Yesterday I substitute-taught a children´s english class. My boss asked me to do a favor and fill in. I´m spoiled at my other job, I only have one child at a time. More than that sounded scary, but I´m not really in a position to turn down work. So I arrived at 8:30 Saturday morning after maybe two hours of sleep to find find my curriculum supremely unhelpful, requiring props, preparation and a lot of interpretation. I tried not to fall asleep waiting for my kids. At 9:00 parents started arriving with their children. The children couldn´t really speak english, and their parents even less so. I spoke with the parents a little but I couldn´t concentrate because of all the kids arriving. I could tell they were kind of freaked out leaving their children with someone who spoke so little spanish, but it´s a 3 hour break from their child, and there´s a mall and theatre right across the street. So they left anyway. After about five minutes, I realized what this job was going to be. Here are some numbers: 10 (quantity of children), 5 (age of the children) 3 (hours I have them), 1 (teacher), 0 (kids that understand english). I have no clue how the class is supposed to be run. They´re all screaming and dumping out the contents of their backpacks on the table. One kid runs out of the room to go to the bathroom and I freak out- how can I take him to the bathroom when I have a million other kids? Agghhh . . . then I realize there are sort of "hall monitors" outside to help with them. But only two, for like 100 kids. So it´s very possible that a kid could run out and they would both be occupied with other kids. So I realize in five minutes that this is basically a babysitting job, but one where I can´t really communicate with the kids. Some of them kind of understand english, but they´re not used to being spoken to in english. I´m supposed to be teaching them english, so I´m trying to figure out how much I should speak to them in english anyway. Also, I don´t know how to give commands, which is different than just saying something. Except for siéntate! Sit down. So I shouted that a lot. Siéntate! Siéntate muy bien. No tocas! When I wanted them to stop touching each other. At the end of the class this little girl asked me in spanish what "no tocas" means. I was supposed to say no toques. Close enough right? But no. Actually, a lot of the kids understood some english. But if they´re all fighting I had to yell at them in spanish. Parts of the class were great. I taught them stuff, we had little segments of learning. But 3 hours? Come on. Once I realized they liked singing, we did that. We sang the eensy weensy spider like 100 times. They loved it. We sang everything I could think of, including jingle bells and happy birthday. Then I made them one by one stand on a chair in the front of the room so we could practice colors. (What color is his sweater?) Halfway through the class, the hall monitor came in to tell me it was break time. I was like "I´m supposed to supervise 10 kids who don´t listen out of the classroom to the cafeteria?!" I tried to get them to line up, but they´re used to just running out like crazy people. Their parents brought them snacks, which they grabbed and then ran to the tables. The hall monitor people helped the kids open their snacks, so that was nice. After that, I had them play games outside, where they ran around and screamed and the oldest kid there got so wound up that he grabbed this other kid´s head and bit him on the forehead. There was no blood fortunately. I was counting down the minutes til the class was over. It was almost so bad it was good, though. The situation was totally ridiculous.
I´m kind of sick today. My throat hurts and I feel sort of fevery. I just watched Garden State while playing scrabble online and writing this, and I hated it way less than the first time I saw it. I even kind of liked it. I´m softening up in my old age.

I didn´t realize how accustomed I had grown to using my roommate´s laptop. I have it during the day when she´s at work, she has it when she´s home at night. But these past few weeks she´s been taking it to work with her. Who does she think she is? But today I have it. And Jorge reminded me that my last blog was bitter and negative. Which doesn´t even sound like me. But I am happier with the world today so I will write something. Jorge and I are back together, but casually. Not casual because we´re seeing other people or anything, but because I´m leaving in two months and even if I was staying it probably wouldn´t work out long term. I told him he has to be on the look-out for a girlfriend to replace me in December, and he said that I occupied such a big space in his heart that he´d have to find two girlfriends to replace me. Sweet, right? Maybe you had to be there.

I´ve been teaching this english conversation class on tuesday and thursday nights. I don´t really love teaching english, but this class is really cool. I don´t need to teach grammar, or push them through boring textbooks. I can do whatever I want. Last night we played scrabble. I might have had more fun than they did, but that´s what I get paid for. It´s actually really fun. They speak english extremely well- they´ve graduated from all the classes at euroidiomas (the institute) and this is just practice for them. There´s so much material on-line to teach classes like this that I usually don´t even prepare, just print out lessons that come with interesting, recent articles and practice exercises. There´s only 5 people in the class and sometimes only 4. I give them exercises where they have to work in pairs, so if only 4 people come then I don´t have to participate. But I also really enjoy talking to them. Two people are I think early thirties, professionals, really nice, smart, good-looking. A girl and a guy, I think they should get together. And a 21 yr old guy and a 13 yr old girl. But they are pretty mature and we have interesting discussions. And there´s one other young professional guy. It should be a class where I tell them about the US, but more often the conversation turns to Peru and I´m learning a lot from them. I think they´re learning things from each other as well, because of the big age gap- for instance, the 13 yr old tells them what school is like now, and they tell her what to expect from university and adult life. We had one discussion about the prevalence of nicknames here, like chino for someone who looks chinese, or gordito for someone who is fat or something. The 13 yr old said the nicknames are so common that even teachers use them to refer to their students, which surprised the adults in the class. I would be so thrilled to be able to speak spanish as well as they speak english. If I could speak spanish that well, I sure wouldn´t be taking a class.
I am still planning on traveling, but I think on the weekends. I have three day weekends so that is enough time to go to most places in Peru.
A few people have asked me to give them english classes, which would be cool. It´s still chilly here. I made maracuya juice, which is the best juice ever. It kind of reminds me of the fruit we had in our back yard in grenada, but the fruit is bigger. It´s so easy to make, I don´t know why I didn´t make it before. Inside are these seeds and pulp and you just put it in the blender, add water and sugar. I also bought fig jam yesterday and finished it today. So good.
I´ve been reading Tolstoy´s short stories, The death of Ivan Ilvych and three others. I haven´t read Anna Karenina in maybe five years, and I don´t remember it that well. But I think I prefer these stories. They´re all pretty depressing, as you must expect when reading a russian author. Even the "positive" story, Master and Man, ends with the main character´s death. Even translated, though, the way he expresses the human experience is so apt, his characters so bizarre and yet recognizable.
On a completely different note, I saw The Hangover, which for some reason they decided to translate for spanish distribution as ¿Qué Pasó Ayer? (What happened yesterday?) I didn´t appreciate some of it, for example the conventional premise that people (especially men) should celebrate finding a life partner by having sex with or at least seeing other naked women before they get married (hence, going to vegas). But that was an extremely small part of the movie, only hinted at through a photo reel at the end of the film. And there was an antagonist introduced halfway through the film that was not funny at all. He was the the way I feared the entire movie would be, a cardboard character comprised of cheap laughs and juvenile sensibility. But the movie as a whole was actually really funny, with compelling characters and plot.

Another thing about peruvian guys. All this stuff, meanwhile, has always been the case but I´m just now getting sick of it. I have a German friend who married a peruvian and lives here now and she talks about the six-month honeymoon with a new country. I can´t remember if I already talked about that. But I´m approaching the end of my honeymoon with this country, I think. The stupid, not hot, low water-pressure showers, the ridiculously crowded buses, and not being able to wear a skirt without some idiot whistling at you or saying something to you or grabbing you. Ok, the last thing only happened once. Except, I forgot to write about last night. I was visiting my German friend Jessica (not the american one) and she lives in a kind of bad area. There´s a nice bus I can get two blocks from her house, but it was after ten pm and I ran to catch my bus but saw it pulling away. Buses here gradually stop running after 10:30 or 11, sometimes earlier maybe, I can´t really tell. But I feel insecure if I´m waiting too late. So I walked down to the main street but I wasn´t sure what bus I had to take. I have to take two buses to get to her house anyway. So I´m looking at buses and it´s kind of a dark area and I´m thinking I should just get on any bus and figure out later where it goes. Then this bus stops for me, and I go to ask the cobrador (the door guy and money collector) where they go, but the bus is in the second lane over from me so I have to walk into the street and in between my bus and another bus. I´m talking to the guy when this other guy comes up behind me. There´s really no room for him to get by, so I kind of move in closer to my bus and I´m just looking at the guy like what´s he doing. And he´s kind of touching me but I think he´s trying to get by. Then he starts touching my butt and I´m like what the heck! But it´s not really violent or sexy or anything and I realize he´s trying to rob me. Meanwhile the cobrador is just sitting there, totally blase. I can´t even remember what I did. I was kind of in shock because I didn´t realize what was happening until it was over, in like one minute. I think I yelled at him and pushed him away and he then he walked away. And the cobrador was like you want to get on? And I was just like you jackass. I went back to the side of the road to wait for another bus. The guy who tried to rob me walked around a little and then wandered away. I realized I should just get on a bus, so I got on some bus headed in the right direction. This guy on the bus hears me asking for directions and gets off with me at my stop, which I guess is where I said I wanted to get off. And I´m thinking why I am getting off the bus with this guy I must be a total moron. But it´s a busy, well-lit corner so it seems ok. Then he walks over with me to this other corner and I realized he doesn´t really know what bus to take either. So I just tell him I´m fine and he leaves. I wasn´t very nice, he probably thinks I´m an ungrateful tourist. Then I find a bus to take me to where I have to take my other bus. Ha ha. 3 buses, kind of stressful. But I like being at Jessica´s. My house is so empty and hers is so fuol. She has two kids and she´s younger than me! A 2 year old terror who whines nonstop and a one year old girl who is the best baby ever. She´s so smilely and sweet and comes over and hugs me and cuddles with me. I told Jessica it´s the physical contact I need since breaking up with my boyfriend, and she laughed. The first time we hung out we spoke spanish but now we just speak english. She´s one of my only english-speaking friends now. But she speaks german to her son, and spanish to everyone else in the house and then english with me so sometimes she goes crazy with switching languages.
I don´t know. Peru is so different. It´s frustrating. People are so different, they have such different expectations of you. When I first got here I thought why would you want to make an effort to be friends with other foreigners? Isn´t that why you´re here, to meet peruvians? There´s this american-canadian society which has events and stuff. And I thought it was so weird, looking for friends soley on the basis of shared nationality? But now I get it. You need connections with people from other countries so that you don´t feel insane. Everyone around you thinks something except for you. Well that makes you insane, or an idiot, right? But if you´re friends with outsiders, you realize that it´s not you. Almost without exception, everyone I´ve met here has been extremely good to me. Warmer than in most parts of the US, I think. But for all that, they can be extremely narrow-minded. Even the sweetest of them. It´s such a small country and it´s pretty insular. And traveling out of south america is too expensive for many people, and visas are prohibitively difficult to obtain. So it´s not that surprising I guess.
I just had to look up the spelling of "surprise". Even though my spanish leaves much to be desired, it´s still contributing to the demise of my english. I only have one friend who´s a native english speaker, which I realize makes a huge difference. I don´t hear language that expands my vocabulary, and using difficult vocabulary with non-native speakers doesn´t make sense. So use small words with me when I get back, por favor?

Guys here aren´t worse then guys in the US, they´re just far more aggressive. Jessica and I went to this club the other night because she met this guy who said he could get us in for free. A lot of discos here are like $30 just to get in, which is comprable to paying like $100 in the US. I would never do that. You´re not paying to see a band or get a drink or anything, literally just to walk in the door. It´s mostly to weed out poor people, I think. There are tons of people who get on "the list" and don´t have to pay, maybe half the people there don´t pay. If you have a big group of people, for a birthday party or something, they can get on the list and get in for free. Anyway, so we got on the frickin list at this club in a really rich, touristy place that is basically a mall. The whole mall is kind of open-air and has at least two, I think three, discotecs, a movie theatre, karaoke, tons of restaurants. It overlooks the ocean, it´s really gorgeous. Nobody here even goes out until like midnight, because places stay open until like 6am. Jessica and I aren´t night people, so we went before they were even open. It was hilarious, we were so uncool. We were trying to open the doors and this guy walked by and was like ok they open in ten minutes. So we sat around waiting. They we finally went in, we were on the list, very exciting. We were so early, it took a while for people to start showing up. Everywhere to sit was reserved for big groups. We asked about this one section and they have a guard there keeping people out. We asked him about this other section and he said "I don´t know. Ask them." That was literally his job, to stand guard over this one little section all night. There were two tables not reserved so we sat there. Eventually we went upstairs to find another bar and more couches. We sat down near a group and wound up kind of crashing a birthday party.
Let me say that is was the first time I´ve ever gone "out" without a boy and without a Peruvian. Who was usually the same person, Jorge. So this is just two american girls going out and I don´t know why but every boy wants to talk to you.
So Jessica and I are just doing our thing, which is kind of me yawning and her telling me to wake up, but all the music they´re playing is so bad we can´t dance. Then this guy starts talking to us, he knows english really well. It´s his birthday and they´re buying bottles of scotch. He gives us drinks and introduces us to his friends, they´re all cool. They we go downstairs and start dancing. People here dance so sexy, but it´s just normal. Even friends dance like that. So I just try to leave as much space as possible when I dance with people. So I´m dancing with this guy, and it´s fun. And I´m not an idiot. I´m american, and he bought me drinks, he´s probably interested. But also, I am american. So that´s how I think. If this happened in the US, I wouldn´t feel like I was leading anyone on. It would just be what it is, meeting people, having fun. And then I danced with Jessica. At one point I felt like that part on Romy and Michelle´s Highschool Reunion where the dance floor opens up and they do this ridiculous routine. The floor was wall-to-wall with people but at one point opened up and we had this huge space to ourselves and were just going crazy with our bad dancing. I know people were looking at us, but I´m pretty sure they were just jealous. We hung out with that group of people most of the night. Then the birthday boy (we both forgot his name, or I never knew it . . . ) tells me he wants to call me the next day. I say sure, but just as friends I don´t want a boyfriend. He acted like I hurt his feelings so badly. We went back to the group, then he took their alchol and left. I thought they were coming back. After awhile (at this point we´re in one of the super cool "reserved" sections) there are people around again. We hang out, then someone asks us who we´re with. We can´t remember his name, then Jessica says "I think this is a different group of people." HAHA. But they´re like no! Stay and party with us! So we hang out with them and dance a little, but all the boys are way too aggressive. So we leave, but it has been a successful venture for Jessica´s last night out before she goes back to the US tomorrow. Outside, 5 cab drivers try to rip us off before we get our good price and go home. Ok, maybe boys are worse here. Or the ones who go to clubs and initiate conversation with american girls.

Peru is a society with such a strong class system. A caste system, even. After almost six months, it still has the capacity to shock me. My (middle-class) friends will make reference to ¨lower- class people.¨ It´s discussed as a matter of fact that there are classes, ¨A¨ people, ¨B¨ people, C people. I don´t know how many classes there are. The first person I heard talk about ¨A¨ people was this girl studying advertising, and how that class of people was who she was targeting for this ad project she was working on. I was pretty shocked but hoped it was just advertising lingo. But since then I´ve heard other people talk about the A and B classes.
People take it for granted to such a degree, both upper and lower classes. I know there are rich and poor in the US, and maybe people here are just more honest. But it´s such a different mindset. To the rich and middle-class, and even to the lower classes, their economic status is their identity. They aren´t just people who are poor right now. Their parents were poor, they are poor, they will probably always be poor. I don´t know how they would get out of their poverty. The kind of jobs they get are service jobs, providing services like cooking, cleaning, watching children and for the men, things like landscape work with the worst equipment. Like cutting a lawn with small rusty shears and then hauling away the debris on a bicycle.
Poor people here often work 10 or 12 hours days, six days a week of insanely tedious and-or backbreaking labor for a shockingly low salary. Maids often live with the family they work for. I don´t know how they could afford housing otherwise. It has to make middle-class people feel better to think of the "lower classes" as different kind of people. It´s routine to see children begging or selling candy on buses, on the side of the road. The government either doesn´t have the resources to take them off the street, or else chooses to spend it on things like planting flower beds in middle-class neighborhoods.
Despite the growing size of the middle class, Peru is still a poor country. I don´t think they should be judged by first-world standards. But it´s frustrating to see a class system so blindly accepted, further perpetrating the poverty of the lower classes. I don´t know how it can ever change.