Training Wheels

The Monday before last, I started practice teaching a two-week course in Quito. It's basically a chance for us volunteers to take our first wobbly steps as educators (before we start teaching in our assigned provinces). Despite my year in Americorps in front of, shall I say, energetic high school students, I still felt undeniably nervous about this little two-week experiment. How much English would my students know already? Would I have five students or forty? It was hard to say.

Really, though, there is no predicting a class in Ecuador. Though all self-classified as “beginner,” in every other way my students are as diverse as if you had just unloaded a city bus straight to my classroom door. The would-be English speakers include Joshua, a daunted-looking 15-year-old whose mother clearly signed him up for the course, to Patricio, a spry middle-aged man who enthusiastically pumps everyone’s hand upon arriving, to Ramiro, a lackadaisically confident 22-year old with long curly hair, who props his feet up on his desk and smirks while yelling out the answers before all the other students.

Because all we volunteers are technically practice teaching, the class is free for students. That means there is not only a range in ability but also in dedication. I’ve had students pop into class just long enough to learn their favorite color in English before apparently running for their lives, and other more dedicated students burst into class 45 minutes late, straight from work and breathless. Despite the mayhem, though, most students can at least now order food in a restaurant, go grocery shopping, recite a morning schedule, and identify their profession in English (or some version thereof). They have also learned how to play BINGO, a crucial skill should they ever retire to small-town Minnesota. I, in turn, have had the amusement of seeing grown men in business suits all simultaneously color a menu.

Even with all the preparation for lesson plans, there’s still been time for some adventures. Last weekend several of us volunteers climbed Mt. Pichincha. It’s said to be about 13,000 feet, so not nearly as high as many of the neighboring volcanoes, but still high enough to leave you winded and to make the sprawl of Quito look like Lego Land. The entire way up, we were treated to absolutely stunning views, the breadth and distance of which is impossible to capture on a camera. I’ve never seen planes fly below me before. Well, we got these views almost all the way up; near the top, a rush of clouds engulfed the mountain in a matter of minutes, reducing our vision to pure white. Exciting, in a way, but also a little scary as we scrabbled our way down the rock face, dodging drops of rain and hail. I’m happy to say that the only damage done was an achy muscle or two, and we were ready to start classes again on Monday.