Bloodbath
When you were young you were the King of everything around you….or at least that is the way life could seem to feel at different times or different situations. Boundless energy, boundless confidence mixed with gripping fear over the exposing of the confidence previously mentioned as false and a front all along. I have been the best in certain situations at certain things at different times in my life and everyone has experienced this at some time or another. At those times it is easy to lose any grounding we may have possessed. Arrogance is a foolish and selfish endeavor but a human one that none of us have not at least dipped our toes in. I myself still hold a certain amount at certain times and while the effort to change that has been great for me over the last number of years….it rears its ugly head on occasion. Last week it did just that and taught me a lesson I will not soon forget.
I am currently teaching English classes two days a week in a local high school. Tuesdays and Thursdays In the mornings between 9-11 and the afternoons of 2:30-4:30 to a combined group of about 50 students. Last week was my first full week doing so and it went as well as I thought it possibly could if you consider a number of things.
1. I do not know their language.
2. They do not know mine
3. I have never been a teacher of any kind
4. I genuinely enjoy only the presence of my niece and nephew……and the children of my college friends.
5. I terrify most children.
However these kids range between 12 and 17 years old and have for the most part an eagerness to learn a bit of our native tongue. Kids here got to school for half a day…..in turn these kids signed up voluntarily for these extra classes which makes them a bit of a better subject group than the standard force fed lot you find in the average prison of a classroom. I can only imagine signing up for extra school time when I was in High School…I spent the majority of my days thinking up and executing different schemes to escape class at all costs. It is not fair to say I have no interest in intellect but it is more than fair to say I am just not good at the pursuit of it. I could have been something…..a doctor, a lawyer, a purveyor of all things good and virtuous-as my mother claims she has possession of a photo in which she states I am holding a bottle like a bible as a toddler….I am however currently teaching a group of Peruvians how to give a basic description of themselves in English. My name is _____________, I am _____ years old, and I like ______________. It warms my heart to see them butcher my language as I do theirs on a daily basis……the worse the better for me. I of course want to help them and find joy in their successes as well.
Last weekend I received a gift package from my good friend Melissa Binder with some facial lotion to keep myself from shriveling prune style as I ride the equator on a daily basis, and a series of my favorite candies….Nerds, Skittles, Starbursts etc. Last week I brought a slew of these American Dulces with me to reward students for a job well done during an outdoor activity I designed. They clamored as seals do at an aquatic theme park for these candies…they have good candy here….I would not say starburst good but some things close but since they are American I think they believe the candy to be some sort of cultural Viagra. Regardless in one way or another the topic of athletics was broached as we were outside on their recently dedicated soccer field. In our standards it would be considered a bit shabby…but all in all it is a respectable field …..actually better than the one I practiced on as a youth during my days at my now bankrupt and discontinued alma mater C.J.C.S. Regardless the idea of a race was proposed for the final candies in hand…..at which point well I do not know how it came about…but I know within some short time I was arranged to run in a foot race of epic proportions. The 34 year old Gringo in Khakis albeit it free flowing ones…I do not sport an overly tight trouser and hiking boots verses the male contingent of my class. The length of the field for the final candy…..of course equality was involved….the girls ran first and the handsome reward of a Lemon Starburst was gifted out (they have no idea that is the weakest of all Starburst flavors mind you). Of course the girls race drew the attention of the soccer game going on in an alternative location and the attention of at least 100 other students. My competition grew from 20 to….I have no idea 75-100 all lined up across this field. I remembered how fast I was in High School, I recalled my days of blazing past people on the field of different athletics and I thought myself to be in a bit of trouble and nervous….I twice delayed the start of the race to compose myself and to clarify the start…..at Uno, dos, tres…..or Uno, dos, tres….and then go. I however at some point during this time received a shot of adrenaline the likes I would compare to few I have had. The race was off and despite my hiking boots and khakis I was determined to run as hard as I possibly could, and I was determined to make a respectable showing. Half way through the race I looked to my sides and no one…..there were a few kids nipping on my heels and I just sold out….I mean I felt half horse at that very moment….I surged in a way I did not know my legs were capable of anymore at this point….3/4 through the race and I am blowing doors off these kids and not letting up…it only made me run harder, and with more vigor….my strides were long, and my arms were now pumping like they leveraged my every step. I could have let up and coasted to a victory and been the hero gringo but instead I had to punish the youth and in turn made a grave error. As I rapidly approached the end of the field I realized there was in fact a soccer goal in front of my exit which I had not noticed due to me gleefully looking over my shoulder at my meager opponents….in turn a quick turn was needed…..when I say when this field ends it is as sandy as the Sahara but with a lot more big rocks and uncomfortable divets. As I hit that dirt portion I began something of what I would describe as an eight step fall…..I should have just collapsed and taken the fall instead I fought it like the jacka*ss who steps on ice and tries to run himself out of the fall…..my body acted as an airplane going into a run way with no landing gear and I suffered the most ungraceful fall in all of my 34 years…..it was like something out of a blooper video with a lot more dust and violence. An instant Albatross was born. As I came to a violent rolling end and gathered myself I was quickly reminded that this took place in front of no less than 100 students who were now torn between utter glee and terror as I trudged up with only one pant leg below the knee and blood flowing as freely as whisky after an Irish Funeral. I was stunned and dizzy and of course in denial of all of it as a few teachers quickly swooped in to tend to me……and made me sit down so now all of the school could gather around the now completely covered in dirt and blood gringo….I looked like I got dipped in bread crumbs and someone put a cherry on my knee. They were all very kind, but of course that can only last so long as I myself began to consider how funny I would have thought this situation to be if I was observing from a distance. I began to laugh, I believe they thought me to have a head trauma because I could not stop….in turn the kids started to laugh and everything turned out pretty well. My wound was cleaned with what I believe to be petro, my pants are now being attempted to be mended by a local Senora, and I receive at least half dozen taunts a day in the street. I expected more.
Pride always comes before the fall-they never mention the lasting humiliation after……..
I still won the race.
I am currently teaching English classes two days a week in a local high school. Tuesdays and Thursdays In the mornings between 9-11 and the afternoons of 2:30-4:30 to a combined group of about 50 students. Last week was my first full week doing so and it went as well as I thought it possibly could if you consider a number of things.
1. I do not know their language.
2. They do not know mine
3. I have never been a teacher of any kind
4. I genuinely enjoy only the presence of my niece and nephew……and the children of my college friends.
5. I terrify most children.
However these kids range between 12 and 17 years old and have for the most part an eagerness to learn a bit of our native tongue. Kids here got to school for half a day…..in turn these kids signed up voluntarily for these extra classes which makes them a bit of a better subject group than the standard force fed lot you find in the average prison of a classroom. I can only imagine signing up for extra school time when I was in High School…I spent the majority of my days thinking up and executing different schemes to escape class at all costs. It is not fair to say I have no interest in intellect but it is more than fair to say I am just not good at the pursuit of it. I could have been something…..a doctor, a lawyer, a purveyor of all things good and virtuous-as my mother claims she has possession of a photo in which she states I am holding a bottle like a bible as a toddler….I am however currently teaching a group of Peruvians how to give a basic description of themselves in English. My name is _____________, I am _____ years old, and I like ______________. It warms my heart to see them butcher my language as I do theirs on a daily basis……the worse the better for me. I of course want to help them and find joy in their successes as well.
Last weekend I received a gift package from my good friend Melissa Binder with some facial lotion to keep myself from shriveling prune style as I ride the equator on a daily basis, and a series of my favorite candies….Nerds, Skittles, Starbursts etc. Last week I brought a slew of these American Dulces with me to reward students for a job well done during an outdoor activity I designed. They clamored as seals do at an aquatic theme park for these candies…they have good candy here….I would not say starburst good but some things close but since they are American I think they believe the candy to be some sort of cultural Viagra. Regardless in one way or another the topic of athletics was broached as we were outside on their recently dedicated soccer field. In our standards it would be considered a bit shabby…but all in all it is a respectable field …..actually better than the one I practiced on as a youth during my days at my now bankrupt and discontinued alma mater C.J.C.S. Regardless the idea of a race was proposed for the final candies in hand…..at which point well I do not know how it came about…but I know within some short time I was arranged to run in a foot race of epic proportions. The 34 year old Gringo in Khakis albeit it free flowing ones…I do not sport an overly tight trouser and hiking boots verses the male contingent of my class. The length of the field for the final candy…..of course equality was involved….the girls ran first and the handsome reward of a Lemon Starburst was gifted out (they have no idea that is the weakest of all Starburst flavors mind you). Of course the girls race drew the attention of the soccer game going on in an alternative location and the attention of at least 100 other students. My competition grew from 20 to….I have no idea 75-100 all lined up across this field. I remembered how fast I was in High School, I recalled my days of blazing past people on the field of different athletics and I thought myself to be in a bit of trouble and nervous….I twice delayed the start of the race to compose myself and to clarify the start…..at Uno, dos, tres…..or Uno, dos, tres….and then go. I however at some point during this time received a shot of adrenaline the likes I would compare to few I have had. The race was off and despite my hiking boots and khakis I was determined to run as hard as I possibly could, and I was determined to make a respectable showing. Half way through the race I looked to my sides and no one…..there were a few kids nipping on my heels and I just sold out….I mean I felt half horse at that very moment….I surged in a way I did not know my legs were capable of anymore at this point….3/4 through the race and I am blowing doors off these kids and not letting up…it only made me run harder, and with more vigor….my strides were long, and my arms were now pumping like they leveraged my every step. I could have let up and coasted to a victory and been the hero gringo but instead I had to punish the youth and in turn made a grave error. As I rapidly approached the end of the field I realized there was in fact a soccer goal in front of my exit which I had not noticed due to me gleefully looking over my shoulder at my meager opponents….in turn a quick turn was needed…..when I say when this field ends it is as sandy as the Sahara but with a lot more big rocks and uncomfortable divets. As I hit that dirt portion I began something of what I would describe as an eight step fall…..I should have just collapsed and taken the fall instead I fought it like the jacka*ss who steps on ice and tries to run himself out of the fall…..my body acted as an airplane going into a run way with no landing gear and I suffered the most ungraceful fall in all of my 34 years…..it was like something out of a blooper video with a lot more dust and violence. An instant Albatross was born. As I came to a violent rolling end and gathered myself I was quickly reminded that this took place in front of no less than 100 students who were now torn between utter glee and terror as I trudged up with only one pant leg below the knee and blood flowing as freely as whisky after an Irish Funeral. I was stunned and dizzy and of course in denial of all of it as a few teachers quickly swooped in to tend to me……and made me sit down so now all of the school could gather around the now completely covered in dirt and blood gringo….I looked like I got dipped in bread crumbs and someone put a cherry on my knee. They were all very kind, but of course that can only last so long as I myself began to consider how funny I would have thought this situation to be if I was observing from a distance. I began to laugh, I believe they thought me to have a head trauma because I could not stop….in turn the kids started to laugh and everything turned out pretty well. My wound was cleaned with what I believe to be petro, my pants are now being attempted to be mended by a local Senora, and I receive at least half dozen taunts a day in the street. I expected more.
Pride always comes before the fall-they never mention the lasting humiliation after……..
I still won the race.
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