I seem to remember a few posts ago Justin saying something like, “The thing I like about Honduras is you never really know what you’re saying yes too,” or something like that. I agree that you never really know what you’re saying yes too. The problem is that it’s not always a good thing.
I think the problem with me moving here by myself is I’m starting to lose my sense of what’s normal and what’s not. If I had a lempira for every time I did something they told me in teacher education class never to do, I might actually be making enough money to make a living down here. So let me explain. A few of my students were talking to me after basketball practice Friday and invited me to go to church with them on Saturday night. I was like, “Sure, why not?” I mean, I guess even that wouldn’t be normal in the States, would it? But anyway I said I would go (things are different here, remember?) and so they picked me up to go to church on Saturday. So that’s all I agreed to, right? Church. Or so I thought.
Then during the church service they whisper to me that afterwards they are going to an eighth grader’s going away party (she’s moving to Tegus on Monday). And I’m like, “well, okay,” but after I say that I’m starting to think…hmm, this could be weird if it’s a party with just my students. But then I’m like, “Oh no, it’s a going away party, I bet there’ll be all sorts of relatives and stuff there.” But after the church service (ps – found out that basically half of my school goes to this church) I’m beginning to get a bad feeling about this…I can’t decide if it’s more messed up that I actually went to a house party with my students or that I had nothing better to do on a Saturday night then go to a house party with my students. Anyway, we pull up to this mansion—literally, nicest house I’ve seen here—where there is this patio outside with all these palm trees and a big yard, trampoline, huge flatscreen etc. Looks like it’s from a movie. Anyway, not really the point. So there are literally all of my eighth and ninth grade students there. Of course they freak out that I’m there and immediately start trying to drag me on the dance floor. Yes, this actually happened. The music is blaring, there is a disco light thing, and the patio is essentially a dance floor. Now, for a minute I’m thinking this place is pretty sweet, and then I come to my senses and realize that I’m surrounded by my students. Basically I felt like I was like chaperoning a high school dance—except for it wasn’t at a school and there were no other chaperones, so there were no rules. So please just imagine for a minute how my students were dancing. It was soooo messed up. I basically sat by the chip bowl and stuffed my face in an effort to give myself something to do. The good news is I haven’t completely lost my grip on reality so I refused to dance (my students couldn’t seem to figure out why). Anyway, I could give you more painful details but let’s just suffice it to say that it was most awkward night of my life and it taught me a very important lesson: I need to be careful what I say yes to.
Then Sunday rolls around and I go to a birthday party all afternoon with my family. Turns out it’s for one of my student’s moms, which means that basically the other half of my students that I didn’t see Saturday night at church I saw on Sunday (everyone is related in this town).
So, don’t get me wrong here, my students are great. (Hmm…did I just say great? That actually might be a bit strong considering today I gave out demerits to 8 different kids – a new record for me – and had to physically break up a fist fight between two ninth graders…but that’s another story.) Anyway, spending the whole weekend with my students? Let’s just say that a trip to Tegus over Thanksgiving break (a week from today!) cannot come soon enough.
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