The End of The Beginning

Suddenly, with the fanfare of the end of term exams and the obligatory sugar-fuelled party classes on the final Friday, I was no longer a teacher; my semester had reached its conclusion. Memories still bounce around inside my skull of the final day, recorded with forensic precision in my personal journal; my smallest and roundest student from my 4pm class, Nimsy, participating only partially in the "construct a mummy" race as he stood in his giant heeled wheely shoes gazing with affection at the miniature donut in his hand as a team mate knelt at his feet, industriously wrapping them in toilet paper; the unexpected and terrifying wall of early teenage female hormones that doused me in tearful goodbye hugs as my 5pm class said their farewells; the highly dubious homemade money for my 6pm class game of poker, ranging in value from $73 per note to an ambitious $100,000.

Goodbyes were said all round; students, teachers, mexican family and friends amassed over the last 6 months, and with little delay I very nearly ran to the colectivo stop on Saturday morning in my final bid to escape the heat, dogs, noise and watered down local celebrity status of white, foreign, confused teacher.

How does one summarise 6 months of being dug into a small town, and reflect with brevity on the experience? Maybe a better Blog Scribe than I could achieve it, but I struggle. The fundamental things that shuffle into focus are the times of incredible challenge and difficulty trying to build meaningful relationships and assert oneself in a town which had no scope for English communication, the kindness and curiosity of the population of Chiapa de Corzo, the blistering heat and propensity for incessent sweating, the rollercoaster of teaching children and teenagers, a blend of teeth grinding patience, magical humour and dark longings for the return of corporal punishment.

It has been a true test of my self assurance and personal security, being given license to interpret every situation in which I flounder without the benefit of understanding on a daily and frequent basis as a positive, strengthening learning experience; grasping constantly for some hook, some point of understanding as to how those around me are feeling and how it is reflected in their relating to me.

With this first step away from the securities and familiarities that sit thousands of miles away back on the shores of Jolly Old England, even in these early stages of change I can appreciate in retrospect that all the struggle and difficulty has been for the benefit of, paso a paso, becoming closer to where I am.

San Cristobal de Las Casas
6th July 2009