Diving In

I started my CELTA class today!  I like all my fellow classmates, and our tutors seem to be pretty funny and truly interested in us and our success, so we're off to a good start.  We've already got a lot of work to do, and I think it'll only get more intense as we teach more involved lessons.  Tomorrow we're all splitting up the two-hour session with our learners and teaching a short activity each.  Talk about diving right in.  I think everyone in the class is unsure of what to expect, even though we observed our classes today and know generally what level the students are at, etc.  It's one thing to watch someone else teach and a whole different animal to do it yourself, but I'm glad that we're getting so much practice with this course, and starting right off the bat.  Stay tuned for the results...

Other than trying to recoop my health and energy to start class, I haven't been doing much for the past few days.  Taking it easy is good for me, and not something I do very often, so I suppose it was a good usage of time.  Since I've been pretty lazy and slightly bedridden, I've blasted through quite a few movies: Lord of the Rings (The Fellowship), Pirates #4, Crazy Stupid Love, Four Christmases, Water for Elephants, Puss in Boots...as well as catching up on past episodes of the Sing Off.  Disclaimer: I'm really not this much of a TV person.  I'd rather be outside doing something fun and active, but since my stomach wouldn't have liked that too well, and my knee won't let me go for a run anyway, I decided to give in to my sedate state and veg out.  I did enjoy it, but it's nice to be busy doing things again.  I may take that statement back next week when I'm run down, but for now I'm relishing in the purpose of each day.

Also, rather randomly, I've been doing some reflecting on life, relationships, and people, partly spurred by news from a dear friend of mine about the recent death of her father, and the anniversary of the death of a different dear friend's pops.  Both of these situations, though inherently very distinct from one another, seem incredibly unfair to me, and it's times like these when I have a hard time holding to my philosophy that everything happens for a reason.  I know eventually the reason will show from it, but is there ever really a reason that a loved one has to be taken away from us so suddenly and prematurely?  As cliché as it sounds, the obvious lesson from it is to appreciate the people you have in your life and let them know how much they mean to you, because they could be snatched away from you just like that.  Remind me again of why I've moved so far away from all the people I care about?

Interestingly enough, one of my housemates, Andrés (the elder) and I had a little conversation about this a few nights ago.  We were talking about the independence that so many kids in the states seem to adopt and feel entitled to, and how for some, family values have totally fallen by the wayside, in sharp contrast to the majority of people that I've met in Latin America.  He told me a story of a Colombian girl he knew who was here in Buenos Aires and decided to go home because she couldn't stand being so far away from all her family.  He asked me what I would do if one of my family members, like a grandparent, died...would I go back to be with everyone, or would I stay where I am in Buenos Aires?  I didn't have to think long about the answer, but I did pause for shame.  I honestly would stay where I am (this actually happened to me last summer while I was in Spain).  Is that bad?  I guess the biggest reason for me staying put is that plane tickets are expensive.  But that shouldn't be a deterrent if it was really important for me to get back home for a family affair.  Does that mean that I don't value my family enough?  Who's to determine how much is enough?  For the record, all my dear relatives who are reading this, I love you all with all I am, and I hope you know this.  But what does it mean if I say that, yet act differently?

I'll leave it as a rhetorical question, put out there as a thought provoker.  And on a happier note, I've been thinking a lot about what it is that makes traveling with someone, even a person you just met, such a special and trusting thing.  Let's think about the way I traveled around Perú, for example.  I met two guys in a bar, they invited me to go camping with them, and I didn't have a second thought.  This is totally not something I would do with two characters from a bar in Colorado.  I could flatter myself and say that I'm just an excellent judge of character and knew I didn't have anything to worry about, but that would be an exaggeration.  True, I didn't feel there was any cause to worry, but why was I so quick to trust?  And not just me, but them as well?  And all the travelers everywhere who have spontaneously decided to merge their paths and walk together for a while?  It's because there is some kind of unspoken camaraderie and trust amongst travelers.  I'm still working out exactly what this consists of, or how to explain it, but I think I'm making progress.  The most basic explanation I can proffer is that since we're all out of our routine and our comfort zone, to varying degrees, we're apt to drop all the precautions and prejudices we otherwise would've been instructed by, and we forge relationships with everybody we meet.  These bonds are crazy fast, but also remarkably strong.  Why?  I don't rightly know.

Stay tuned...and tell them that you love them.  I love you!