Rocking that *International* Paradise

**This post is proudly written by my sister, Liz, who is currently staying with me in Puerto Rico and will be here for two weeks.** It is with excitement that I accept my position as a guest blogger to narrate my trip with Sue to the island of Vieques. So here is the weekend in a nutshell…but a big nut shell, like the kind coconuts come in. AND keep in mind that like any good story, all the excitement is at the end, but you need the whole story to get there. Not to brag or anything, but it’s going to be Da Vinci Code good. By some gift of the travel gods, I woke up well rested and ready for the trip this Saturday. The bright Puerto Rican sunshine certainly didn’t hurt. The morning drive to Fajardo was beautiful, at least by my standards. Perhaps it’s an ordinary transit here, but the brightly painted cities, droopy foliage and coastal roads were a treat for me.                 After a breakfast sandwich and bumpy ferry ride, we arrived at Vieques and the group split. T

They say sometimes the journey is as much fun as the destination.  Or something like that.  Well, that proved true for us on Thursday seeing as…we didn’t actually make it to our destination (but we still had a fantastic day!)  Since we had a day off of school, Rachel, Heisha, and I decided to go and find Las Tinajas in the rainforest—a section of a river where there is a natural waterslide, a rock to jump from, and a rope hung over the swimming area.  So, following our directions, we took the correct exit from Hwy 53.  We turned right on Hwy 975, like the directions said.  We continued, looking for Hwy 971 where we were supposed to turn again.  We were starting to think we’d been on the road too long, when we rounded a bend and saw…Hwy 53.  The road had looped around and brought us to the previous exit.  So, we turned around, and headed back the way we’d come, keeping our eyes peeled for 971.  We still didn’t see it.  But what we did see was a police car stopped along the road, a

I have officially survived both my first “year” in Puerto Rico, and my first year of teaching.  In the yearbook, the students voted me the teacher with the “most creative classroom activities.”  As someone who used to fear I didn’t have enough creativity to be an engaging teacher, I’m really really excited about this!  So here are a few of the things I’ve learned about myself and about teaching during the school year: -My classroom management mantra is “CONSTANT VIGILENCE!”   I’ve learned that classroom management is less about a secret trick to instilling fear and respect in students, and more about diligence, consistency, and a will to follow through.  Students are much more likely to stop talking if I’m standing next to them quietly saying, “Be quiet, please,” than if I’m sitting at my desk and yelling across the room, “Billy!  Be quiet!!”  I can’t expect them to have the energy to obey me if I don’t even have the energy to circulate the room. -Everyone (me included)

1. A lobster-red sunburn on my neck and shoulders 2. The impressive bruises under my left arm 3. Not a photo taken 4. Utter exhaustion by 7pm  Yesterday we went out on Delgado’s boat again.  We started at a place that I think was called Tres Palmas.  We were the only ones there, and the water was really shallow.  We could hear and see the waves breaking from the ocean not too far away.  Eddy found a conch—a living one, that crawled out of its shell for us to see how truly weird the creature was.  He also found a living sea anemone that we explored like star-struck children.  Eddy's conch (photo taken by (and stolen from)) Danielle Bergeron After a few hours of relaxation, Delgado asked us, “So, do you want to go island hopping?”  With a hearty yes, we responded.  We drove to the harbor in Salinas, and without stopping, went from there to Cayo Matias to time the trip (20 minutes).  We spent a few more hours at Cayo, puttering around in the chest deep water

I survived the last “real” day of classes by relaxing.  Had I not, I would have lost my patience, my temper, and probably my mind by lunch time.  As predicted, the kids were off the walls.  They did not want to review for finals (which are next week), as planned.  They wanted free time, or to make sentimental speeches about how much they’ll miss each other over the summer (or forever, as some of them are moving), or to take pictures, or to spend time signing pieces of notebook paper (as the yearbooks won’t be delivered until tomorrow).  So I took a deep breath, took heart in the fact that there was no one in the school taking a test, so my students’ noise wasn’t disturbing anyone in another class TOO much, and I let them sing, and talk to their friends, and get up out of their seats, only reminding them once every two or three minutes to get to work and review.  The truly amazing thing, though, happened the same way at the end of each class.  Each period, we spent the 2 nd h

Today, I finally found out first-hand what Game Day at my school entails.  I’d heard bits and pieces.  I knew what to expect.  It was a field day.  The students came for a half day only, with no classes.  They were all divided up into teams, and each team was a different color.  Students came wearing their team color.  I knew there would be wacky games; my principal told us to come dressed comfortably—jeans, shorts, whatever—because there would be water and flying food.  Family reunion games.  And that’s just what it was.  The students filled the bleachers, seated by color (which made for a pretty cool image).  For each game, our principal would announce the name, and then say how many team members were needed from each team (usually 10-12).  The games ranged from wheel barrow relays and piggy-back relays, to tug of war and a dance competition.  1/2 of the students, seated by color. Shoe rally.  All the shoes in one big pile.  Find your shoes and run back to your teamma

When you’re going to a place called Guilligan Island, you hope that your trip there will be uneventful and that everything goes as planned.  (We wouldn’t want any bad weather or other circumstances transforming a 3 hour tour into a trip that lasts much longer).  However, our trip to the little island off the coast of Guanica, Puerto Rico wasn’t without its inconveniences on Saturday morning. First of all, I got pulled over for speeding.  74 in a 65—not even 10 over!  On the up side, I finally found out how people know they’re getting pulled over.  I’ve always wondered this, because most police vehicles just drive around with their lights on always.  They’re not pulling someone over or going somewhere in a hurry…the lights are just flashing.  I found out the “pull over” signal of Puerto Rico on Saturday.  The cop pulled over ahead of me, then stood in the middle of the right lane gesturing forcefully at me in a way that clearly said: “You!  Go there!  Now!  You!  There!  I