I have just finished my second day at school and I’m exhausted. Nevertheless, despite the challenging combination of late nights, early mornings and long days, I’m really beginning to settle into the routine of things here already.
On my first day at the school I woke up at 6.20 and had a rushed breakfast, practically downing my coffee in one to get out the door for 7.05. We would usually leave a bit later, apparently, but the lift is still broken, meaning we have to allow time to descend the ten storeys to get out the building.
At 7.10 our transport was already standing outside ready - a rickety old privately-run school minibus called a movilidad, which parents pay for to pick up their kids and take them to school every morning. It’s similar to the coach service we had at the Girls’ High, only a lot less Health & Safety conscious, a lot tinier and a lot more likely to break down at any given moment. I was at least twice the size of most of the other passengers, and it felt a bit like those scenes in Elf when, since he is actually human, he is monstrously out of proportion with the rest of the elves. When I first got on the bus, I was put into a little corner where my knees were practically in my face, before Nicole gently pointed out to the conductor that I didn’t really fit.
Fifteen minutes later, after collecting two more tiny students, we arrived at school. I clambered out of the minibus (banging my head, of course) and kissed Natsumi and Nicole goodbye, before finding Ursula, the Director of English, talking to a group of girls outside the main building. She gave me a warm welcome and showed me into her office, which was in a small section of a little room comprising lots of little offices, annexed off by temporary plywood dividers with flimsy doors.
The school is an English college for girls called Mater Admirabilis and is located in a converted house very unlike the other buildings in Lima. It’s more reminiscent of an old English country manor house than a school, and is only small considering its capacity of some 600-odd students. This isn’t much, however, when you take into account the fact that the age range is from six to sixteen, meaning that there is a maximum of twenty-five students per class. I get the impression that this is one of the better schools, since they have a strict uniform and all seem well-mannered and well brought-up; despite this, they have no assembly hall and only basic resources such as old-fashioned chalkboards. Unlike a lot of schools in Peru, it’s not officially a Catholic school; however, it’s definitely fairly biased. For instance, they only learn about Catholicism in Religion and some classes even have to say Grace before taking their snacks at break.
After a brief introduction from Ursula, and after meeting another VolunTeach volunteer, Eleanor, who will be teaching at the school at the same time as me, it was time for formación or, as we know it, assembly, in the school courtyard. Since it was the first day of the new term, there was a long assembly featuring a march and salute by seven of the eldest students (including Natsumi), who wore the Peruvian national colours on a broach, and carried the Peruvian flag. This was followed by a brief introductory speech by one of the teachers; the national anthem (sung without accompaniment); a sermon; the Lord’s Prayer; Hail Mary and a hymn (also without accompaniment). Eventually it was time for us to be introduced to the school, so we each gave a short speech each using the microphone, before the assembly was brought to a close by the exit of the girls with the flag.
By this time I was freezing and was grateful to get back to Ursula’s office, although it wasn’t much better there either. Then, to help us decide where we would most like to teach, Eleanor and I accompanied Ursula to an upper school English class, before helping in a third grade class with another teacher. The classrooms were absolutely freezing; all the windows are open, too, as though the Peruvians are not bothered by this in the slightest.
After fourth period we met up with Ursula again to organise our timetables. We both decided that we’d like a mixture of ages, which Ursula was happy to accommodate. She was also keen to get us involved in other areas of study at the school, from which we ourselves could learn; I signed up to Humanities (which is just one subject here, encompassing History and Geography) and French, just to give it a try.
At 1pm Shadia arrived to check everything was ok and confirm our timetables. I hadn’t had any problem getting the leave off school that I had wanted, and would finish at the end of August to go travelling on 2nd September. To make up the time lost, I’d offered to stay until 3.30pm every day instead of 1, which I was more than happy to do since they’d been so accommodating to me.
After that it was time for lunch (which we volunteers get for free), before heading to my next class, which was meant to be Humanities. Unfortunately something had gone wrong with my timetable and I was left without anything to do, so I went outside and sat with the teachers who were still having their lunch. I got chatting to the school psychologist, who isn’t much older than me and, although she was born here, had moved to Spain when she was a child and had only just returned.
This is quite common here, I think; people emigrated due to the terrorism in the late 20th century and are now returning to make the most of the growing economy. A similar thing happened to Omar and Pily, who both moved to Japan with their families before they were married and moved back after the terrorism ended.
Anyway, I chatted to the psychologist for a while, who was really nice and suggested getting together for drinks or to do some sight-seeing. Afterwards I managed to sneak into a humanities class for half an hour until the final bell at 3.35. Natsumi took so long coming out I began to think I’d got the arrangements wrong, but at last I spotted her coming down the steps from the main house, beaming at me and full of apologies.
To get back the the flat, we had to walk to the next street and wait on the next corner for the bus. Ten minutes later, frozen through from standing still, the tiny bus came careering round the corner, packed so full of people that they were bursting out the doors. It was even more chaotic than the маршрутка buses in Russia, and I spent the entire journey (less than ten minutes long, due to the manic speed of the driver) thinking I was going to fall over spectacularly onto some poor unsuspecting passenger’s lap.
When I got back, I decided to take a shower to give my hair time to dry before bed (since I can’t blow-dry it now I have no straighteners to tame it). Unfortunately, we don’t have enough gas left to heat the water and the lift is still broken, so that we can’t even order any more. So, my only choice that night was to bathe like a Victorian, by boiling water and putting it in a tub. I then stood in said tub (which was about the size of one of those travel suitcases) and used another pan to pour the water over myself. The strangest thing is, that was the warmest shower I’d had since I arrived.
I spent the rest of the evening going through my plans for the rest of my time in Peru, which are much more complicated than you might think. Omar was amazing and spent ages helping me out with research and even making phone calls to get reservations for me at the best price. By the end of it, I had booked my trip to Ica for this weekend, my flights to and from Cusco from 2nd to 10th September and my hostel for Cusco. However, I still wasn’t any closer to booking any tours, since I had pages of information but no idea what to choose.
Today, I started off the day with a bang (literally) when I dropped my GHDs from the top shelf onto the hard tile floor. Luckily they didn’t shatter into a million pieces, but one of the plates has stopped working which is almost as devastating. When I got to school, I immediately emailed my poor mother, whose first news from me in days mostly consisted of me lamenting my dying hair straighteners.
My first class of the day today was with the third grade, who were adorable. They were learning about how to say directions, but mostly just wanted to ask me hundreds of questions and find out every possible detail about my life, my family and my likes and dislikes. I even got invited to a party for El día de niño (Children’s Day, which I think we should definitely consider introducing into the UK).
After the first break, when I was ambushed by little girls on all sides and force-fed their snacks, it was time for my first French lesson. I met the teacher outside the class, who started talking French to me before ascertaining that I didn’t actually speak it. It turned out, he didn’t speak Spanish very well or even English, which is going to be a challenge. Nevertheless, he said I was welcome in the class and I was keen to give it a go.
The rest of the girls in the class, who happen to be Natsumi’s group, were more than welcoming and helped me out by lending me all the things I needed (I didn’t even have a pen). Surprisingly, it wasn’t nearly as hard to pick up as I’d expected, and I found that I could understand almost everything from what I’d learnt from Spanish and what I remembered from Year 9. The problem was speaking it and writing it myself, especially since everyone else seemed to have at least a basic knowledge of the language. Thankfully, a large part of the lesson was spent on grammar - nominal declinations, to be precise, whose rules were simple to pick up. Everyone cheered me on when I went to write one of my answers on the board.
After the next break, I went to help out in first grade - and if I’d thought third grade was cute, these were something else. They were tiny, and absolutely amazed by me. Their questions were endless; I felt bad for the teacher, who was trying to get their attention, because all lesson, all they wanted to do was ask me questions and give me hugs. Apparently, I somehow look like Barbie, Shakira and Lucy from Despicable Me all at the same time, which I consider quite a feat. One girl was so convinced I looked like Shakira that she got quite cross when I wouldn’t break into song mid-lesson. One told me I was like someone in a film, another told me I was more beautiful than all the stars in the sky, and another kept telling me she loved me. I could get used to this.
1pm came around all too quickly, and soon I could see Shadia hovering by the door to come and collect me. When I tried to leave, all the girls started following me, hugging me and begging me not to go. I assured them I’d be back the next day, but I’m not sure they understood and I’m only allowed to talk to them in Spanish.
The reason I finished early was because I was going with Shadia, Eleanor, Amy and the Peruvian guy who sometimes helps out, whose name I can’t remember, to Pamplona to teach some more English. Pamplona is a shanty town in a new district called San Juan de Miraflores, on the outskirts of Lima. When the shanty town was first built into the hills bordering the city, people constructed their houses using reed mats and any other materials they could find, living without running water, heating or electricity. Now, many have reinforced their houses with plywood or brick, but living conditions are still extremely poor and many children don’t even have the opportunity to go to school.
It’s for this reason that we are volunteering there, to give some of these children the opportunity to learn something, and to offer them something fun and something to aim for. We have to give the classes at the police station, as this is the only place that’s safe for us. To get up the hill to the station, we had to take two little tuc-tuc taxis, since Shadia’s car couldn’t get over the speed bumps properly with all of us in it.
Today, we had two different age groups, about twenty students in total (less than the usual amount, since it was the first week of term) and we were teaching them about Britain. We started by singing London Bridge and teaching it to them, then showed them the pictures and souvenirs we’d brought from the UK, explaining to them about London and our royalty (which they were fascinated by, especially the girls). We then gave them each a blank copy of a map of the British Isles, which they had to colour in, separating the countries. Finally, we had a competition to see who could make the best Union Jack. We finished each class by giving out a prize to the winner and then taking a group photo, before giving them each a sandwich and a drink and saying our goodbyes.
Most of the students seemed really interested and engaged with what we were teaching them, and were keen to participate and learn, even though they spoke very little English. There was one girl who seemed disinterested throughout and refused to do any of the activities, but on the other hand there were students who were really excited about all the tasks. One little girl, who had skin so dry from the cold that she had scabs all over her hands and arms, was amazed by everything and smiled all the way through.
Shadia dropped us all back after we’d finished, and we agreed to discuss my tours more tomorrow. After a pleasant family dinner and chat, I’m now ready for bed after a very tiring but incredibly rewarding day.
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