Most nights end with me covered in bugs.
They stick in the hairs on the back of my neck, fly in my mouth when I talk, and buzz around my students, creating unbeatable competition for their attention. Admittedly, it’s kind of fun to watch the teenage girls freak out: “Ai, teacher! Bichos!”
I’m not sure of the translation for bichos, but think no-see-ums you can just barely see. They’re everywhere now because it’s transitioning to the rainy season. They don’t bite, but they do swarm, and they’ve found my classroom a great place to do so.
This is to say nothing of the outsize ants that drop from the ceiling, or the hard-shelled black beetles that crunch hideously when stepped on (you hope it’s a week-old pretzel, but it never is).
Many aspects of teaching abroad would be recognizable to a teacher anywhere: Overeager students asking too many questions, aloof students who don’t care. Teenage drama. Disciplinary issues. Administrative entanglements.
I’ve faced all that. Some things, though, no teaching course can prepare you for. Classes have been impossible because of noise from torrential downpours. My whiteboard has gone missing. I’ve had to climb through the window to get into the classroom.
The volunteer coordinator for CREST made a site visit to Puerto Jimenez a week or so ago. I asked her what seems to be the connecting thread among successful volunteers (not presuming I am one). At first, I was surprised when she said it’s not necessarily teaching experience, but more that a person has familiarity with living abroad and has developed the flexibility to cope its challenges.
In retrospect, it makes total sense. If a person came to Costa Rica – or anywhere else, really – expecting a traditional teaching experience, they would be frustrated before they had a chance to give a pop quiz. That’s not to say I don’t get frustrated: the obstacles I face continue to confound me, even a few months in.
And, now that I’ve got a class bottle of bug repellent, let’s hope that I’m ready for the next one.
Kent Green is currently teaching English in Puerto Jimenez, Costa Rica through Costa Rican English for Sustainable Tourism, a project of ALIARSE. For more on his experiences, check out his blog or follow him on Twitter.
Latest posts by kentgreen
- The Centries: Handing Out Awards to Central America - August 9th, 2010
- Sub-juncting Myself to a Test of Generosity - August 4th, 2010
- Nobody (At Least Not Me) Knows the Trouble Guatemala's Seen - August 2nd, 2010
- Oh No, Ojos! (or, Why Gringos Don't Make Eye Contact) - July 28th, 2010
- We Dance If We Want To (so why don't we?) - July 26th, 2010
- Getting Schooled in Spanish Schools - July 21st, 2010
- Guatemala's REAL Danger: Not Wanting to Leave - July 19th, 2010
- Living the High Life (and not even knowing it) - July 14th, 2010
- The Devils of Panama City - July 7th, 2010
- Paging Maintenance, We Have a Crisis in Aisle 4 - July 5th, 2010
Wow, maybe I can’t complain; at least my classes have walls.
What always gets me is how teaching books/courses just assume you’ll have access to a CD player, video, and/or the Internet. They’re so out of touch with the reality in many of the places that need English education most.
More and more I am amazed at what you have to deal with on a daily basis! Keep on being the positive and flexible!!
Yes! This post is dead on. When I was teaching in Guyana, it wasn’t so much the teaching that was difficult but the other unforeseen challenges: the fact that my school lacked walls and classrooms were separated by chalkboards, teachers frequently didn’t show up to their classes which caused a ton of chaos, deafening noise from the rain, etc…It’s interesting how nobody really ever talks about these things. So thanks!