School starts tomorrow. One school rule: all girls must have their nails cut and nail polish free. Sophie and I were given the responsibility to check to make sure all of the senior girls had done so. Now mind you, these are the oldest girls in the house, and I expected cut and clean nails all around.
Wrong.
A few of them had hidden away their long nails all day from inspecting caregivers. Others who still had their nails painted told me they didn’t have nail polish remover (usually a lie). Others with uncut nails said they couldn’t find nail clippers (definitely a lie).
Most of the time I forget that these girls are just that: girls. When I come in to tell them to cut their nails, and they refuse to do so, I’m reminded that in high school I too didn’t always acted my age. These 16, 17, 18-year-olds refusal to clean up their nails is just like when I stalked off because I didn’t want to do something. It’s about them expressing their independence. About them showing me that they are young adults, and not kids who need to listen to a parent figure.
Being a grown-up is tough work.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
The start of my backup dancing career
Thursday, August 20th
The Clausura - end of summer activities performances. Including performances by the:
Student band
Traditional dance group
Tribal dancing group
Aerobics dance group
And closing with presentation of certificates and display of ceramics.
One guess as to what activity I participated in based on this picture:
Oh my my, me dió mucha mucha pena (aka sooo embarrassing). Though, respect earned. Perhaps too much from the high school boys.
The Clausura - end of summer activities performances. Including performances by the:
Student band
Traditional dance group
Tribal dancing group
Aerobics dance group
And closing with presentation of certificates and display of ceramics.
One guess as to what activity I participated in based on this picture:
Oh my my, me dió mucha mucha pena (aka sooo embarrassing). Though, respect earned. Perhaps too much from the high school boys.
Earning the reputation of a klutz
Thursday, August 20th
Going down the stairs from my house to where all the kids live has proved to be my biggest challenge.
This morning, on the way to breakfast, I fell on my butt yet again.
On the way to the comedor (cafeteria) I run into Anai. She notices a smudge of dirt on my arm. “What happened” she asks. “I fell” I say. Her response, “again?”
After eating breakfast I run into Erika. She looks down at my leg and says “you’re really dirty and need to take a bath.” I told her I fell, she looks at me and rolls her eyes, as if to say, “of course you did.”
From this day on I make a vow to take more precaution when wearing my $3 Old Navy flip flops after it has rained.
Goodbye, Sweet Facebook, Goodbye
Monday, August 17th
We’ve had a series of major storms. The internet never fails to cut out at the first strike of lightening.
The internet has finally returned for the first time in five days. This time, however, it failed to come back with Facebook.
At a recent meeting with the directors, we were talking about the challenges of Facebook in raising/supervising 180 high schoolers. They decided to block their access. Little did I know that the entire NPH network has been blocked off from it, included the network in my house.
So long late nights of Facebook stalking.
For those of you who might be concerned with my ability to communicate through Facebook, no worries. The network at the volunteers’ house a couple of blocks away remains unrestricted. I will still engage in my Facebook postings/responses/stalking, etc, just in a delayed fashion.
No, Mr. Facebook man, sadly I do not.
We’ve had a series of major storms. The internet never fails to cut out at the first strike of lightening.
The internet has finally returned for the first time in five days. This time, however, it failed to come back with Facebook.
At a recent meeting with the directors, we were talking about the challenges of Facebook in raising/supervising 180 high schoolers. They decided to block their access. Little did I know that the entire NPH network has been blocked off from it, included the network in my house.
So long late nights of Facebook stalking.
For those of you who might be concerned with my ability to communicate through Facebook, no worries. The network at the volunteers’ house a couple of blocks away remains unrestricted. I will still engage in my Facebook postings/responses/stalking, etc, just in a delayed fashion.
No, Mr. Facebook man, sadly I do not.
Friday, August 21, 2009
First (and last) submersion in green water
Thursday, August 13th
Last of the summer excursion to the third water park of the summer: Iztapan. Water supplied by hot water through the ground providing a pleasant experience compared to the freezing cold water of other parks.
For some reason, the lazy river had green water. Not that anyone hesitated to go in.
Day ended with a complete fail. I succeeded in breaking off the door to the storage space under the bus and saying really loud f*** in Spanish because I just wasn’t thinking. When you say curse words in another language, it just doesn’t really seem that bad in your head before you say it. Then you say it and see the expressions on the kids’ faces. Then you proceed to die.
Last of the summer excursion to the third water park of the summer: Iztapan. Water supplied by hot water through the ground providing a pleasant experience compared to the freezing cold water of other parks.
For some reason, the lazy river had green water. Not that anyone hesitated to go in.
Day ended with a complete fail. I succeeded in breaking off the door to the storage space under the bus and saying really loud f*** in Spanish because I just wasn’t thinking. When you say curse words in another language, it just doesn’t really seem that bad in your head before you say it. Then you say it and see the expressions on the kids’ faces. Then you proceed to die.
Why does Team USA blow at soccer?
Wednesday, August 12th
USA vs. Mexico
I had been looking forward to this day for two weeks. The day when the US would redeem itself from its shameful loss of 0-5 in the Gold Cup. This time, Team USA would have its secret weapon. This time, I would have something to brag about.
We all gathered in the entertainment room. All the kids wore their Mexican jerseys. I wore my red, white & blue. (The weekend before I had tried to find an American jersey, but NO ONE carried them, no t even on the black market. Mexicans, understandably, are not fans of their neighbors in soccer).
Early in the game, the US scores one. YES, we’re gonna have this. Then the US began to fail, fail, fail. And from half on, I received relentless taunts. Rightfully so, America did not play its best game. Thanks to their 2-0 loss, I get a complimentary month of:
“Hey Naomi, what was the score last week?”
“Hey Naomi, wait, who did Mexico win to?”
“Hey Naomi, I forget, is it Donavan that’s supposed to be good?”
Whatever, I can deal. I’m rubber and you’re glue. Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you.
USA vs. Mexico
I had been looking forward to this day for two weeks. The day when the US would redeem itself from its shameful loss of 0-5 in the Gold Cup. This time, Team USA would have its secret weapon. This time, I would have something to brag about.
We all gathered in the entertainment room. All the kids wore their Mexican jerseys. I wore my red, white & blue. (The weekend before I had tried to find an American jersey, but NO ONE carried them, no t even on the black market. Mexicans, understandably, are not fans of their neighbors in soccer).
Early in the game, the US scores one. YES, we’re gonna have this. Then the US began to fail, fail, fail. And from half on, I received relentless taunts. Rightfully so, America did not play its best game. Thanks to their 2-0 loss, I get a complimentary month of:
“Hey Naomi, what was the score last week?”
“Hey Naomi, wait, who did Mexico win to?”
“Hey Naomi, I forget, is it Donavan that’s supposed to be good?”
Whatever, I can deal. I’m rubber and you’re glue. Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you.
I survived a Mexican Amusement Park
Monday, August 10th
Summer excursion to Six Flags. I’m not gonna lie, I was a little scared for my life. With all the reputation about safety standards in Mexico not being as high as American ones, I didn’t exactly know what to expect. The American company name though definitely comforted me.
All in all a fun day. Another opportunity to get to know the kids and to goof around. I earned respect by going on all the big “juegos.” A lot of the kids didn’t even want to go to Six Flags because the rides “me dan miedo” (make me scared). How weird that none of the boys were afraid to admit it. Though it’s a very machismo culture here, the men aren’t afraid to be expressive/emotional. One of the many cultural differences.
Summer excursion to Six Flags. I’m not gonna lie, I was a little scared for my life. With all the reputation about safety standards in Mexico not being as high as American ones, I didn’t exactly know what to expect. The American company name though definitely comforted me.
All in all a fun day. Another opportunity to get to know the kids and to goof around. I earned respect by going on all the big “juegos.” A lot of the kids didn’t even want to go to Six Flags because the rides “me dan miedo” (make me scared). How weird that none of the boys were afraid to admit it. Though it’s a very machismo culture here, the men aren’t afraid to be expressive/emotional. One of the many cultural differences.
You can never see Harry Potter too many times
Wednesday, August 5th
Another summer excursion - this time to Cinemex Movie Theaters. 300 kids unleashed in the movie theater at 9:30 in the morning. Everyone receives a large popcorn and drink. The true backup in the line: at the lemon juice and hot sauce stand (the ever so popular condiments for every kind of junk food).
Options: Fuerza G, Harry Potter, or Terminator
I've come to the conclusion that movies dubbed over in Spanish are impossible to understand. When the words coming out of an actor's mouth are not the words I'm hearing, it just messes with my brain. Therefore, I decided to return to see Harry Potter once more. And with seeing it once in Spanish and a second time in English, my third experience of Harry Potter (second time in Spanish) was really a much pleasant and understanding experience.
Now, though, the kids think I'm a Harry Potter freak. So I've seen it three times in less than two weeks - so what? What a grip dude.
Another summer excursion - this time to Cinemex Movie Theaters. 300 kids unleashed in the movie theater at 9:30 in the morning. Everyone receives a large popcorn and drink. The true backup in the line: at the lemon juice and hot sauce stand (the ever so popular condiments for every kind of junk food).
Options: Fuerza G, Harry Potter, or Terminator
I've come to the conclusion that movies dubbed over in Spanish are impossible to understand. When the words coming out of an actor's mouth are not the words I'm hearing, it just messes with my brain. Therefore, I decided to return to see Harry Potter once more. And with seeing it once in Spanish and a second time in English, my third experience of Harry Potter (second time in Spanish) was really a much pleasant and understanding experience.
Now, though, the kids think I'm a Harry Potter freak. So I've seen it three times in less than two weeks - so what? What a grip dude.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
$5.50 pesos please
Saturday, August 8th
I’m a gabacha. That’s the Mexican word for “white girl.” With that title comes many “benefits,” including usually being overcharged for the bus. The fare for the buss is $4.50 pesos, but I soon learned that bus drivers would try to take advantage of my foreignness and charge me $5 or $5.50. I didn’t catch on at first, because the bus drivers would feign a higher price by asking us “A donde va?,” or “where are you going?” as if it mattered where (no – it’s a flat rate). I started to catch on when no matter what my answer was, they seemed to always charge me more than that $4.50.
So I started to take action. I either gave the bus driver exact change, or if I gave him more, I held out my hand expectedly, waiting. It worked for the most part until this past weekend. Sophie and I got on a bus, and the bus driver told us $5.50 each. We proceeded to argue with him, but he refused to charge us the normal $4.50. We walked off the bus to wait for the next one.
Second bus, same thing. $5.50 please. Really wanting to hold up our principle, but wanting to go the center even more, we just paid. I spied on all the Mexicans coming on the bus as they paid, and none of them paid $5.50. Once again, we were jacked. All the meanwhile we’re trying to figure out a strategy to look more “Mexicana.” That includes not wearing sunglasses, wearing tighter jeans, and oh yeah, having a skin tanning treatment. Well the last is impossible for me. Shoutout to pale skin.
The bus ride back, again we’re charged $5.50. Ok, now we think something’s up. Could the fare have been raised??
At dinner that night, I made the conversation center around bus fares (riveting), and what do I find out that this weekend bus fares have been RAISED TO $5.50. Of course. Now instead of someone who stands up for her principles, I’m an American gabacha a-hole. Figures.
I’m a gabacha. That’s the Mexican word for “white girl.” With that title comes many “benefits,” including usually being overcharged for the bus. The fare for the buss is $4.50 pesos, but I soon learned that bus drivers would try to take advantage of my foreignness and charge me $5 or $5.50. I didn’t catch on at first, because the bus drivers would feign a higher price by asking us “A donde va?,” or “where are you going?” as if it mattered where (no – it’s a flat rate). I started to catch on when no matter what my answer was, they seemed to always charge me more than that $4.50. So I started to take action. I either gave the bus driver exact change, or if I gave him more, I held out my hand expectedly, waiting. It worked for the most part until this past weekend. Sophie and I got on a bus, and the bus driver told us $5.50 each. We proceeded to argue with him, but he refused to charge us the normal $4.50. We walked off the bus to wait for the next one.
Second bus, same thing. $5.50 please. Really wanting to hold up our principle, but wanting to go the center even more, we just paid. I spied on all the Mexicans coming on the bus as they paid, and none of them paid $5.50. Once again, we were jacked. All the meanwhile we’re trying to figure out a strategy to look more “Mexicana.” That includes not wearing sunglasses, wearing tighter jeans, and oh yeah, having a skin tanning treatment. Well the last is impossible for me. Shoutout to pale skin.
The bus ride back, again we’re charged $5.50. Ok, now we think something’s up. Could the fare have been raised??
At dinner that night, I made the conversation center around bus fares (riveting), and what do I find out that this weekend bus fares have been RAISED TO $5.50. Of course. Now instead of someone who stands up for her principles, I’m an American gabacha a-hole. Figures.
Catch-Up Entries
I have failed to update as frequently as I intended. I'll catch up by posting about the last three weeks in a few groupings.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Happy Birthday NPH
Yesterday was the 55th anniversary for NPH. Celebrated with ex-pequenos and all-day long sports tournaments. Played on the basketball and volleyball women's teams.
Basketball: 0-4
Volleyball: 2-1
Slightly more success in volleyball. In fact, our worst lost in basketball was 26-6. I think my basketball career as of yesterday is over.
Men's team from the high school won in the finals!
Basketball: 0-4
Volleyball: 2-1
Slightly more success in volleyball. In fact, our worst lost in basketball was 26-6. I think my basketball career as of yesterday is over.
Men's team from the high school won in the finals!
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