Arrivederci Italia!

My last week in Italy was spent in another suburb of Milan (near Lodi). It was a large camp with six other tutors. I had a class of 7 eight year-olds... the second youngest class I've had. Luckily, my camp director was incredible and such a nice change from the previous one! The tutors really worked well together and I feel like we got especially close and formed a great team. Although I loved the camp, I had a few problem children (*sigh*). I learned first-hand how difficult it is to effectively discipline a child who doesn't care.

I had a boy named Luca who was horribly malicious and had no respect for anyone. After one of his many trouble-makings, I yelled at him in front of the class, jerked him out to the hallway and gave him a very stern talking-to. But I could tell from his face that it didn't mean anything to him. i sent him to talk to the camp director, but nothing helped. He just didn't care that others were upset with him... it didn't bother him in the least. Due to the relatively non-severe consequences that a summer camp can have, he was just impossible to teach. I appreciated the experience in a way, though, because it opened my eyes to one of the many challenges of being an educator. It was so frustrating to try to teach someone who was completely uninterested in learning, and wanting a child to behave who had no sense of guilt or respect. If nothing else, it gave me the opportunity to try to apply what I've learned in my psychology courses and think about how to best handle a situation like that in the future.

On the other side of the spectrum, I had a boy named Luigi. Luigi was extremely kind and caring and wanted nothing more than to please the tutors. Unfortunately, he was one of the least intelligent students I had the entire summer. A typical conversation with him would go something like this: One day he asked me if he could go to the bathroom in Italian. I replied that he must ask in English (after we've spent all week reviewing 'Can I go to the toilet, please?'). He couldn't do it so i was attempting to just get him to repeat it a few words at a time.

Taylor: 'Say Can I'

Luigi: 'Say Can I'

Taylor: 'No repeat: Can I'

Luigi: 'No repeat: Can I'

Taylor: (Thinking 'Oh for God's sake... I need to get on with class!') 'Vai a bano, ma piu veloce!' (Go to the bathroom, but fast!)

Luigi: 'Grazie Maestro'

Taylor: as he runs out the door: 'In ENGLISH!!!! Say THANK YOU!!!'

The host family that I stayed with was unbelievably kind and so happy that I was there. They constantly talked to me about intellectual things like an adult, and they really showed me how similar people can be despite coming from two completely different places. They had two children, an eleven year-old boy and a five year-old boy. The five year old didn't know any English, but he still loved being around me and trying to teach me Italian (one night he tried to teach me the names of all the different toes... SOOO cute!). And approximately four times a day he would strip down to his socks and pants, slide across the hardwood floor towards me, and sing James Brown's "I feel good". I suppose it helped him feel connected to me to show-off the only English he knew. It was pretty much the funniest thing I've ever seen... I wish I would have filmed it!

I was sad to leave the family (and Italy!), but I was anxious to return home to see my family and friends. The morning I left, the mother cried when she kissed me goodbye and told me that she had trouble sleeping the night before... but that she felt better knowing how happy my real mom must be that I was going home.

The journey home was unbearably long. I took one train and two metros all before 8am. Then it was 10 hours from Milan to Atlanta, 1.5 hours from Atlanta to St. Louis, then a 4 hour drive home. And the whole time, I had my entire cash salary (including a hefty bonus--WOOHOO!!) from the entire summer in an envelope in my pocket. I would have slept with a knife, but I wouldn't have gotten through airport security with one.

Now that I have been home for about five days, my entire experience in Italy seems so distant... almost like a dream... like it didn't actually happen. I guess that's because it was completely separate and disconnected from the rest of my life. Regardless, I can't put into words how much I learned and grew from my experience teaching there. It was amazing in every sense of the word. I realize how fortunate I am to be able to have opportunities like this, and I am so glad that I have taken advantage of them. I have now lived in and seen a beautiful country from several different angles, made countless new friends from across the globe, and have been impacted by the kindness of so many foreign children and their families. I will never forget them.
The Italian people are so warm and hospitable, and they truly care for the well-being of others. I have found that they have a deep appreciation of their own culture, but also of education about other cultures. They are so eager to just live life, love others, and eat vast amounts of delicious food.

Part of the reason I wanted this job was to explore my passion for education. Although I knew from the beginning that I would not want to teach young children for a career, I wanted to know what it felt like to have a classroom and to teach other people. It gave me such a rush and it felt incredible. Maybe I will be some kind of teacher one day. Maybe I won't. But whatever the case may be, at least I now have a tiny bit of insight into what it could be like. And although I don't think I would ever want to work with small children on a permanent basis, I discovered that I really do like children quite a bit more than I used to think.

Well, with all of that said, I think this blog is finished and complete. Thanks to everyone who has followed this blog throughout the summer. I hope it has provided you with a bit of humor, or boredom-relief, or possibly even insight into education and people in Italy. If you are interested in seeing my pictures, they are finally all posted on facebook.

VIVA ITALIA!!!

-Taylor Martin



"To teach, you need a degree; but to educate, you only need to be yourself."

Lurago d'Erba

It's been over a week since my last entry, but it feels as if it were yesterday... the time just flies by! It's starting to hit me that I only have one more week left in Italy. Although I will be sad to leave such a wonderful program in such a beautiful place, I think I will be ready to return home. I am growing anxious to see my family and friends, and I need to prepare for RA training. (FYI: I will be home by the 27th, and I will be moving into WashU on August 5th or 6th.)

This week has certainly not been my favourite week, but I have survived. On one hand, the camp director was the most controlling person I've ever met. This was her first year with ACLE and she didn't understand that it is the tutors' job to organize the camp, determine what activities should be done and when. She would propose something unsuitable or in a time frame that is impossible for 50 kids to do.... We would kindly suggest an alternative and explain why it would be better... She would nod her head and say okay... Then, next thing we know, she's hauling the kids out of our classes to do her original bad idea. It was extremely frustrating! On the other hand, my host family was incredible and I really enjoyed my time with them a lot! I guess regardless of the quality of the camp, I'm still in Italy pursuing a passion... so I shouldn't complain!

I had a class of 13 five to seven year-olds. This was my first time having such a young class... and it was definitely eye-opening. One of my students was born in 2004; (I was in high school in 2004)... I've never felt so old. It was kind of fun to have to act overly excited and constantly animated about everything. On day one I created a 'quiet bunny' mask and whenever I put it on, all the students had to show me their 'quiet bunnies' by putting their hands on their heads like rabbit ears and stop talking. It worked pretty well until Thursday afternoon... I guess they started to realize that it's a lot more fun to talk than to pretend you're a bunny.

I also had two kids that were absolutely rotten: Diego and Maxim. They were like Bonnie and Clyde. They were always feeding off eachothers' antics and running around screaming thier heads off, stealing stuff off my desk (including the 'quiet bunny' mask that I worked so hard on!). I learned from my father how to yell with a tone of voice that could scare pretty much anything... needless to say, it came in quite handy this week.

Because my students were at such a low level, I wrote a very simple show for them. We performed The Frog Prince, with a princess asking all these different animals if they are frogs. They respond that they aren't frogs, they are_____. Then she asks the frog, he says yes and asks her to kiss him. She kisses him, he turns into a prince, and they all sing a short song about kissing the frog. It was cute, but not my finest work. I accidentally made my princess cry yesterday because she didn't have her lines memorized. I leaned down to eye level and spoke to her in broken Italian (as I often had to do with this class because their English vocabulary is so limited), saying "Desiree, I gave you the paper on Tuesday and there are only four words! Why aren't they in your memory!?" I guess I'm a little harsh during the show rehearsals because I want it to be good, but I'm learning.

As far as my home stay, it has been really great. I have my own apartment within the house where the grandparents lived before they passed away, so I have plenty of privacy and a huge bed. The father makes belts at a factory and speaks no English. And the mother stays home to tend to the house and their twelve year-old daughter. I'm not really sure how they can afford to live in a house this big, but I've noticed that low-paying 'less-respected' jobs in America are perfectly normal and well-paying jobs in Italy (including waiters, pizza chefs, taxi drivers). The mother knows a fair amount of English but she discovered that I knew some Italian, so she's started speaking to me in Italian instead. Although I appreciate being able to practice a foreign language, I think they assume that I know more than I do. I just pick out words that I know in the sentences and try to piece together what they're saying to me. Sometimes I can... sometimes I can't.

They took me to Lake Como last night, which was beautiful. The lake is at the bottom of these tall green mountains, which have fancy villas scattered along the sides. Apparently George Clooney has a villa there. The water was so clear despite it being such a crowded tourist destination.

I only had one awkward moment with this family, but it was horribly embarrassing for me. On television and in movies, they always show that the most horrible thing that can happen to a visitor while staying at a host's house is to have a problem with the toilet... well, that poor guy you've laughed at on TV is now me. On Tuesday night, we went out for gelato and returned home pretty late. I said goodnight and went downstairs. They said goodnight and that they were going straight to bed. I still needed to make my lesson plan for the next day, so I stayed up for a while longer. After finishing, I needed to go pee before I went to bed. So I go pee... so far, so good. Then I push the little button that makes the toilet flush... still good. Then while washing my hands, I realize that the toilet has been flushing for longer than normal. I look over and the button is still pushed inside the wall. I try to pull it out, but to no avail. I get tweezers out of my bag, and use them as pliers to try to pull the button out... it won't budge. By this point, I'm getting a little concerned and beads of nervous sweat are forming on my forehead. I try twisting it a little bit... it moves... YAY... thinking logically, I twist a little more... BAD IDEA! Water starts leaking out of the flusher hole. Now I know I'm in over my head and need to wake up the family. I look in the mirror for a few moments; long enough to shake my head at myself, chuckle at the misfortune that I thought only occurred in films, and gather enough courage to go upstairs. I climb the stairs louder than usual, reasoning that it would be better if they heard me coming instead of just shocking them to death in the middle of the night. I meekly shout for Elena (the mother). She comes out of her room looking confused. Knowing that her English isn't good enough to understand what I needed to say, and that my Italian isn't good enough to explain that I may or may not have broken her deceased mother's toilet, I just said the word 'problem' in Italian and motioned for her to follow me downstairs. She sees the toilet, shouts "Mamma Mia!" and turns the water off from under the sink. Then she shouts for Orlando to wake up and come fix it. Half an hour later, the toilet is fixed, I am completely mortified, and everyone is up later than they want to be.

I suppose my summer in Italy wouldn't be complete without a good disaster story to laugh about later!

Pieve di Cento

So much to say... where to begin?!

Last week, I lived in a modern downtown apartment flat in the middle of B0logna's centre with a very new-age, urban family. This week, I live in a farm house in the middle of nowhere, between corn fields and pear orchards, with a Jehovah's Witness family. I'm very pleased that I am getting the chance to experience the wide range of lifestyles that Italy has to offer. Although I miss being in a bustling city, the countryside is so beautiful here, and I have an entire guesthouse to myself. I'm able to watch television for the first time, but I don't have the internet there. (Watching the Michael Jackson Memorial was very irritating because I couldn't here the English over the Italian translator!)

Oh, and just a tiny detail I forgot to mention about the family: None of them speak a word of English. Luckily, I've picked up enough Italian to understand most of what they say to me, but I feel bad when I talk to them, because I'm sure I'm slaughtering their verbs. Having studied Spanish helps a biut, but it also confuses a lot of things too. Things that I am sure would be the same in both languages are not, etc. However, it's really kind of exhilerating to communicate with them despite the language barrier. I feel like I'm learning Italian and creating my own dialect of sign language all at the same time!

This camp is certainly not my favorite, but it's almost time to move again, so that's good. The camp was two weeks long, but I entered only for the second week. When the director picked me up from the train station, she told me that the current tutors are not getting along at all and I needed to be the peace-maker and the bridge over troubled water (ps: that's a great song!). Then she tells me that half of my class is elementary students and half are media (middle school) students. So I am having to teach two different levels in the same classroom. To top it all off, I've never had such an unintelligent class. I don't mean to sound cross, but they really are stupid. Here are a few examples from there work books to prove my point. (Keep in mind this is AFTER I have taught the lesson and done two or three games with them enforcing the lesson.):

>What's in front of the computer?
---"No, there isn't."
>Describe ACTIVITIES you don't enjoy.
---I don't enjoy "kiwi".
>What's in the box?
----"In the box what's dog."

And here's one that made me laugh for a while!
>Comparatives: A ___ is better than a ___.
---- A "cat" is better than a "boy".

>Then, as the camp assistant walks us around the square, she points to a statue of a naked man and says "He has a very nice... how do you say? ....library!"
Then the director says: "No, no, not a library... the word is ass!"
I feel bad making fun of someone who speaks more languages than I do, but of all things to get mixed up, it must take a very special person to confuse those two words.

In addition to not being very bright, they are also very ornery. I assumed that the child I lived with (who is also in my class) would be no trouble at all since he is being raised in a Jehovah's Witness family... WRONG! He is one of the least Christ-like children I have ever encountered. On top of annoying me every second, never listening, and not memorizing his lines for the show, which I unfortunately take too seriously (This week I'm doing The Jonas Sisters.), he got me wet today. If you know me well, you know that I really hate getting wet without wearing the proper getting-wet attire. Today we played water games with the kids, and they thought it would be really funny to dump water all over me. -*Sigh*- I guess I should expect to get wet when I play water games with ten year-olds. But a boy can have hope, cant't he?!?!

As far as being the peace-maker, that was a piece of cake. We all went to Venice on Sunday and had plenty of bonding time. It was one of the best days since I've been in Italy. That city is so incredible... it really feels like you've been dropped into a different world. We bought the most horribly cheesy tourist hats we could find, toured the city on a gondola (€120 for 45 minutes), ate the cheapest food the city has to offer, and just had the time of our lives!!! We went home exhausted and pennyless (quite literally: I had to scrounge around for 5 cent coins until I had enough to buy a departure train ticket). It was also one of the most ironic days I've ever experienced... really of double-irony, if you will.

On the two hour train ride to Venice we were having a very intense conversation about irony, and how most people say things are ironic when they really aren't, instead of using words like coincidental or bad luck. (My Welsh friend Alex also wants me to include in my blog that all of the examples of ironic situations in Alanis Morisset's (spelling?) song titled "Ironic" are not actually ironic at all.) ANYWAY, we came to the conclusion that ironic situations are much more rare than usually assumed, and that they are truly special occurences.

Fast forward to the end of the day (makes zooming noise in head)....

As we approach the train station to return home, we hear the beating of a drum coming from around the corner. When we walk around the corner, we see this huge crowd of people gathered around these Native Americans who were in full tribal dress, playing music and dancing. So there I am, an American boy from the Mid-West, who has traveled all the way to the other hemisphere of the world to indulge in Italian culture, and I'm watching Native Americans (most likely from the Mid-West) who have traveled all the way to the other hemisphere of the world to indulge Italians in American culture. IRONY

Then we board the train, and we're about an hour away from our stop. Paul repeats a question word for word that I had asked Jordan about two minutes earlier. We tease him about not paying attention, and he starts telling us that he can be really ditzy sometimes. Then Alex admits that she's ditzy a lot too and has no common sense at all. Then I explain that I think I have a lot of common sense, but that my brother always tells me that I don't... so I'm a little bit self-conscious about it. This of course leads to about a hundred and one hilarious stories from all four of us about our ditziest moments. About an hour and ten minutes wizzes by... I look at my watch and say "Shouldn't we be home already."
...And at that moment the four of us start laughing uncontrollably at how absurd it is that while we were sitting there talking about ditziness, we missed our stop. IRONY

And because of the fact that we had discussed in the morning that ironic situations are so rare and don't occur as much as most people think, it became the day of double irony! Which Alex and I decided to shorten to DIRONY.

Bologna

So now that I am in Bologna, I realize that it would be incredibly cliche and corny to make an attempt at an Oscar Meyer joke... so I will resist. However, it has got me thinking about bologna (the food) and how irritating it is to pronounce the word 'buh-lone-ee' in English. I want to know what kind of fool came up with that idea!?! I mean, really... I can over-look someone pretending like the 'g' is silent, but who would see the ending 'na' and decide that it should be interpreted as 'nee'. The world is a crazy and confusing place. The more of it I see, the less I understand. I think that is also what creates passion, though... searching and reaching towards something that cannot be completely in the realm of human comprehension.
hmmm... and now I have somehow managed to digress from bologna to passion... I must be in Italy!

It was sad to leave my family in Rho... they were so welcoming and I really felt at-home with them. At the camp's final show (My James Bond song and kick-line at the end was a hit!), the mothers of the host families presented the tutors with a bouquet of rosemary, which symbolizes remembrance. It was very touching. And my host sister is old enough to use facebook daily, so I can still easily keep in touch.

Arriving in Bologna was very exciting. I discovered that my new family (a young couple and their 8 year-old son: Vincenzo, and 2 year-old daughter: Francesca) lives in a downtown flat, a short walk away from the main piazza and sights of the city. Saturday night, I explored the city by myself, and Sunday I went with the other tutors. We toured the main sights: the leaning medieval towers, the '7 churches', and the famous statue of Neptune (Italians used to believe that the Pope ruled the land while Neptune ruled the sea.). The family (the Polizzi's) are very nice, but they are also very distant. They gave me a key to the flat and told me I am free to go wherever I want, whenever I want. They almost seem to pretend I'm not here, but I guess it's nice to have some alone time... I've been able to read a few hundred pages of my new book. And I have a computer with internet in my room, which is very convenient!

This camp is only a one-week camp and I have a small class of 7 ten year olds. They are so much better behaved than my other classes that it's almost eerie. I usually feel like I'm yelling at kids all day, but I have yet to raise my voice at them once! I have a handicapped girl in my class... which is a challenge. It's frustrating to be afraid to move ahead with the lesson because one person is having trouble, but the camp director told me not to worry... that she is just at the camp for the experience and opportunity to hear more English, not to try to understand all the concepts. With absolutely no disrespect intended, she looks exactly like a younger version of the character in the movie 'The Other Sister'... just an observation.

Unfortunately, with well-behaved classes comes fewer funnier stories... which leads to less humorous blog posts..(sigh).. I guess you can't have your cake (...or gelato) and eat it too!
I've really only had one slightly funny thing happen so far.

I was teaching body parts to my class of 10 year olds today (I'm sure you can already guess where this story is headed--pun intended [head is a body part]--), and I made a game where they threw a wad of paper at me.... and they had to name the body part that it hit ('ear, leg, shoulder, nose, etc'). Anyway, I don't know if they were doing it on purpose or if they were just really bad throwers, but almost every wad hit me right in the crotch. Clearly I can't be teaching them the words for the body parts they were hitting, so I kept having to pretend they hit my 'hips'... awkward.

Then, I had them complete a page in their work books, which asked them to draw a picture of themselves, then label their body using the words provided below. I thought it would be a safer activity since it provided the words for them; however, upon grading their books during break, I realized that almost all of them had drawn themselves without clothes. So I was sitting there staring at a bunch of self portraits of 10 year-olds wearing nothing but bikinis or tighty-whiteys. I wasn't sure whether it was less ethical to examine them to make sure they labeled correctly, or to just skip grading that page. I took my chances because I have a few little girls who get quite upset if they don't get a sticker on every page. As a side note, I also get complaints if I put two of the same kind of sticker on subsequent lesson pages: "Why does Alessandra have two different stickers in her exercise book, but I have two of the same... is she better than I am?!?!" Of course, this is a dialogue that I have loosely translated from a combination of rapid Italian and sign language.


Things I miss about home:

-Obviously, my family and friends.
-Speaking at a normal pace.
-Always having clean clothes.
-Chinese food.
-Waking up after 7am.
-Legitimate Singing (I think I sing more camp songs in a week than the entire Girl Scout Federation, but I really miss having a 4x4 practice module to sing how I should be. -- and no, Lindsay Keller, I have not lost my mind... I really do miss it (and I miss you, too!).


Things I will miss about Italy:

-Basically everything, I'm sure!
-And most noteworthy, eating 'meat & melon'. It sounds gross, but a common Italian meal consists of prosciutto (VERY thinly sliced ham) on top of slices of cantaloupe. It sounds bad. It looks bad. It tastes AMAZING!!!

Rho

I apologize for not updating sooner, but my computer access is restricted by my eleven year-old host brother who is obsessed with computer games... And when I'm not at school, I'm ususally sleeping. I am loving this job, but it is the most exhausting thing I have ever done!! I wake up at 6:45, go to the school, come home, eat dinner, read a chapter of my book, and go to bed at 10:00 (with the exception of tonight).

As I mentioned earlier, this job isn't just teaching a class... most of the time it's more of a summer-camp atmosphere, so I'm chasing little kids around all day. I've never felt so old in my life... I don't remember having that much energy when I was younger.

Anyway....Rho. I am in a suburb of Milan called Rho, which is a quiet little town just a metro ride away from the big city. It actually reminds me a lot of my hometown of Nixa... it's not big and fancy, but it covers all the bases. And my host family here isn't much different than my real family either. My host family in Piacenza was very nice and accomodating, but I felt like I was just renting a room from them and eating their food. This family (the Stucchi's) is very close-knit and they have really made me feel like a part of the family. It's a husband and wife, their 17 year-old daughter (Giulia), and their 11 year-old son (Francesco- who is in my class). Every night at dinner, we have really great conversations and we all laugh at eachother... and we laugh at the father's numerous failed attempts to form grammatically-correct sentences in English. Tonight I had them busting up laughing because we were talking about my brother (my real brother, Barrett) and they asked what he studies. They obviously didn't understand the words Wildlife Conservation... but when I looked up the word "wildlife" in the dictionary, I accidentally read the translation of the previous word... which was "wild goose-chase". It took me a solid two minutes to realize why they were laughing so hard.

The flat we live in is very small. I feel a little bad because they gave me the kids' bedroom, and now the kids sleep on the couch... but I guess it's only two weeks for them. The only challenge living here is that all 5 of us share one bathroom. The shower is right in front of a full-length mirror... which can make one very self-aware while one is drying off. Yesterday, when I opened the shower door, I was a little bit disturbed by what I saw in the mirror. My fully-developed farmer's tan makes me look like one of those tubs of vanilla ice-cream with caramel swirls. I've heard it said that people in Italy have beautiful bodies... but mine just looks completely ridiculous!

Hmm... that serves as a nice segue to one of my favorite things here... gelato. I've spent more money on gelato than anything else since my plane landed three weeks ago. Why doesn't America have more gelaterias like these?? There are SOOO many flavors. I think my favourite (spelled with a U because I am required to teach British English at the camps) so far is mango.
Saturday, I spent the day in Milan... it is a beautiful place, but nothing like I imagined. Being the fashion capital of the world, I suppose I expected the clothing shops to be on grand (metaphorical) pedestals with Vegas-like advertising signs. But high-end fashion is such a part of the Italian culture and everyday life that it's really not highlighted anymore than in other cities. Anyway, the main piazza is home to the Duomo Milano, which is an enormous cathedral. We climbed the stairs to the top and had an amazing view of the city. Then when we went inside, the guard wouldn't let Giulia in because she was wearing a tank-top (I'm thinking "Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."). Then thye took me to see Teatro alla Scalla: one of the most distinguished opera houses in the world. It honestly doesn't look like much from the outside compared to the other grand architectural features of the city. I was hoping to see Aida, but it was sold out (and I didn't pack a coat and tie). After that, we went to happy hour at a local bar, and I purchased alcohol for the first time in my life. At the risk of sounding like a complete wimp, I ordered a strawberry daqueri (...pausing for laughter and sneering...).

At the camp in Rho, I have a class of 12 eleven and twelve year-olds. Although it's nice to have students who understand complete English sentences, it makes it more challenging to come up with games and activities that they don't think are stupid. My proudest moment was being able to get them all doing a can-can kickline in sync. One of my girls wanted a kickline to be at the end of the final show that we put on for the parents on Friday. Although the show (which I wrote based on characters they wanted to play) is "James Bond and the Horror House", I managed to make up a song at the end where they could all do a kick-line. It may sound easy, but there is nothing easy about getting pubescent twelve year-old boys to kick their legs up in unison!
Well, I better get off the computer and write my lesson plan to teach comparatives in the morning. Italy is wonderful; I am happy, healthy, and over-fed... life is good.

PS: I am finishing an amazing book right now, if anyone is searching for something inspiring and eye-opening to read. It is titled "Three Cups of Tea". It is about a mountain-climber who promises to return to Pakistan to help the village that saved his life after his failed attempt to summit K2. He ends up building dozens of schools across Pakistan and Afghanistan, especially for girls, who are discouraged from being educated. It gives an end-depth look at humanitarianism, Central-Asia politics leading to and during 9\11, and the philosophy that bombs will not prevent terrorism... only education will.
(Dear publisher, please send Taylor Martin of Nixa, MO a large check for his positive review and advertisement on a public forum!)

Piacenza

Wow... what a week it is turning out to be!
Although leaving so many new friends from Orientation was sad, I am having such a great time on the job. Not only do I get to teach aclass of my own, but I also feel like I'm in a 24-hour class, learning and absorbing everything I can!

When I (along with the 6 other tutors in Piacenza) arrived at the train station, our host families were waiting to pick us up. All the other tutors were being taken away by middle-aged couples with a small child and a dog. Someone taps me on the shoulder and I turn around. There to pick me up, is a beautiful 19 year-old girl and her boyfriend... which I thought was odd. Luckily, she had studied in Canada for a bit, and is fluent in English. As we drove home in her brand new Audi, she explains that her parents were in England for the weekend because the 9 year-old daughter was in the finals of an international rhythmic gymnastics competition...?

As it turns out, my family (the Podreccas) have seven children living at home and a housekeeper. They're basically the Italian Brady Bunch with long names. The father, Luciano is a CFO at big-time company, so they are fairly well-off. I was given my own bedroom and I share a bathroom with the housekeeper (HAHAHAHA!!!).

Working at the school has been so amazing... I stay up late making a lesson plan each night, then teach it in the morning, using related songs/games/activities, go home, eat dinner, and repeat. Being able to establish a bond with my 10 kids this week has been such a great experience... and has also made me appreciate elementary teachers much more. When they enter the class in the morning and they answer a question using the words or verb forms that I taught them the previous days, I get such a good feeling inside. And they are so affectionate, always wanting to hold my hand or sit on my lap.

Sometimes I wonder if teaching them English for a week is really going to make a difference... but then I realize that it's not really about how much material or vocabulary they learn during the week. It's about showing them that learning can be fun... and to inspire them to want to keep learning more. And even if they come away without improving their English much, I think it is very valuable to learn/practice how to communicate with people non-verbally. Because of the language barrier, they often have to act out what they want to say and use distinct facial expressions. Likewise, so do I! I often try to picture how hard my friends would be laughing ig they saw me talking to these kids. I always tease my dad for talking with his hands so much... but that is nothing compared to what I'm having to do!

The funniest part is that even though they know that I don't speak Italian, they will get excited and run up to me, screaming in Italian at a speed that makes my head spin. And I just smile and look at them, pointing at my ears saying, "You know I don't speak Italian." I don't think they really care though... they just want to say what they want to say to me, and they aren't really concerned with whether I understand or not.

Tomorrow is the last day of English Camp with them, and it will be a little sad to leave them in Piacenza, knowing that I will probably never see them again... but also hoping that I had a positive impact on their education and at least motivated them to want to learn more. Tomorrow is also the final show for all the parents. My kids wanted to do a fairytale, so we have a prince trying to marry a princess in a castle, but he has to fight a crocodile, dragon, and a knight on the way. Then the ladies in the castle tells him he can't take their princess away... then it ends with a song I made up. Coming from a theatre background, it was really fun to be able to organize their ideas into a plot, write a script, block the actions, and hand-make the set, props, and costumes. I can't wait to sit in front of them tomorrow and watch the show, feeding them sporadic English words that they have a hard time saying.

The only part I'm not enjoying somuch is dealing with the trouble makers. I'm not a confrontational person at all, but for some reason that has not stopped me from disciplining 9 year-olds (GRRR!!!). And as much as I hate to enforce gender stereotypes, I think Ican say without a doubt that 9 year-old girls are simply more well-behaved than 9 year-old boys. One of my kids, Riccardo (Ironic that he basically has my dad's name?), makes me want to scream sometimes! He can't just sit still... he is never listening or paying attention, and he constantly shouts at the top of his lungs, running around the classroom like a complete maniac, which gets all the other kids riled-up. I really wish I had some sort of hard drugs to give him or something!

We played water-games today for our afternoon activity. I had to tell him 5 times that we don't start playing until 3:00. At lunch, I'm looking around, counting my 10 kids out of the group (as I do about 100 times a day) to make sure nobody's died yet. As usual, I only count 9... it's always Riccardo who's missing. So I walk into the corridor and I hear him yelling "Taylor, look!". I turn around and see him running out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a bright red speedo. And I'm like "Ahhh, Riccardo! Where are your clothes!?!" I proceed to pull him back into the bathroom, kneel down to eye-level, and scold him firmly. So then he pouts for the next 15 minutes until he decides to play another round of 'Cause Complete Mayhem'. All the other tutors keep saying, "I don't know how you deal with him." ... But I am. And when the day is over, he really just makes me laugh. How many times in my life am I going to be chasing a speedo-wearing 9 year-old through an Italian school, screaming "Where are your clothes!?!"

One thing I've noticed living with an Italian family is how different their dining habits are. First of all, not all Europeans eat slowly. These people eat a plate of grub faster than Pumba and Timon! I'm also not used to having different 'parts' of a meal. My first night here, they set a big bowl of pasta in front of me. I ate it all, satisfied in thinking that it was all I was going to have. Then the mother whips out a second plate for everyone with proscutto (spelling?... they eat it almost every meal) and salami. Then when I think we're done, she'll go get something else. At my house in Missouri, you set all the food on the table at once so people can plan their food intake based on their hunger and the available items. But in Italy, they just keep surprising you by pullin' another dish out of their Mary Poppins bag! So then you have to eat beyond your body's capacity so you don't feel rude.

But I don't have to worry about gaining a lot of weight because I ride a bike to the school and back everyday... and it's a half-hour ride each way (meaning I get up at 6:15). I actually really enjoy the rides though... besides the fact that I haven't been on a bicycle literally in years, it's a nice way to wake up and mentally prepare and energize myself for the day to come. It's almost like a high-active metitation of sorts.

I leave on Saturday for my next location.. I think it's a city called Roi... I can't really remember how it's spelled... or even if it actually starts with an R, but I'm afraid if I go get my papers, one of the 7 kids will overtake the computer. Anyway, I've obviously gotten extremely close to the 6 other tutors here, and it will be sad to leave... but I'm sure next week will be just as exciting! One of the tutors I work with now (Clement, from Great Britain) will also be going to the same spot, so that will be nice.

Favorite quotes of the week:
From my hilarious co-tutor, Laura (you have to imagine these said with a thick British accent.):
"Speak properly, you f***ing American!"
"When in Rome, do the Romans!"
And I can't qoute it word for word, but the second time I ever spoke to my host mother, she tried to explain to me in broken English that the reason she has so many children is because good Catholics don't use contraception...(lengthy awkward silence followed... what is a complete stranger living in your home supposed to say in response to that!?).

Addio Orientation!

As I sit in an internet cafe on the main piazza of San Remo, I am filled with so much excitement and anxiety. Today was the last day of orientation, which means many things. The first of which is that the knowledge and practice I have today is all that I will have going into my first classroom. The bad part is that tonight is perhaps the last time I will ever see most of the other tutors that I have grown so close with this week.

A few hours ago, our first placements were announced... out of the 90 tutors at this week's orientation, only a little less than half of us were placed in camps for next week. Everyone else stays on-hold in a village indefinitely, until a position opens up for them. Luckily, I was given a placement (YAY!!!). In about 12 hours (Saturday morning), I will board a train to Piacenza, Italy (northern region, near Milan), where I will live with a host family by myself and teach at the camp there for one week. I was told to expect excessive heat and mosquitos in that area. There are 6 other tutors placed at the camp (and they're all really fun and cool). We will each be given our own class of about 7-12 students. I won't know what age group I have until I meet with that camp's director tomorrow. I believe that the age of students at that camp ranges from 6 to about 12 or 13ish. Needless to say, I am STOKED!

The leaders keep telling us that we become like little celebrities to the neighborhoods in which we leave. Most of the families greet us at the train station with hugs and kisses (Italians are VERY touchy!). We are told that they will probably want us to meet everyone they know, and that they will shove food at us all day until we either refuse it or throw up. (No complaints here!)

Things I've observed since my last entry:
-Dogs are even allowed in the grocery stores, rubbing their noses through the produce.

-Italians walk so slowly...ALWAYS! It's a 25 minute walk through the busiest street in the city (with a million shops, cafes and a casino on it)from my hotel room to the orientation centre, and sometimes I'm in hurry... especially when I'm walking it by myself. So I either have to leave a little earlier than I think I should or risk looking like a COMPLETE annoying tourist, shouting "Scuzi!" as I weave through herds of people and scooters.

-I think I prefer red wine to white. I had my first drink less than a month ago, so I don't have much to compare it to... but I've had complimentary wine with my dinner every night since I've been here. It really is easier to find and cheaper to drink than water.

-Dancing at bars in Italy is just as much fun as dancing at bars in America.

-More people can't locate Missouri on a map than you would think... A lot of the friends that I've made here (all the ones from Canada, the UK, and Australia) ask questions like "Where is that?" or "Oh yeah, that's on the west coast, right?" It's really opened my eyes to how unaware Americans are of certain things. I feel like the culture I grew up in made me assume that everyone knew so much about the USA because 'we're the best'. I never really thought about the fact that they don't drill the 50 states into students' heads in London. Likewise, I became very embarrassed when my roommate asked me if I could name the eight provinces and three territories of Canada. (I can now, though!)

Anyway, I am sad to leave so many friends, but I am very excited to see what next week has in store for me! And I can't wait to have a classroom of kids eager to learn and have fun! I think I am going to try to find a full-size Italian flag to have all my kids and host families sign throughout the summer, so that I will have something tangible by which to remember them.

"To teach, you need a degree; but to educate, you only need to be yourself."

Bienvenuto a ITALIA!!!

After four very long and wonderful days, I have finally found an internet cafe. Unfortunately, hius post will be limited due to the long line behind me... and it's already costing me 5 or 6 euro.

I flew from STL to NYC, and then from NYC to Nice, France on Friday night, into Saturday morning. My wonderful friends were gracious enough to meet me at the NYC airport for lunch during my lay-over (Thanks guys... you made my day!). I landed in Nice and waited there to meet up with a few other tutors. Instead of just sitting around at the airport, I decided to explore the city, so I walked around and stumbled upon a zoo-park kind of place... so I decided to spend my fist ew euro to walk around it. It was so NICE to be in Nice (ha!) by myself with no destination or restrictions. Once the other tutors arrived, we had to figure out which bu to take t the train station, then which trains we needed to take to arrive in San Remo.

A few hours later, after feeling like we were on the Amazing Race (because we had to be there by 6, the ticket machine wouldnt except our credit cards, and none of us had ever studied French), we were finally greeted by our leaders at the San Remo train station. San Remo is a beautiful coastal own on the Italian Riviera. Perfect weather, palm trees, sand beaches, the whole sha-bang. I share a hotel flat ith four other tutors (from Florida, NYC, and Ontario respectively). They are all very nie and I have already become fiends with several of the other tutors here. My room is on the top floor, so we have beautiful view of the city and the sea from our balcony.

Saturday night, my flat-mates and I explored the city... very busy streets and tons of little shops and cafe's. Gellato and shoes are sold at almost every store. San Remo is also known for their extensive flower vendors, and it has the highest scooter-population ratio of any city in Italy. Drivers are crazy here... they do anything, and all the pedestrians just walk in the middle of the very narrow road. I think I would be considered a very good driver here!!

Sunday, we spent the day sunbathing and reading books on the tops-optional beach.

Thn yesterday and today, we have been in training from 9-5. The training is so interesting and I am learning so much. I am very excited to start working with my own class at the camps. I have really been inspired by the methods we are trained to use, and the things that our directors have told us. Italy has one of the worst educational systems in the EU, and ACLE has put on English caps for the last 26 years in order to slowly change the system, and to show teachers that their methods of education are ineffective. The directors use the word 'Medieval' to describe the education system here.

The typical Italian child studies English from kindergarten, but very few actually learn it well or enjoy it. They work from the 'chalk and talk' method hours each day, and never get to speak or use it practically. For example, the directors son studied chemistry for two years, but didn't know what a test-tube looked like. He had never done a single experiment in those two years.Our camps teach them English through fun-based, didactic activities... including gams, songs, and sports. We only use workbooks for an hour or two each day. For the rest of the time we lead them in learning and using Englsh by being themselves and enjoying being a kid.

Interesting fact: If I end up teaching a camp at the maturna level (4-6 year-olds) and have to review the alphabet, they make us teach the British pronounciation... which will be quite strange/fun. They pronounce H as 'haych' with the huh sound at the beginning...which actually does make more sense. But they pronounce Z as 'zed'... which maks no sense to me. Why would there only be one letter in the alphabet that contains two consonants n its pronunciation??

Anyway, I am already having an amazing time, and am learning so much. I have loved every second of it! It is also wonderful to be in such a diverse group. The tutors come from 8 different countries (all with the mother-tongue of English) and range in age from 20-30. Many of them already have degrees in education, while others (like myself) are here just exploring a passion. After teaching at least two camps, I will also earn my TEFL certification (teaching English as a foreign language). Although this certification is only recognized by the EU (US uses ESL- English as second language certificate), it will be a great thing to have!

I think I will know if/where I am assigned for the first week of camp by Thursday.
Hopefully I'll be able to post again soon and let you know! I love you all!

Ciao!

PS: Why do we not have jelly-filled or chocolate-filled croissants in the US??