Compared to last, this has been a deliciously industrious summer for me, but with a perfect amount of downtime. As I am staring down the last week of summer vacation, I do not sense the racking anxiety of back-to-school preparations that incurred my "Teacher's Perspective" blog roughly 365 days ago. So, the top five golden highlights:
5. Wedding Planning in the Mond: Any occasion that brings me to my hometown of Richmond, VA is a worthwhile one. I arranged the church, reception, band, photographer, guest hotel rooms, and invitations. It was stressful at times for a couple of reasons. For one, you would think the Catholic church doesn't want people to get married considering the difficulty it takes to book a day with them. Secondly, I am NOT an enthusiastic decision maker (refer to "A Teacher's Perspective" blog for more about this personal anxiety of mine), and thus I am eternally indebted to God for providing me with a mother and a fiancee who lust for calling the shots.
Anyway--it's clear to me now why people say, "F--k it" and jet off for Vegas to be married by a man in an Elvis costume--it may be ugly as hell, but it sure is easy!
4. Teaching Summer School: Five years ago I distinctly remember uttering "Never again" upon completing my first 6-weeks Freshman English repeater course. I met with students for four hours a day, M-F. These were kids who did not like reading and writing enough during the school year to pass. Now we were locked in a classroom during their summer break to somehow magically ignite the same desire for language arts. It will suffice to say that I remember watching a lot of movies that summer.
With house payments and children on the near horizon, suddently the money from summer school is more attractive to me than being able to lounge by a pool or take off to Vegas on a moment's notice. So, for two weeks this summer I taught roughly 45 middle school kids which, among other things, solidified my previous suspicion that I am not a middle school teacher. 7th and 8th graders retain a heartwarming innocence that completely vanishes a quarter of the way through 10th grade. But they do not understand my humor (read: sarcasm) very well and they are paralyzed with self-consciousness. This latter point is particularly painful for someone who remembers the terror of "freakishness" when she was that age. The mantra of our class thus became "We are all uncool." If middle schoolers think that part of the course objective is to "be cool" we would NEVER have gotten anything done. And we did read some great stories.
3. The Dark Knight: Hands down, best movie of the summer--BUT several things bothered me. For one, (and I'm partially stealing this from a review I read online) someone in the sound mixing department thought it would be a good idea to make Christian Bale's Batman sound like a cross between Clint Eastwood and a grizzly bear. It's a bizarre decision and one that distracted me throughout the film. I also detest Maggie Gyllenhaal--and it pains me to say it, but Katie Holmes was a MUCH better Rachel Dawes. I also get confused sometimes when superhero movies go to this many editions with sequels mixed in: Are we supposed to erase the first Batman's portrayal and backstory of the Joker completely or somehow mix the two movies together, because I'm not sure the latter is possible. On a positive note, the makeup job for Two Face was exciting (and nauseating!).
2. Waterskiing and Wine Tasting: I worked in some great recreational activities this summer, among them this alliterative pair. I executed the former at my grandparents' house on the Eastern Shore of VA. The water was warm and nettle-free (always an excellent combination), and I tested the old "it's like riding a bike" cliche. After not skiing for a few years, I shot out of the water with ease.
The latter activity is one I have not indulged in for some time, having completely quit drinking for a 16-month period in August of 2006 and then occasionally sipped red wine since. We rented a limo, hit five wineries, grabbed a pizza for dinner, and played Catchphrase into the night. It was a good day :D
1. El Salvador: What to say. . . In truth, this trip deserves its own separate blog space, but I've been too busy (read: lazy) to write the piece it deserves. Without contest, this trip tops the list of highlights for summer and is certainly a contender for best lifetime experiences. On Friday the 13th of June, twelve rising seniors and two teachers (myself included) departed from the San Jose airport for San Salvador. Upon arrival, I considered the setting similar to Cabo (a recent trip I took in February). After a lovely dockside breakfast, we took a long drive to the small village of Guarjila. I don't think the panic set in until Sal (the director of the immersion trip) and I arrived to our "hotelito" and I observed the stark reality of poverty that revealed itself to me through our toilet and bath accomodations. The "bathroom" was a little shack divided into two "rooms" with a well between them. On the right side, a porceline-like toilet sat over a hole in the ground. The "shower" in the adjacent room provided a bucket for dipping and pouring water over my head. To put it mildly, I was terrified.
Within a day, the people of the village (especially the youth minister, John Guiliano), with their warm smiles and eager enthusiasm to be amused by the silly "gringos," put me at ease. At our core, we are human (most of us are Catholics)--we care about our families, have a need to communicate, and believe in the goodness of others. In short, faith in something greater than ourselves brought us together more quickly than I would have guessed.
Throughout the week, we explored the people, the land, and the history of a recent war in El Salvador. Two events most impressed me (in that they brought me to the floor in irrepressible sobs). While visiting "the UCA" (Universidad Centroamericana) and hearing about the massacre of several Jesuit priests, their housekeeper and her daughter, we were led into a stark room with a few pictures on the wall. John produced two full albums of pictures of these people who had been dragged from their peaceful beds (in their pajamas!) by Salvadoran National Guardsmen and shot point-blank in the face or head or chest. I looked at the photos until something inside me cracked wide open and I could not contain myself (even in front of a room of students who were probably terrified at my tears).
The other event that continues to give me goosebumps when my brain calls the memory to mind was a visit to the small town of Mozote where roughly 1200 people were killed by the same National Guard brigade that later invaded the UCA. 85% of those massacred were under the age of 12 years old. The screams and cries of children for their mothers are still there--embedded into the thick humid air you breathe as you walk through the town (which is all but completely abandoned still).
El Salvador is a beautiful country with amazing beaches and excellent food. I would definitely "vacation" there--but that kind of reflection seems nearly perverse when there is another, palpable force that makes the place remarkable: a people who have witnessed and endured more pain and suffering than any other on earth (at the hands of their own government, no less--and ours, sadly). They looked at us (the Americans they have every God-given right to condemn to hell for their losses) with warmth. I don't think I will ever be able to fully understand that level of acceptance and that degree of compassion.
This latter portion of the blog teaches me that some things may be too precious to write about justly.
