Getting Schooled

Language class is a great reset for our teaching jobs.  Although loathe to admit it, there are times at my job when I think, "How can you not know this?" or "The answer is right in front of you.  Read it."  We've had students focus so hard on decoding that they can read a paragraph aloud and have no idea what it is about.  Intellectually, we understand why, but this week we have been able to feel it.  If nothing else, our Spanish school reestablishes empathy for our struggling learners.

It also illustrates the fundamentals of what we do at school.  It's hard to move to the next level before you have a certain level of competency of prerequisite skills.  For example, to work with fraction arithematic, you need to know your multiplication facts.  In our case, a lot of grammar has been covered in our three days, along with hundreds of vocabulary words.  Our heads are spinning for sure!

Us with our teacher Massiel.

We've had lots of practice in our homestay though.  Everyone patiently works through our broken Spanish, and we are able to learn a lot about life in Boquete.  Amilcar, their 22 year old son, is very gregarious and is awesome at getting conversations going if the dinner table gets quiet.  Yesterday, Amilcar brought his new girlfriend to dinner, and she is equally sociable.  Cristina moved by herself to Panama from Venezuela four years ago, and spoke no English and knew no one.  She taught herself with Dr. Suess books and children's television programs, and is now fluent.  Young minds are sponges!

Much to Learn

Lots of things aren't necessary in Boquete.  The temperatures stay between 60 and 80F, so there is no need for heating and cooling.  You can walk or take public transportation to all of your needs.  And no alarm clocks are needed, since the roosters rouse us around 5 am.  The rooster in our yard and the rooster down the street face off each morning. 

 

¡¿Cuál es tu nombre?!

¿Qué?

¡¿Cuál es tu nombre?!

Diego

¡Suenas como un gorrión, Diego!

And on and on for an hour or two.

Don't mess with Sr. Robert

The hens are all "Suzanna."

Hot water is also unnecesary, and is not available in our Boquete home.  After being awoken by Sr. Robert, we take a shower that jolts us to full attention.  Initially, there was a  'culture shock' to the 60F shower, but by day two, we have adjusted and find it refreshing.

After washing up, Myrian serves us the best coffee in the world, and breakfast.  This morning's included locally grown pineapple.  Delicious!

The mornings in Boquete tend to be very pleasant, and the rain starts up in the afternoon.  That means we get to study Spanish with blue skies and pleasant breezes, and our free time is quite rainy.  Boquete gets around 16 inches of rain in the month of July (as compared to 3.5" in Glens Falls).  We preferred to study in the rainy afternoon, but our teacher has to be home when her children get out of school.  This isn't ideal, but our teacher is excellent and the sacrifice is worth it.

Speaking of rain... We went for a walk and a worker we chatted it up with said, "Welcome to the jungle!"  Any image you have of jungle deluges accurately depicts the afternoon rain here.  It doesn't drizzle all afternoon, it comes down in buckets...for what seems hours.  And then clears out and is gone. We have learned that we can still run, as long as we don't start happy hour too early.

Time for homework and dinner and bed!

 

Getting Aquainted

The cliffhanger entitled, "Will we leave Newark?" was rated PG-13 for language and substance use.  The travel weary hunched themselves over beers at the airport bars, and the travel angry shouted and cursed at airport employees after yet another delay or cancellation.  Our spirits remained high (we never thought we'd leave Newark on time) and somehow, by the grace of the gods, our plane boarded on time and took off an hour late.  

One perk to being a day later is that we scored two first class seats on the plane to Panama.  The meal was good and the drinks were free and the hot towels felt particularly refreshing.  Upon landing in Panama City, we received a text letting us know that there was going to be a protest shutting down the road from David to Boquete.  They weren't sure when we would be able to reach our final destination.  Shrugging, we rested up for the night and caught a quick plane to the town of David.  Fortunately, our driver (also David) knew a way around, and was there to greet us!   Things were turning around.

The drive to Boquete was beautiful, with Volcan Baru (elev 11,400 and the hightest point in Panama) guiding our way.  The lush landscape was dotted with coffee plantations and dairy farms.  David spoke no English, but was willing to work through our limited Spanish.  We arrived at Myrian's casa, and David brought us into the house like he owned the place.  He introduced us to Myrian, who showed us to our room.  She prepared us coffee (El mejor cafe del mundo!) and breakfast while we unpacked.  When we came for breakfast, David was still there. "Myrian es mi esposa!" revealed David, with an impish smile.  David!

After breakfast, we walked about three miles into Boquete proper to check things out, and to get a bite to eat.  We then returned to the room for a beer and nap. 

Mimi, the Cat, naturally knew Kathy was the allergic one and wanted attention most from her.  Winter, the Dog, wagged his tail and limped around on three legs.  We think Myrian said that when Winter wagged his tail, he was unhappy.  It didn't seem to be the case and left us very confused....

Lots of flower displays leading into Boquete!

At dinner, we got to know our hosts in our most broken Spanish.  We met two of their children, Astrid (19) and Amilcar (22).  We actually saw and heard Amilcar earlier as he headed to the shower and sang loudly and confidently from therein.  Dinner was delicious (beef with a sauce, rice, avocado and plantains), and we definitely started to feel at home.  And then we slept gloriously.

The Journey

Our month long trip to Panama was finally here!  Brooke picked us up at 1 pm sharp and drove 35 rainy miles to the airport. The plane boarded on time for our short hop to Newark. 

Newark….  Last year, Newark had more cancellations than any other airport. But we had a six hour layover and things seemed in order. Then the intercom announced the unfortunate news. No planes could land at Newark until after 8 pm. We had to disembark. 

Now, we were glad for the long layover.  There was still enough time to make our connecting flight. 

And at boarding time….

We had options, but none good and all costly. After hemming and hawing long enough (and two agents later), we were put in a cab with a Swiss gentleman. We had a new flight at 3pm the next day out of Newark.  The cab driver, from Sudan, asked the Swiss man to type ‘Newark Airport’ into Google Maps, and off we went into the rain.   Did you catch that?  The Sudanese cab driver didn’t know how to get on the Thruway from Albany Airport.  And he had to stop for gas in downtown Albany.

The drive was a little sketchy, as the rain was heavy at times, and the driver fast.  Time went quickly though.  It was fascinating to hear the backstory of our Swiss and Sudanese companions.  We arrived at the airport just past midnight.

Newark Airport resembled a refugee camp, with exhausted and resigned travelers sprawled out on seats, cots and the floor.  We found a less crowded section of the airport and tried to sleep; Jeff on the floor and Kathy in a chair.  Around 2 am, we scored a single cot to share and slept a couple of hours.