January was the sort of month that fills you with warm fuzzies. Apart from the sheer genius that was the holiday-portion of the month, getting back to the 'real' world proved to be super excellent as well. Best categorize this mess to keep me from prattling off for pages and pages.
Work: Remember the teens nonsense? And how I swore off young folks after that? Well, turns out I walk in to my first day back at Las Mercedes only to find out that there are no evening adult classes (what I'd thought I was going to get) available for me to teach. Which leaves me either kids. Or teens. The kids' course available was a higher level (level 9 as opposed to the level 4 teens course) so I thought, aw hell, why not try something new? First class I felt ten little tornadoes had stormed in, torn me from limb to limb, and whooshed back out again promising to see me next class. They were completamente LOCO in the sort of way that had me panicking that I wasn't going to be able to teach them anything because I literally couldn't control them. *angst follows. After recovering for a day or two, I mentally slapped myself across the face, cracked the 'ol knuckles and buckled down for some serious lesson planning. Turns out the only way to keep these kids engaged is to have them bouncing around the room for about half of class, and hop from activity to activity. We play games, variations on ones they know, and some that I introduce them to. I bribe them into doing their workbooks; if they work in (relative) peace, we can listen to music (cut to me sprinting to my music dealers for Selena Gomez and Justin Beiber CDs). Last Wednesday, I discovered five minutes before the end of class that the reason an otherwise shy little girl had half the class clustered around her was NOT because she'd brought her PSP to class (which I confiscated halfway through) but because THERE WAS AN INJURED BABY BIRD UNDER HER SWEATER. She'd found it on the street before class and couldn't bear to leave it there. At that moment, the kids class was TOTALLY worth it. It's definitely the class I have to prepare the most for, but absolutely one of the most fun (in the sort of fun that borders on chaos).
Ooo, I'm teaching an adults class too, which I LOVE. Bless adults, and the modicum of calm that they bring to the class. Only downside; the class is at seven in the morning. Yes, that's me getting up before six two days a week. Is it depressing getting up before the sun? Absolutely. The class is great though; a low level but a relaxing change from the kids. I was actually evaluated in this class. Once a teacher has been around for a few months, some of the high-level instructors sit-in on classes and fill out these loooooong forms evaluating a teacher's performance. There is no warning, they just show up about five minutes before the start with a smile and a "Hi Teacher, may I observe your class?" *cue the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Anyway, my evaluation came my second day with my adults class, on the VERY first day I ever had to teach a grammar lesson. And only four of my students chose to show up that day (hasn't happened since then). The evaluation wasn't NEARLY so bad as I thought and I got a TON of useful feedback. The one thing that amused me was that I was informed that I rely too heavily on the deductive method of teaching as opposed to the inductive method. I had to laugh at that; I'm absolutely the person that has zero interest in inductive learning. Just teach me how to do something, show me once or twice, then leave me be.
Work has also been busy with the launching of movie clubs and conversation clubs at both campuses. I've got a teens' conversation club I'm working with right now - they're in the middle of watching the movie Pay it Forward. We'll finish the movie and discuss this Friday. Movie club for February is also getting off the ground. After showing Freedom Writers for a special MLK week Movie Club presentation, we're hopping straight into American culture and Black History Month. This week on both campuses (I'm trying to show the same movie on each campus to keep it easy) is Groundhog Day followed by a presentation on the quirky American tradition that leaves Venezuelans looking at us like we're crazy :-). Then, Glory, Pleasantville, and The Pursuit of Happyness. Solid month.
Oot and aboot:
Joined a dance studio. I pay a monthly fee to get access to ten classes a month. I've thus far taken some jazz, belly-dancing, pilates, and hip-hop classes. Freaking sweet. Supplementing that with a bit of running in Parque del Este on off-days and I'm slowly (and reluctantly) staying in shape. I think I've been signed up for a 5k this weekend?
Started exploring parts of the city on weekends, just kind of hopping off at different metro stops and seeing where they take me. I've gone running at Los Proceres (The Founding Fathers) which is basically like the US Washington Mall; smaller, of course, but equally cool and possibly one of my favorite spots in CCS. Did a trek over to the UCV (the big university in Caracas), world famous for being named a UNESCOWorld Heritage site. Also well known for having an excellent music/movies market on weekends ;-)
Met some very cool Marines who have been awesome enough to semi-adopt me and show me another side of Caracas nightlife. I also got to watch my first NFL games since I came to VZ with them two weeks ago. Super Bowl party this weekend. And I can watch TV there. In ENGLISH.
Anyway, the city is treating me wonderfully, and I feel like a bike that's clicked into gear. I was definitely enjoying myself before, but I think I've finally nested a bit. The city is spectacular and I love that it's so vibrant and so diverse. Feeling super lucky - despite my initial reluctance - to be here!
Monday, January 31, 2011
Saturday, January 15, 2011
...to a solid 2011
I don't know if I can remember as awesome a start to any other year. Must give a tip of the hat to 2010 for easily qualifying as 'epic', but 2011 is definitely looking promising.
I had company in Caracas over New Year's. Olga - the ETA posted to Margarita - spent about five days with me. We spent a good part of her visit shuffling between travel agencies and banks (things I'm homesick for: BOOKING TICKETS ONLINE), trying to get our group on a flight to Trinidad and Tobago for Carnival. After the fourth straight day at the agency - SUCCESS! Venezuelan ETAs will be tearing up Port Au Spain March 5-9.
New Year's Eve was excellent. We started at my friend Leo's house where we rang in the New Year in a pretty chill, and VERY Venezuelan manner. We had 12 massive grapes that we had to eat at midnight. You're supposed to time the grape-eating with clock chimes at midnight, but we were sans clock or radio to tune in to any sort of countdown so we just started stuffing our faces when our phone clocks said 12:00. With each grape eaten, you make a wish! We also gave each other money (not much, just a 2Bfs note, or a 1USD bill), another tradition; you're supposed to keep that bill with you and NOT spend it and it'll bring you money. Or maybe travel. Or maybe both...hrmmmm. And of course, we were wearing yellow underwear. For suerte (luck) in 2011.
As we toasted with champagne, the Caracas skyline sparkled from the fireworks from hundreds of homes and malls. People in the city set off everything from unnecessarily-loud noisemakers, to 4th-of-July scale fireworks, usually from parking lots or the roofs of apartment buildings. I loved it - with the lights all around the city, it looked like all of Caracas was celebrating. In the background, the steady OOOOOOO-WEEEEEE, OOOOOOOOO-WEEEEEE, of car alarms; apparently setting off noisemakers around cars sets them off. Noted. After fireworks we ate some plato navideño (christmas food) and headed to the DISCO! It was awesome . We were out until 6:30. It was bright when we came home.
A couple days to recover and then it was time to prepare for the birthday extravaganza. On the 5th, I joined two other excellent ETA chicas and we headed to Choronil for a piece of some GORGEOUS VZ beaches. Should be noted that we had a blast and we all made it there and back safely meaning...the mala leche beach curse has been broken! WOO! We got a chance to enjoy some Caribbean-blue water, and white sand, took a lancha (boat) to some private beaches for some emptier beach time. We coined a new word this trip: 'unnecesario', in reference to the bathing suit situation. There was just SO much we didn't want/need to see. That's all I'm saying. Still, there was good food, good drinks, some good sun, and excellent company!
We hustled back to Caracas for the weekend, three of us girls joining up with Eric to get some quality city time. We stayed at a sex hotel. There was no other word for it - when you have the ability to pay for three hours at a time, you're afraid you're going to catch something from one of the rooms, and couples of all sorts filter in with rum and coke but NO luggage, it's a sex hotel. Aaaanyway, we had a blast and I really had a great time running around the city with the ETAs and Olga the weekend before. It's been really nice playing tourist to the city, which I don't normally get the chance to do (I mean, who am I going to wander around with?). We were dog-tired during the day due mostly to our tendency to stay out til the wee hours of the morning. Still, there was a lot of food - a LOT of food - to keep us going.
Aaand that's how the first 10 days of 2011 went. Not a lot of sleep, a lot of dancing, a lot of food. I don't think I've ever eaten so much. Really.
I had company in Caracas over New Year's. Olga - the ETA posted to Margarita - spent about five days with me. We spent a good part of her visit shuffling between travel agencies and banks (things I'm homesick for: BOOKING TICKETS ONLINE), trying to get our group on a flight to Trinidad and Tobago for Carnival. After the fourth straight day at the agency - SUCCESS! Venezuelan ETAs will be tearing up Port Au Spain March 5-9.
New Year's Eve was excellent. We started at my friend Leo's house where we rang in the New Year in a pretty chill, and VERY Venezuelan manner. We had 12 massive grapes that we had to eat at midnight. You're supposed to time the grape-eating with clock chimes at midnight, but we were sans clock or radio to tune in to any sort of countdown so we just started stuffing our faces when our phone clocks said 12:00. With each grape eaten, you make a wish! We also gave each other money (not much, just a 2Bfs note, or a 1USD bill), another tradition; you're supposed to keep that bill with you and NOT spend it and it'll bring you money. Or maybe travel. Or maybe both...hrmmmm. And of course, we were wearing yellow underwear. For suerte (luck) in 2011.
 |
| Grapes at midnight! |
A couple days to recover and then it was time to prepare for the birthday extravaganza. On the 5th, I joined two other excellent ETA chicas and we headed to Choronil for a piece of some GORGEOUS VZ beaches. Should be noted that we had a blast and we all made it there and back safely meaning...the mala leche beach curse has been broken! WOO! We got a chance to enjoy some Caribbean-blue water, and white sand, took a lancha (boat) to some private beaches for some emptier beach time. We coined a new word this trip: 'unnecesario', in reference to the bathing suit situation. There was just SO much we didn't want/need to see. That's all I'm saying. Still, there was good food, good drinks, some good sun, and excellent company!
 |
| On our lancha heading back from the beach! |
We hustled back to Caracas for the weekend, three of us girls joining up with Eric to get some quality city time. We stayed at a sex hotel. There was no other word for it - when you have the ability to pay for three hours at a time, you're afraid you're going to catch something from one of the rooms, and couples of all sorts filter in with rum and coke but NO luggage, it's a sex hotel. Aaaanyway, we had a blast and I really had a great time running around the city with the ETAs and Olga the weekend before. It's been really nice playing tourist to the city, which I don't normally get the chance to do (I mean, who am I going to wander around with?). We were dog-tired during the day due mostly to our tendency to stay out til the wee hours of the morning. Still, there was a lot of food - a LOT of food - to keep us going.
 |
| Part of the awesome birthday weekend in Caracas! |
Sunday, January 9, 2011
...to being the female Bear Grylls
Ugh, this is the post I've been dreading (and therefore procrastinated writing) because how do you cram a SPECTACULAR trip to Angel Falls and the Roraima Plateau into one measly blog post?
The ETAs and the familia Buley (Eric's spectacular family who traveled down to Venezuela to hike with the rest of us) formed a powerhouse group of ten and conquered Canaima National Park (this HUGE park in the southern part of VZ). We met up in Ciudad Bolivar where a short (and nauseating) trip in a TOO small plane carried us to a tiny village tucked into Canaima; the starting point for expeditions to Angel Falls. Angel Falls, you say? Yes, that's the tallest waterfall in the world. Also, it's the waterfall from the movie 'Up!'.
The three-day trip around Canaima's best waterfalls was a great primer for the looming Roraima trek. While we weren't in tents, and there were (gracias a Dios) bathrooms, we slept in hammocks one night, did some decent hiking and generally spent all day in the great outdoors. A 5-hour boat ride took us from the Canaima lagoon (where we enjoyed our first successful beach day!) up to Angel Falls territory. We discovered that a 5-hour boat ride sounds cool but is actually very rough on the derriere, especially when you're sitting upright in a teensy wooden boat with VERY hard seats.
An hour-long trek up a mountain and we were before IT (and it deserves the All Caps). Sixteen times the height of Niagara Falls, Angel Falls was breathtakingly beautiful; turns out the one good thing about the record amounts of rainfall across the country was that the water flow for Salto Angel was PERFECT. We even got to swim in the pool that the falls dumps into. There was lots of swimming in cold (or 'mountain fresh', if you're looking to be optimistic) pools.
A trip back to base camp (only 2.5 hours by boat this time, since we were going with the current), and we flew back to Ciudad Bolivar (with our pilot who texted while flying...comforting) and hopped an overnight bus to the border town of Santa Elena. Our mere 12-hour ride stretched into a 16hr+ ride; apparently were stopped at a fuel station for two hours overnight because there was no gas. At the gas station. In an oil-rich country.
By the time we arrived in Santa Elena we were famished and ready for a big lunch. So we hopped the border and went to Brazil, where we enjoyed a spectacular buffet that featured skewers of oven-roasted meat brought to your table (for those of you posh eaters, it was like Fogo de Chao, but for about 6USD). We weren't slated to leave for Roraima for another day or two. The others spent a day checking out some more of Canaima's waterfalls (yup, after an overnight bus trip, we were STILL in the park), but I was fighting a pretty bad cold, and not wanting to be wheezing my way up Roraima, I slept in and hung around Santa Elena for the day. Turns out that was an excellent idea because I befriended the grocery store owner and his brother took me for a motorcycle tour of the town (motorcycle ride in VZ, check!).
We ate dinner on this street called Calle del Hambre (Street of Hunger) - a long alley with little shops serving all sorts of things. I got fried chicken which (despite being deep fried) turned out to still be bloody...lost my appetite after that bit. After popping some cold pills (shout out to Eric's mom, our beloved Nurse Karen, who'd brought a pharmacy of medicine that SAVED me and the rest of the ETAs when my little bug mutated and jumped to them), I settled in for my last night in a bed, feeling less-than-excited about starting some real outdoorsyness the next day.
Not to fade to black here, but there's not much to say about the six days at Roraima except that they were tough as hell, amazing, spectacular, and wonderful. I learned that not only do I not dislike camping, I LOVE it. I slept in a tent, drank water from streams, and was super proud of myself for being able to do numero dos (as the porters so eloquently called it) in the woods and then later in a plastic bag (yes, that's right, how's THAT for imagery?)
I got my butt kicked for about four hours each morning as we tackled anywhere from 5-12 kilometers a day over all sorts of terrain (the 5k day took four hours because we were literally scaling a mountain, up 60-degree inclines at some point). The terrain was incredible; in three days, we went from savannah, to rolling hills (looking like something out of the Sound of Music), to Amazon, to something other-wordly, dinosaury rock terrain.
We woke up on the morning of the 24th (when Venezuelans traditionally celebrate Christmas) on the top of Roraima with blue skies and an amazing view. Christmas Eve was back at Day 1's base camp, where we huddled around a fire eating some alfredo pasta. Note on the food: it was amazing and possibly one of the best parts of the trip. We all thought we'd be living on rice and beans; instead we were surprised with egg-salad sandwiches, tuna salad, pasta, and some excellent soups. I've heard everything tastes better when you're camping but REALLY- this was some awesome food. There were also snack bags; plastic bags of everything ranging from hard strawberry candies and guava chews, to the VZ equivalent of Saltines and banana chips. They were meant to last us the six days but some of us were better at rationing than others.
The three-person tent I shared with Jillian and Olga quickly became the party tent for our little crew and we all piled in (I think we had eight people at once) in the evenings, partly for warmth, and partly to stay sane. Other highlights: fjording rivers, the puri-puris (nasty little bugs that bite you and then the bites don't itch til a few days later), the amazing stars. There was also the Christmas Eve drama that saw familia Buley split up, the parent stuck on one side of the river (after a dehydration scare) and the boys on the other; Christmas morning was all the better when everyone was reunited.
I was super proud of our group (and myself) after our 60km+ trek. Of the two other groups that were doing the hike while we were, one flat didn't make it to the top and only half of the other did. Everyone in our 23-person HUGE group made it up and back. Christmas dinner was pizza and rum. Followed by dancing at Santa Elena's fine discoteca...
Our little crew split up on the 27th, with all of us headed home to our respective cities.
For all the pictures, check Facebook!
The ETAs and the familia Buley (Eric's spectacular family who traveled down to Venezuela to hike with the rest of us) formed a powerhouse group of ten and conquered Canaima National Park (this HUGE park in the southern part of VZ). We met up in Ciudad Bolivar where a short (and nauseating) trip in a TOO small plane carried us to a tiny village tucked into Canaima; the starting point for expeditions to Angel Falls. Angel Falls, you say? Yes, that's the tallest waterfall in the world. Also, it's the waterfall from the movie 'Up!'.
The three-day trip around Canaima's best waterfalls was a great primer for the looming Roraima trek. While we weren't in tents, and there were (gracias a Dios) bathrooms, we slept in hammocks one night, did some decent hiking and generally spent all day in the great outdoors. A 5-hour boat ride took us from the Canaima lagoon (where we enjoyed our first successful beach day!) up to Angel Falls territory. We discovered that a 5-hour boat ride sounds cool but is actually very rough on the derriere, especially when you're sitting upright in a teensy wooden boat with VERY hard seats.
 |
| 5 hours in this bad boy! A lot less fun than it sounds... |
An hour-long trek up a mountain and we were before IT (and it deserves the All Caps). Sixteen times the height of Niagara Falls, Angel Falls was breathtakingly beautiful; turns out the one good thing about the record amounts of rainfall across the country was that the water flow for Salto Angel was PERFECT. We even got to swim in the pool that the falls dumps into. There was lots of swimming in cold (or 'mountain fresh', if you're looking to be optimistic) pools.
 |
| Angel Falls aka Salto Angel |
A trip back to base camp (only 2.5 hours by boat this time, since we were going with the current), and we flew back to Ciudad Bolivar (with our pilot who texted while flying...comforting) and hopped an overnight bus to the border town of Santa Elena. Our mere 12-hour ride stretched into a 16hr+ ride; apparently were stopped at a fuel station for two hours overnight because there was no gas. At the gas station. In an oil-rich country.
By the time we arrived in Santa Elena we were famished and ready for a big lunch. So we hopped the border and went to Brazil, where we enjoyed a spectacular buffet that featured skewers of oven-roasted meat brought to your table (for those of you posh eaters, it was like Fogo de Chao, but for about 6USD). We weren't slated to leave for Roraima for another day or two. The others spent a day checking out some more of Canaima's waterfalls (yup, after an overnight bus trip, we were STILL in the park), but I was fighting a pretty bad cold, and not wanting to be wheezing my way up Roraima, I slept in and hung around Santa Elena for the day. Turns out that was an excellent idea because I befriended the grocery store owner and his brother took me for a motorcycle tour of the town (motorcycle ride in VZ, check!).
 |
| Mmmmm...Brazil.... |
We ate dinner on this street called Calle del Hambre (Street of Hunger) - a long alley with little shops serving all sorts of things. I got fried chicken which (despite being deep fried) turned out to still be bloody...lost my appetite after that bit. After popping some cold pills (shout out to Eric's mom, our beloved Nurse Karen, who'd brought a pharmacy of medicine that SAVED me and the rest of the ETAs when my little bug mutated and jumped to them), I settled in for my last night in a bed, feeling less-than-excited about starting some real outdoorsyness the next day.
Not to fade to black here, but there's not much to say about the six days at Roraima except that they were tough as hell, amazing, spectacular, and wonderful. I learned that not only do I not dislike camping, I LOVE it. I slept in a tent, drank water from streams, and was super proud of myself for being able to do numero dos (as the porters so eloquently called it) in the woods and then later in a plastic bag (yes, that's right, how's THAT for imagery?)
 |
| Day 1 of our hike! All clean and perky! |
I got my butt kicked for about four hours each morning as we tackled anywhere from 5-12 kilometers a day over all sorts of terrain (the 5k day took four hours because we were literally scaling a mountain, up 60-degree inclines at some point). The terrain was incredible; in three days, we went from savannah, to rolling hills (looking like something out of the Sound of Music), to Amazon, to something other-wordly, dinosaury rock terrain.
We woke up on the morning of the 24th (when Venezuelans traditionally celebrate Christmas) on the top of Roraima with blue skies and an amazing view. Christmas Eve was back at Day 1's base camp, where we huddled around a fire eating some alfredo pasta. Note on the food: it was amazing and possibly one of the best parts of the trip. We all thought we'd be living on rice and beans; instead we were surprised with egg-salad sandwiches, tuna salad, pasta, and some excellent soups. I've heard everything tastes better when you're camping but REALLY- this was some awesome food. There were also snack bags; plastic bags of everything ranging from hard strawberry candies and guava chews, to the VZ equivalent of Saltines and banana chips. They were meant to last us the six days but some of us were better at rationing than others.
 |
| Feliz Navidad! The group on the 24th, doing some morning yoga on top of Roraima |
The three-person tent I shared with Jillian and Olga quickly became the party tent for our little crew and we all piled in (I think we had eight people at once) in the evenings, partly for warmth, and partly to stay sane. Other highlights: fjording rivers, the puri-puris (nasty little bugs that bite you and then the bites don't itch til a few days later), the amazing stars. There was also the Christmas Eve drama that saw familia Buley split up, the parent stuck on one side of the river (after a dehydration scare) and the boys on the other; Christmas morning was all the better when everyone was reunited.
I was super proud of our group (and myself) after our 60km+ trek. Of the two other groups that were doing the hike while we were, one flat didn't make it to the top and only half of the other did. Everyone in our 23-person HUGE group made it up and back. Christmas dinner was pizza and rum. Followed by dancing at Santa Elena's fine discoteca...
Our little crew split up on the 27th, with all of us headed home to our respective cities.
For all the pictures, check Facebook!
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