas, I noticed a new buzzing sound. I turned to see the trio sitting in a tight circle, chanting in unison. We were delighted that they were not intimated by our presence and could readily launch into such exuberant harmony. We listened to their rising and falling cadences and wondered about their invocations. Eventually though, they were forgotten as we retreated into our own wondrous world.

Just as our fingers were getting numb and we thought we should start moving again, a magnificent condor appeared to the east and gracefully glided above us. Dan hustled to take a photo but that meant taking his eyes off this majestic bird with a wingspan of 10 feet. It was, in a word, magical. As it faded into the western sky, our friends, finished with their meditation, were whooping with joy at the condor sighting. They came over to tell us that there were only 50 condors in Chile and it was very special to see one. We have no doubt about the latter—it was more than special, it was spectacular. After a few moments of celebration and then a photo-op for Dan and me, they were off.

In time we began to gather ourselves to resume the walk back down to the Rio Lircay valley floor. After lingering for our last long look, we turned to go back. Within minutes Dan shouted an alarm behind me and I swung around to see that the condor was back. This time he was determined to capture its grandeur in a photo because our memories often fail us in the long run. The condor mesmerized us with its presence and kept us a captive audience for a while longer. All good things come to an end however, and ultimately we had to bid farewell to the King of the Andes as it disappeared from where it came in the eastern horizon. We’re unanimous on this: a visitation from aliens is not required to make this trek worthy of its high rating; on the other hand, a visitation from a condor elevates it to the sublime.

For more pictures from the hike, go to this link

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

English Summer Town -- Chilean Style

Upon arriving in Chile last July and during our orientation, we Fulbright teachers signed a contract with Chile Fulbright cementing our commitment to teach at English Summer Town in January 2007. Ah, they caught us early in the honeymoon stage—speaking for myself here, I later wondered why I didn’t notice that EST was during my summer vacation—January and February. The new school year starts around March 1st.

As my teaching year began to wind down in December the reality of preparing for English Summer Town seemed a little daunting. Like at home, when June rolls around I’m ready for a break from the daily demands of teaching. I didn’t relish the thought of teaching for a week in January. Fantasies of lolling in a hammock seemed to eclipse everything else and I was having an all-out war with my motivation. In the end professionalism and commitment won out.

We arrived at Las Colinas de Cuncumen http://www.cuncumen.cl/ccm/index2.htm on Sunday the 7th and were instantly enamored of the setting, a gorgeous retreat center SW of Santiago. Wow! We realized that the English Open Doors Program and the Chilean Ministry of Education, along with Chile Fulbright, made a gargantuan effort to provide us with the best that Chile has to offer—an aesthetic environment with delicious traditional Chilean food.

The U.S. Fulbright teachers were the main event in EST: http://www.ingles.mineduc.cl We taught English language acquisition strategies to Chilean English teachers during the morning sessions and our family members taught cultural workshops after lunch. My morning sessions focused on writing strategies; Dan taught American folk songs in the afternoon.

When we first arrived to Cuncumen I was slightly shocked by how remote we were, with no internet access and spotty cell phone reception. The nearest town with services was about 45 minutes away. I needn’t have worried about being cut off from the world for a week-- we created our own vibrant universe there. The week turned out to be fabulous. Each day found us engaged in thoughtful conversations, rousing discussions, soulful songs and lots of playful activities. Obviously, we weren’t the only ones to interrupt our summer vacation: 120 Chilean teachers gave up a week of their summer break to attend EST as well. Once the buses rolled in with all the Chilean teachers on Sunday evening we knew we were in for a rocking week.

Here are some of the high points:

  • Attending the workshops of my U.S. colleagues and learning new strategies to teach English in Chile. Furthermore, we had the opportunity to deepen our connections during the week. Lifelong friendships are coalescing among us.
  • Collaborating with our Chilean colleagues who were passionate participants in our sessions all week. I was rejuvenated by their energy, creativity, and insights about teaching. At the week’s end my toolbox for teaching English doubled thanks to their many generous suggestions and ideas.
  • The dance contest in which Dan was a finalist. He credits his dance partner, Anita, but he’s being too humble. They were an impressive couple and undoubtedly someone out there has photos or even a video of their fancy step-work.
  • The rally squad “yell-off” in which Terri really tore it up with some hot, hot moves. I don’t need a video to recall that performance—it’s indelible in my memory! Her team won the cheering competition by the way.
  • The spontaneous singing and dancing from our Chilean colleagues at any given moment. The picture of Hector on Dan’s blog entry was taken after lunch one afternoon when we were all gathered in the dining room-- a collective expression of gratitude for our week together. Songs were sung, dances were danced, and a fun time was had by all.
  • The cloning awards in which people were bequeathed with certificates for looking like a carbon copy of someone else. Among us we had Shakira, Michele Bachelet, and Don Quixote to name a few. In the past Dan has been mistaken for Rick Bayless and we were once treated like royalty in a posh Mexican restaurant for that misconception. He is accused of looking like Harvey (a gringo character in a Chilean soup opera), John Denver, and Bruce Cockburn among others. I have been with him when people have asked, “Are you famous?” He has that look about him which once again earned him focused attention. He was our Don Quixote.
  • My keynote speech on Thursday. The topic was Teachers and Students Taking Risks. I wrote an essay about the potency of teachers modeling risk taking and life-long learning. Initially I was intimidated because my predecessors had power point presentations, prizes to give away, and were very entertaining to boot. During a dip in my confidence I remembered my topic and the fact that I was asking teachers to risk sharing their writing in my morning workshops. Life imitates art imitates life.

I left Cuncumen Friday afternoon knowing that I didn’t give up anything to be a part of English Summer Town. I gained a whole new perspective on what it means to be a Fulbright teacher here in Chile.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

How to play the cueca

Last week I accompanied Catherine and the other Fullbright teachers to English Summer Town, an event where about 100 Chilean teachers of English gathered for a week of workshops on how to teach English. My small role in all this was to present a couple of afternoon workshops on 'American Folk Songs'.

On the first day, I was sitting outside the dining room after lunch, playing the guitar, hoping to drum up some interest in my workshop that afternoon. Right away, I met Hector, (photo to the left), who asked me to play Country Roads, by John Denver. "I don't know any John Denver songs," I grumbled, (a long-held prejudice of mine dating back to my teenage years and being told too many times that I looked just like the syrupy folk singer, but that is another story). Undaunted by my grumpiness, Hector suggested "Feelings", or maybe anything by Kenny Rogers. I was starting to get really worried, imagining a long week of singing "You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em..."

However, my first afternoon workshop was totally fun, the participants engaged and singing along with all the songs. I was surprised at how many of the songs, like Oh Susanna, they already knew. As I have experienced before in Chile, the love of music and singing is widespread among the people here. Along with the singing, we had some great discussions of the history and politics surrounding the songs, supported by Terri's great research and comments. As the workshop was breaking up, a couple of the participants asked if I could play any Chilean songs. Well, I do know Te Recuerdo Amanda. So I played it, and they sang along, and then they grabbed pencil and paper and made a list of 5 more songs that I should learn. I was beginning to see that I was going to learn much more than I was going to teach this week.

The next day I was not scheduled to present any workshops, but during lunch we started singing Beatles songs at our table, and after I left the table, Catherine made an appointment for me with the other teachers at the table for an informal music session under the trees later that afternoon. Only 4 or 5 people showed up, but they were great, and we went through the folk songs from the workshop. At one point, one of the teachers, on the right in this picture, picked up a couple of rocks and began to beat out the rhythm.

On Wednesday evening, I was feeling tired around 10:30, so I wandered back to our cabin for some quiet time to catch up on my reading. Catherine was hanging out with the other Fullbright teachers, catching up with their collective experiences in Chile. Around 11:00, Catherine and Hector came to the cabin, looking for "Danny!". Hector wanted to borrow my guitar and asked if I wanted to come play some music. I was so settled-in that I declined, but gladly lent him my guitar. Soon, I could hear the sounds of singing drifting up the hill from the other cabins. I lasted about 20 minutes, and then said to Catherine, who was drifting off to sleep at this point, that I had to get up and see what was going on down there.

As I felt my way down the hill in the dark, the group called my name and launched into a rousing version of 'Feelings', full of gusto and good humor. I was hooked. At the center was Hector, playing the guitar and fielding requests. Surrounding him were about 20 Chilean teachers, and Bill, the husband of another Fullbrighter, and me. It seemed that all the Chileans knew all the songs. The singing was enthusiastic and heartfelt, and it went on and on, the wellspring of shared songs so deep here in Chile. At some point I was asked to sing a few, and Hector and I traded back a forth for a bit (although he is a much better player than me). A high point for me might have been the duet we sang of Juan sin Tierra, by Victor Jara. Bill and I, as the only gringos in the crowd, kept looking at each other and trying to imagine a similar collection of songs at a party in the USA that everyone would know and sing. I should mention that all of this was happening without any alcohol, fueled solely by the love of the music and shared culture.

I finally gave into fatigue at around 2:00 am (not sure really, didn't have a watch) and stumbled back to bed, but sleep would not come easily, my heart and mind were so stimulated by the outpouring of joy and sadness of the songs. It was humbling to be with those teachers, to swim in the deep waters of their music, to see how they sang with the hearts as well as their voices. I was learning so much more than I was teaching.

Finally, to wrap this up since it is going on longer than I really planned, on the last morning I ended up eating breakfast at a table with Hector. We were talking about the guitar, and I admitted that I just could not master the rhythm of the Chilean national dance, the cueca, on the guitar. Hector admitted that he, likewise, could not get the feel for the rhythm of the blues. We arranged to meet just before lunch, and Hector would teach me the secret to the cuecu, and I would show him what I knew of the blues. To the left you can see the simple sheet that Hector gave me to explain the rhythm of the cueca, 1-2-3, 1-and-2-3. What a master guitarist he was, and what a master teacher. I ended the week feeling that I had received so much more than I had given. As Violeta Parra sang, 'gracias a la vida, que me ha dado tanto'

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

2007: In with the old, out with the new

Last year (wow, we can say that already?) was a year of monumental change for us…lots of new experiences inside and outside of our comfort zone, along with some bona fide challenges that will make us tougher and more resilient in the end – according to current day psychobabble. We’re still crafting our New Year’s resolutions. Here they stand at the moment: carve out a daily slot to speak Spanish-only together; do more yoga; don’t perseverate about things that are out of my locus of control (me); acknowledge that each day is a new beginning; tranquilo because we can’t change anything about Chilean bureaucracy; embrace the Chilean educational system for what it is (in other words, don’t worry so much about being super-teachers, revel in the relationships that we’re forging); and count our lucky stars for being in this magnificently beautiful country.

But come on! We would love a little predictability in our lives. As estadounideneses, we are planners. It’s a deeply ingrained trait for us. As a teacher I map out my curriculum for the school year before it starts! It goes without saying that the Portland Public Schools calendar is available in March for the following school year in September. Here in Chile we’re currently on summer break and the school year is supposed to start up on March 1st or somewhere thereabouts. I have no idea about my schedule—what it looks like, which classes I’m teaching, and worst of all, when the school year starts. This is torture for me I might add. Perhaps I should add spontaneity to my list of resolutions?

All that aside, we are hoping for fewer surprises and more forays into known territory. For example, we want to continue to build upon our Spanish language acquisition, a precious gift for both of us. Translation: we hope to encounter more Chileans who are patient enough to let us stammer through our conversations and respond in kind or better, in naturally spoken Spanish. So far our encounters, for the most part, have been very nurturing and thereby lowering the affective filter –educational lingo for making the learning environment welcoming and eradicating the fear factor. (We’re always making fools of ourselves, but who else is taking note?). Additionally, it would be pure bliss to know when I’m required to return to school and what’s expected of me (and us, since Dan is teaching some of my classes as well, lightening the load of 400+ students a week).

We’re hoping to continue the community building vibe in our neighborhood and in Chillán in general. It goes without saying that we’re starting over with new students in the Fall (March), yet we would like to think that we’re making progress with navigating the Chilean way of being. We hope to establish long-term relationships that result in a continued exchange with our Chilean friends upon our departure. Oh my god, I’m already talking about the future and leaving—a totally un-natural perspective. I do not want to think that far ahead. Be here now is a glorious New Year’s resolution.


For more pictures of our family gathering over the holidays, click this link