Highlights of the Week

I keep remembering that the very first time we came to Brazil with a big group of young people back in 2001 that I said out loud, “I could live here.” And now, here I am. It surprises both Jess and I over and over again. Every few days one of us says to the other, “Can you believe we’re living in Brazil?” Usually we can’t. We had a great week. Exhausting, but good to the core.

Music in the street
Monday was a long day, starting at 5:15am (which turned out to be exceedingly early – even after sauntering to school from where the bus dropped us off, we arrived at 6:40. . . we now know to catch the 6:30 bus rather than the 6:05) and ending with an after-school meeting at around 4:15. By the time we’d caught the bus home and were walking down our street it was getting to be dinner time, and we were pretty tuckered out. Deep in conversation as we neared our place, we faintly heard music drifting through the commotion of the busy street, getting progressively more definite as we continued on our way. When we got close enough we saw that in a tiny used instruments shop a lady was trying out a keyboard while the shop owner accompanied her on his guitar. The chorus stopped us in our tracks, and we just stood staring across the street, taking in the sight, the sounds, the moment:

At the cross, at the cross where I first saw the light
And the burden of my heart rolled away
It was there by faith I received my sight
And now I am happy all the day

It was as if my senses picked up signals from all the outward stimuli and worked together to cause all the emotions of that particular moment of my life – joy, sadness, restfulness, anticipation – to surface. It’s hard to put certain feelings into words, but I think the sentiment that wafted over me was a recognition of the changeableness and fragility of life, and a subsequent welling up of an appreciation for all I had at that very moment. And for some reason, it made me cry.

Caught in the Rain
There was a staff meeting at 6:15pm on Tuesday, which we hadn’t known about until we arrived in the morning. With our friend Denise, who is here from the Philippines for a year to do the same thing as we are doing, we walked to a bakery after school to get away for a bit and have something to eat. On the way back to school there was thunder and ominous clouds, which made us hurry on our way. We had to leave the meeting early because we’re all living so far away and wanted to be home before dark. Had we known the amount of rain that was coming, we would have left earlier. But we hadn’t known, and just as we were reaching Denise’s bus stop, it started pouring. Denise had an umbrella, which she and Jess shared, and a girl named Sebastiana offered to share hers with me. It poured. Our shoes and jeans and were soaking wet. We waited and waited and waited for Denise’s bus to come. It got dark. Her bus finally came, and she was on her way with her umbrella. Jess and my umbrella’s are currently in a suitcase in São Paulo at Arne’s house, so we were grateful that the rain let up as we started towards our bus stop a few blocks away. The let up was short-lived. We got poured on. I kept having to wipe my eyes because I couldn’t see for all the water in them. I had to laugh at myself, because even though there wasn’t anything left of me to get wet, I was still jumping to try and avoid puddles. The rain was warm enough that I wasn’t uncomfortable despite the fact that I was only wearing a sleeveless top. Our bus was a long time in coming, and by the time we finally got home (two hours after we’d left the school) both of us were quite ready for a hot shower and dry clothes. All in all, it was a thrilling adventure. I loved every minute of it.

Culture Shock
After the first day of school, which came with an overload of awakenings and realizations, I felt like, a year is going to be a long time. Same thing after the second day. Both Jess and I had shocking realizations about how much we are not from here by running into school-culture culture shock. When we talked later, we found out that we’d gone through the same thing feelings as we watched our teaching partners affectionately hug and kiss the students as they arrived; and I emphasize, affectionately. I felt like the most freezing-cold stiff person on the planet. I’ve never felt extremely uncomfortable with the warmth of South American people the way some people do. In fact, I like it. But in the context of school my whole being forbade it. Throughout our teacher education, it was emphasized, and reemphasized, and re-reemphasized about the importance to not ever show anything that could be interpreted as love towards your students. In fact, it’s best not to let them know that you’re a human being just in case someday someone happens to interpret what you do in a way you wouldn’t want them to and . . . the inevitable negative consequences of your good-hearted intentions occurs. I only slightly exaggerate. We were told to be sure never to do this, and never to do that, to the point that once we were actually teaching, it was awkward to receive hugs when the kids gave them to us just because.

It’s not the only difference in school-culture, however, which has made me realize that one can’t go from being a Canadian teacher to being a Brazilian teacher just by way of teaching in a Brazilian school. I know I will inevitably be changed after this year, because we as human beings have an incredible ability to adapt. I am already having to fight and hold on to my Canadian English – we are in such a strong Brazilian English environment that when I speak to the kids, I can already here the lilts as my voice rises and falls in ways it ‘should’ not. But I’m excited to change and be changed by the coming year. A year is a long time, but that’s not a bad thing.

The Kids
By day three I lead an activity with the kids in my class and was reminded again why I became a teacher in the first place. As they came up to me one by one, or called out to me, “Ms. Joy, Ms. Joy – come see”, and as they crawled into my lap at circle time I remembered how much I love being with kids, and how much I love to be able to be a positive influence in their lives. I’ve already gotten attached to my two classes, and realize that a year is going to be over all too soon. There are a few who stand out:

J – the little blond boy from Australia, with his two front teeth missing and constantly has a shock of hair falling into his eyes, who has an incredible accent and can’t speak enough Australian English to satisfy my desire to hear it
D – our new arrival from Pakistan who also has an incredible accent, and cannot speak without smiling
D – a little charmer who has an incredible personality, and loves to joke around, but who also has an incredibly strong will (he refuses to eat anything he doesn’t like and at lunch every day he eats a plateful of rice with salt on it) and is my challenge to discover ways to make him want to do things he thinks he doesn’t want to do
P – an adorable little boy who makes every effort to speak English, and speaks it in such a way that makes him seem much older than his seven years
C – a girl of Kenyan and Finnish decent, who is always ready for everything that’s going on
M – C’s friend, who is an extremely definite little girl
M – a boy who I’ve already gotten through in terms of a change of attitude, and who I’m looking forward to being with the rest of the year

I could go on, but I must eat breakfast so that we can go and accomplish things today.