Lessons from the First Day of School

As I mentioned in my previous post, last Monday marked the first day of classes for the students at the Primaria in Chaquijyá Central. Wearing new clothing and all armed with new notebooks, the school’s 300 students gathered on the basketball courts to listen to speeches by the school principal. Anxious to meet their new teachers and classmates, the younger students could hardly stand still and received frequently “Hush!”’s from the nearby teachers. Feeling mature and important, the sixth grade students coolly positioned themselves against the back wall, crossed their arms, and obviously felt way too cool to be in the same school as the tiny first graders. Overall, the scene almost perfectly matched my memories of primary school. I was astounded by the similarities between this first day of school in Chaquijyá and the opening days I experienced when I was in primary school in Virginia.



However, shortly after the introductions, an event occurred that was completely foreign to me. Before entering their classrooms, the teachers divided each grade into sections. Now, the division itself did not surprise me, as I could hardly imagine one teacher trying to lead 50+ students in a single classroom. Instead, what astounded me was the way in which these divisions were made. Esteban, the school’s director, instructed each grade to form a line in the center of the basketball court. He then moved through each line, and alternating each student, randomly assigned each student to a different section. Upon learning their section, the students ran to their new classrooms and eagerly waited to see which ones of their friends would be in their section. Ultimately, each class contained a random assortment of students, including different friend groups, skill levels, and learning styles.

These divisions astonished me. In the American private schools with which I am familiar, the faculty spends hours upon hours assigning students to different classes. Whereas the Guatemalan parents seemed content with the class sections, many American parents would in fact be livid, if their children did not have friends in their class or receive their desired teacher. Many American private school parents possess strong opinions regarding the school’s teachers and will advocate for their children to be with those teachers who they believe will most likely help them to excel.



Watching the divisions continue, I began to wonder the cause of this dissimilarity. Generally, despite their plethora of differences, I believe that the American and Mayan cultures share a surprising number of commonalities pertaining to education. No matter their incomes or number of children, parents in Virginia and Chaquijyá possess the same dreams of sending their children to universities and enabling their children to lead successful lives in an occupational field they enjoy. What larger cultural differences fuel this specific divergence regarding education?



Ultimately, it boils down to this: the culture of United States hinges on its emphasis of the individual, whereas the Mayans possess a community-centric culture. In the United States, individuals are encouraged to examine themselves, explore various activities and subjects that satisfy them, set goals, and then make those goals happen. Success is the by-product of individual initiative, diligence, and resourcefulness. Because of this mentality, American parents feel pressured to personally ensure the development of their children as successful individuals, and consequently they take active roles in deciding what authority figures will contribute to this development. Their children need teachers who best suit their individual learning styles, and consequently parents sometimes hesitate to trust the teachers who might not fit their children’s individual needs.

Conversely, Mayans in Guatemala perceive their children primarily as part of a larger community, and their children’s development is linked to the overall community’s development. Accordingly, while most parents attend monthly meetings to better the school and the community, few parents argue for their children’s specific academic needs. Teachers are community members and therefore all of them merit trust. By and large, Mayan parents believe that the community will support the children and their futures will be products of the community’s demands and opportunities.



Whether at the individual or community level, at the end of the day, Mayan and American parents are always seeking to improve the lives of their children in whatever capacity they can. I am so grateful not only to be working for the betterment of the children’s education in Chaquijyá, but also to have the opportunity to live in a different culture. Interestingly enough, by living in another culture, I have learned so much about my own culture, and I am so excited for my remaining months with Manna Project International.

New Year with New Beginnings

This past Monday, the Primaria in Chaquijyá Central was teeming with energy as students, parents, and teachers all gathered to celebrate the first day of classes in the new school year. As is customary in most schools in Guatemala, the first day of classes was commemorated with music, processions, and speeches from prominent community members that discussed the importance of civic responsibility and education. Watching the children organize into new classes, I could not help but recall the excitement, anxiety, and feeling of maturity that I experienced at the beginning of each year in primary school. Whether in urban American cities or rural Guatemalan communities, the first day of classes always evokes the same fusion of feelings among young students, and I was so thrilled to be able to relive those emotions.

For MPI Guatemala, the first day of classes marks the revival of our English classes in the Primaria. Continuing the program created last September, my teammates and I have decided to make a few changes that we believe will not only enable the program to be more sustainable, but will also allow the classes to touch a broader audience. Primarily, in addition to our 4th, 5th and 6th grade classes, we will be teaching two sections of 3rd grade. I will be teaching 6th grade and could not be more excited to help prepare students for future careers and higher levels of study. Additionally, my coworkers and I will each partner with our class’s normal instructor to plan and lead each lesson. We devised this “teach the teachers” program keeping in mind the following question that is at the heart of sustainable development: if we had to leave tomorrow, would anything be able to persist and progress? Consequently, collaborating on lesson planning and teaching, we will also be teaching English to the teachers and we will construct a curriculum that we hope will be easy for future teachers to follow. If MPI did have to leave Guatemala for some reason (I hope not!), at least the teachers will have an effective curriculum and more knowledge that they can continue to utilize and develop in their classes. Eventually, we would like to hand over all English instruction to the teachers and expand our program to other grades and schools. This process will take time, but we are all excited to see how it progresses.

So, wish us luck as we head back to school! I’ll keep you updated on how everything goes.

Culture Shock and Confucius

Before I left my house to return to Guatemala for the next several months, many of my friends and family members asked me similar questions: “Will you miss home?” “Is it going to be hard going back?” “Will you have enough time to adjust?” While no one used the term directly, the topic on everyone’s mind was what has been termed “culture shock.”

Dictionary.com defines culture shock as “a state of bewilderment and distress experienced by an individual who is suddenly exposed to a new, strange, or foreign social and cultural environment.” Culture shock has become the buzzword of numerous organizations that send volunteers and employees abroad. To prevent their volunteers from experiencing this “bewilderment and distress,” many of these organizations institute lengthy orientation programs or group briefings that are designed to facilitate the transition from one culture to another.



However, throughout my personal travel and immersion experiences and in my recent travels back to the United States, I have most commonly undergone a different phenomenon that I call “reverse culture shock,” in which the bewilderment occurs not during the initial arrival to a foreign culture, but instead upon the return home. The distress occurs not with the adjustment to the unfamiliar, but to the familiar. For example, although I required a few days to become accustomed to changes in diet, routines such as greeting friends with a kiss on the cheek, and even the more basic habits such as throwing the toilet paper in the trashcan instead of the toilet, my initial days in Guatemala were full of excitement, not anxiety. Conversely, six months later in December, I was riding home from the airport, and I struggled to find words to express my emotions. Though the scenery and people were very familiar, and I was overjoyed to see my family and friends, the general atmosphere was (for lack of a better word) different. I felt quietly overwhelmed and needed several days to acclimatize myself.



Numerous people experience this phenomenon as I do, yet somehow reverse culture shock seems counter-intuitive. The return to the familiar should be, well, familiar, and therefore the adjustment should be nearly seamless. So far, I have come up with two reasons that could explain reverse culture shock and I’ll give it a whirl at de scribing them. Whirling commence.

First, I wonder if I have been more mentally prepared for the trip abroad as opposed to the return home. For example, when I first arrived in Guatemala, I was so excited to be able to have a taste of foreign culture. I expected and looked forward to a different lifestyle, and so small adjustments did not seem so demanding. Maybe, expecting to experience culture shock actually shielded me from the phenomenon, whereas my reverse culture shock arose from my failure to anticipate lifestyle changes upon my return.



I also wonder if my experiences (or lack of) with culture shock and reverse culture shock stem from more profound emotions concerning my life’s momentum. Going abroad entails forward momentum. When I travel to new places, I feel as though I am progressing, as though I am moving forward into a new stage of my life. Alternatively, when I return home, I feel like I am doing just that, returning. Although I know consciously that this return also marks a new chapter in my life, a part of me feels like I am taking a step back, like I am regressing. Once again, I know that returning home is not regressing, yet at some level, I experience these emotions which can be exhausting.



This Christmas, my aunt Tracy was very thoughtful to give me a necklace with a quote from Confucius that reads: “Wherever you go, go with all your heart.” I am so grateful for this gift, as I believe that it perfectly highlights what the best prevention and cure for culture shock and reverse culture shock, which is an open and eager mind. Whether I am travelling abroad or returning home, I must remember to arrive with joy and enthusiasm. In order to enjoy fully my destination, I must remember to be fully present wherever I am.

Jumping In

We’re back! Yes indeed, after three glorious weeks of holiday festivities and quality time with friends and family, team MPIG and I are back in Sololá and ready for action. It is now 2011, a new year with new opportunities, and we have many exciting prospects on the horizon. Primarily, we have four months of the warm and dry season, which I plan to savor daily by running outside and spending extensive hours on our balcony. Additionally, during the upcoming months, not only are we fortunate to be able to embark on two retreats to the breathtaking Semuc Champey and Rio Dulce, but we will also be able to do homestays with families in our community, the Central neighborhood of the aldea Chaquijyá. The upcoming year will bring the arrival of three groups of short term volunteers in March and 10 individual volunteers in June and July. We also look forward to work with local leaders and organizations to pursue the possibility of assembling a public library in the community. Finally and most significantly, 2011 will see the birth of the first long-term programs that MPIG will be directing in Chaquijyá. With a little luck and a lot of hard work, my fellow PD’s and I will create not only an environmental project, but also health and English education programs that will be up and running by the end of the month. Overall, I feel that the group has a renewed sense of purpose, and I am so excited to see what will come of the upcoming months.