Teacher on Two Wheels

Above: High school students, Kamuk School

Tuesday 2/12/08 Heredia, Costa Rica

For the next month I’ll be working at Kamuk School in Tibas, Costa Rica. The school, a brightly colored set of buildings complete with farm animals and an atrium cafeteria, is home to 700 students from grades K-12. Kamuk is a private school and requires students to take an entrance exam before granting them admission. This year, the school turned away 200 applicants from the pool of new students who applied for admission. At just over $250 a month per pupil, the school fees are expensive by Costa Rican standards and hence make attendance within the reach of only certain Costa Rican students in the Tibas/San Jose area.

Above: High school students, Kamuk School

On the first day of school, when I was sitting on the bus awash in the warm morning rays of sun beaming through the window, Alejandro, the English teacher I’ll be working and living with for the next month, tapped me on the shoulder.

“Oh, I forgot to mention—don’t be surprised if you see students hugging and kissing teachers today. I know it’s not common in the states to see students kissing teachers on the cheek, but today, because it’s the first day back since summer vacation [summer break is from early December to early February in Costa Rica] you’ll see a lot of hugging and kissing,” Alejandro said.

I thought back to my time spent teaching at a high school in New Jersey and how nervous all the male teachers were about contact with female students. Handshakes were issued with caution and only in certain situations; a kiss on the cheek would be flat out scandalous.

Sure enough, the moment Alejandro stepped foot on Kamuk’s campus, hugs, kisses, handshakes, and warm greetings swarmed around him everywhere he walked like a cloud of butterflies. A buzz was in the air and both students and teachers alike were visibly happy to be back at school. Walking to the teacher’s office took far longer that it usually does because Alejandro was stopped by so many of his old students eager to say hello. Not having been in a classroom in six months, the scene really made me miss having a steady job in a school. Only through being around students day in and day out, year after year, can a teacher build up the types of close bonds Alejandro shares with his students.

Above: Alejandro doing his thing, Kamuk School

I introduced myself to four different classes and told the students a little about my trip. When, at Alejandro’s request, I told the students about how people of every country have warned me about traveling to areas further along my route, how the majority of the people I have met have been scared of their fellow humans and inhibited by their fear, a boy with spiky hair and wide eyes raised his hand.

“My parents drove from America to Costa Rica on their honeymoon,” he said using perfect English with just a slight accent. “In Guatemala, someone robbed them. Guatemala is dangerous. I don’t want to visit there.”

The generalization beating away in the heart of his story, that a country is dangerous because of an isolated criminal incident on its soil, is one that I have encountered so frequently on the trip that my ears now start to ache when they hear it screeching and groaning away in the sentences of new acquaintances.

“Is Guatemala dangerous? Can we say that the country is dangerous based on what happened to your parents?” I asked no one in particular.

The boy’s raised eye brows and shrugged shoulders said I don’t know.

“OK,” I said, “Listen to this. Your teacher Alejandro has been robbed or almost robbed four times. Four times! All in San Jose and Heredia.” This was true. Earlier in the day while we were on the bus, Alejandro recounted the different times people have mugged him in his life. Once he actually fought off two attackers when, at knifepoint, they demanded his money. Seeing his adversaries were young and smaller than he, Alejandro pushed the man holding a knife with all his might and then kicked the other man as hard as he could. He stunned the two men just long enough to give him time to run away.

“Would it be fair then for Alejandro to tell people that Costa Rica is a dangerous place, that the whole country is a dangerous place?” I continued.

A few students shook their heads.

“No, of course he can’t say that. What he can say is this, however: He met six or seven dangerous people in Costa Rica. But, for him to say that Costa Rica is a dangerous place based on what happened to him at the hands of a few people is unfair to all of the kind, good-hearted people that live here, right?”

Some students nodded in agreement. Others started to get that glazed look in their eyes that all teachers dread, the look that says Uhhh I’m not absorbing anything you’re saying right now, just to let you know.  I’d rather go and count blades of grass in the field outside than continue listening to you.

When we finished class, a bunch of students shook my hand and welcomed me to the school. One smiling student even, get ready, thanked me for teaching the class. He was sincere when he spoke. Never before has a student thanked me for a class and truly meant it. Woohoo! I’m looking forward to spending the next month at Kamuk.  

If I spoke to your class today–Thank you!  I had an awesome time! 

Above: Elementary school students feeding the animals at recess, Kamuk School