Puebla Bound

Retired Blog

2006-09-04T17:41:00.000-06:00

Those of you who keep checking for my latest post, thanks for checking and I'm sorry there hasn't been anything new. This blog was really for my Puebla trip. Now that the trip is over, there hasn't been much to say.

I'm thinking about writing another blog. I haven't yet decided on a topic or theme. Maybe something about golf, maybe a school counseling blog, maybe some of my photos or some of my writing. I haven't decided.

Anyway, thanks for reading this blog. I hope to blog again in the future.

Gooding County Leader Articles

2006-06-27T06:53:00.000-06:00

While I was in Puebla, I submitted four articles to the Gooding County Leader. Thank you Kelly for publishing them. I thought I would include them for all the people reading my blog who don't get the paper. The articles include some of the same stuff, and some different.

I would also like to thank the following for their help with trip. Without their support, I could never have done this.

Neva, Harry, Sue, George & Danette, B. Edgar, Wayne and Vicky, Pat and Sandy, Donna, Orv & Roberta, the kind and generous people of Wendell, Paul and Trueline, Steve and Susan (my brother-in-law and sister), Janae and Braeden (my niece and nephew), and of course my mom and dad. Thank you all so much.

The next four posts are the newspaper articles.

Gooding County Leader June 26

2006-06-27T06:52:00.000-06:00

Gooding County Leader 26-Jun-06

As I write this, my experience in Puebla is nearing the end. I have completed all the class time, learned all I’m going to learn here, and have only a few hours until I am back in the United States, and more importantly, back in Idaho. Tonight, I have one last meal with mi familia. We will talk in Spanish and English, laugh together, take pictures, and share stories and memories.

I’ve thought so much about what I am taking home. I’m taking home a few souvenirs for my family, but more importantly, I’m taking home experiences and memories that have forever changed how I view the world. I have seen and experienced things that I did not realize existed, or had ignored for most of my life.

For example, I have a new appreciation for a pedestrian society. Here in Puebla there are certainly a lot of cars, after all there are 5 million people living here. But the majority of people do not own cars. They can get anywhere they need to go either on foot or via public transportation. In Idaho that is a rare luxury. Where I live in Twin Falls, the nearest convenience store is a 25 minute walk away.

Here in Puebla, within a ten minute walk of the house is a convenience store, a bakery, a laundry, a barber shop, a hardware store, a tortilleria, a music shop, a glass shop, a picture frame shop, and a kitchen cabinet workshop – and that is just on the street I take to get to school. I haven’t even walked the other direction.

No matter where one lives in this city, all the necessary products and services are nearby. Walking to the store, work, or school may seem like an inconvenience to many, but I have learned to appreciate that time and the routine. And I’m not the only one with a regular morning routine.

Each morning, about two blocks from my house, I pass a married couple who is on their morning walk. We exchange greetings and a smile, each and every day. Each morning I pass the same vendor selling newspapers to the morning commuters. Next, I pass a maid who is out sweeping the gutter in front of her employer’s house, again every day. Several blocks later, I pass Jorge, who is making fresh orange juice. Two blocks after him, I pass Omar, who is also making fresh orange juice.

Next is the police officer cleaning his car, close to the sushi restaurant and behind Blockbuster. Yes, he washes his own car. Several blocks later there is a pet store. Each morning as I pass by, the owner is just opening up, mopping the floors, feeding the animals. Although we exchange, “Buenos Dias,” I regret not stopping to get his name. I should have taken the time talk with him, but I’m a busy American: I have places to go. Obviously I don’t really have any place urgent, but I still find myself with that “I’m too busy” attitude.

Two blocks before the institute I attended, I pass the same mother taking her children to school. One door east of the institute sits the same man, who I assume is waiting for a ride to work. I did not converse with all these people on a daily basis, but with most I exchanged at least a smile. The first few times we crossed paths, neither of us realized we were keeping similar schedules. After a week of seeing each other every day, we began to recognize each other. I began to look forward to seeing these people. If the married couple was not there, I was a little disappointed. “I wonder what happened. I hope everything is okay.” Why would I be concerned about people I don’t really know? Because that is what vecinos do.

I’m hoping to move to Wendell in the near future. If the price of gas continues to rise, I’m not sure I’ll be able to afford to commute 50 miles a day. The main reason for moving, though, is because living in Wendell, in town, would offer me the opportunity to create a pedestrian lifestyle for myself. Each morning as I drive into Wendell, I pass many of the same people. However, we don’t interact with each other. I’m in my car, and they’re either in their car or walking. The opportunity for social interaction isn’t readily available.

If I lived in Wendell, and walked to school, I would have the chance to create new relationships, even if those relationships are only a smile and a wave.

I’m ashamed to admit that after living in Twin Falls for two years, the only neighbors I know are the ones who live across the street. Dean and Mary are very nice people. Why haven’t I gone to meet the other neighbors? Why haven’t they come to meet me? I don’t have a good answer to that question. But I do have a good solution. When I get home, I intend to make some chocolate chip cookies – with pure Mexican vanilla, deliver them to my neighbors and say, “Hi, I’m Chris and I’ve lived next door to you for two years now.”

One final travel story from my time in Puebla. Last Wednesday we visited Tecali. I enjoyed the small city, but I especially enjoyed the fact that it was a small city, out in the middle of the country, surrounded by farms and fields. We first visited an ex-convent. The structure is amazing. Although the roof is gone, the supports and walls are still there. The original doors are there also, which may not seem like much, except these 15 foot high, 12 foot wide doors are 400 years old.

We got to climb the bell tower, up a narrow spiral staircase, stairs that monks and nuns climbed 400 years ago to ring the bell. This ex-convent has a huge water tank that I would estimate to be 20 feet deep, 50 feet long and 50 feet wide. All the rainwater was collected from the roof and stored in this huge tank for the nearby residents. Gravity was also used to create sinks with running water. All the waste water was collected in a different area to be used in the gardens. This structure is an architectural and engineering wonder.

I took pictures of paintings from 400 years ago, original paintings. Some have been horribly eroded by sun and weather, but others, protected from the elements because they were painted on ceilings, are amazing.

After the ex-convent, we visited a marble and onyx factory. I have a new appreciation for how much labor goes into a seemingly simple onyx trinket. México does not have OSHA, which some might say is a good thing. The men who work here are either very brave or very foolish. Every machine is capable of taking off a finger, or an arm, in a split second.

After our tour of the factory, we got to peruse the store. They are able to produce incredible works of art, and sell them at very inexpensive prices. Unfortunately, even though that marble vase only costs $60, it weighs 200 pounds, and wouldn’t fit in my suitcase. I bought only small gifts for my family.

I have so much more I could say about my time in Puebla. I met new people, made new friends, tried new foods (for a month I’ve eaten as a vegetarian), seen new sites, and discovered things about myself I never knew. Or, if I knew them, I had forgotten that part of myself.

I experienced another culture, another language, and another society with completely different rules. I bring back an appreciation for how difficult it can be to change one’s life. I bring back a new appreciation for all the things I take for granted in my life.

I bring back a new resolve to be a patient, kind, warm, accepting human being. I bring back a new attitude: I might be an American, but not solely an American and certainly not American above all else. Above all else, I am a person, just like all the other people around me regardless of their race, religion, financial status, education, etc. We all have our individualities, our idiosyncrasies, and we all have our commonalities.

It seems much more important for me to focus on what I have in common with all the friends and potential friends around me.

Gooding County Leader June 19

2006-06-27T06:45:00.002-06:00

Gooding County Leader 19-Jun-06

One week to go. I can’t believe I’ve been here in Puebla for three weeks. In some ways it seems like a very short time; in other ways it feels like I’ve done so much, it can’t have only been three weeks.

This week the language learning became more difficult. I started feeling like I was lost. “When did we learn that? Am I supposed to know this already?”

Carolina, who has been a great teacher, was reinforcing article usage: the, a, some, one, etc. I thought I had it down, that I understand when to use them. We had a short writing assignment, responding to some questions on a worksheet. I included the necessary articles, or so I thought. In the very first sentence, she crossed out an article I had used. “What do you mean there’s no article there. You just got done saying we have to use them.” I was very frustrated. The information I thought I understood, I didn’t.

It makes me think of all the students and families in our schools that are learning English as a second language. There are just as many rules to Spanish as there are to English. The problem is that in English, there are ten times as many exceptions.

There are a lot of Americans that say, “Méxicans should just learn English. This is an English speaking country. If they are going to live and work here, they should learn the language.” I agree. Except, many Americans aren’t interested in foreigners learning English, they want them to KNOW English, right now.

Nearly every person reading this paper learned English the same way I did. For the first two years of our language immersion, we were not required to respond with anything more than simple hand gestures, or a loud yell when we were frustrated. Our teachers allowed us to simply listen to the language, learning the rhythm, sounds and patterns. For two years we were immersed in English 12 to 18 hours per day, every day.

Over the next two years we began using short words and simple sentences. Proper grammar was not a requirement. We were able to communicate most needs and wants, even if we didn’t use the right words, or put them in the right order. Nobody got frustrated with us, nobody laughed at our inability to find the right phrase. Our teachers gently corrected us, teaching us the right words to use. They would point to objects saying, “This is a table. This is a dog. This is milk. What’s the magic word?”

Slowly, our verbal skills increased, our vocabulary increased, our pronunciation improved. Once we had been immersed in the language for four years, somebody finally taught us the alphabet, the numbers, colors, how to spell our name. We spent the next several years learning proper grammar and word usage.

Think of any seven year old you know, a student in first or second grade. Would you call them fluent? Maybe. They certainly know enough English to carry on a basic conversation, even with an adult. I watch people get frustrated with non-English speakers who have been in this country for less than seven years. If we were given that much time to learn our native tongue, why can we not give that much time to someone learning a second language?

Instead of helping them learn the language, we get frustrated at their inability. We laugh at their attempts and make fun of their pronunciation. That doesn’t seem very fair to me. While I have been here, not one person has laughed at me or made fun of my Spanish skills. On the contrary, everyone I speak with wants to help. They smile at my attempt to communicate in a language that is so easy for them. When I use the wrong word, or put words in the wrong order, they gently correct me. If I don’t understand a word or phrase, they find another way to say it so that I will understand.

After spending only three weeks here in Puebla, I have resolved to be a more patient American. When a family comes into the school, to register their student, or take them to a doctor’s appointment, I will not get frustrated with their limited English. When they use the wrong words, or sound like a child just learning English, I will gently correct them. When they call on the phone to say their son or daughter will not be coming to school today, and ask for their homework, I will use my Spanish skills and my English skills to make sure we understand each other.

So many people here in Puebla have been kind and helpful. I want to make sure the families in Wendell can say the same about me.

This week’s excursion was again interesting. We visited Cacaxtla. I have noticed that many of the indigenous names here in México are very hard to pronounce, even for Spanish speakers. Cacaxtla is the sight of one of the largest archeological roofs in the world. Obviously they don’t want to put columns in the middle of a 2,000 year old pyramid, so they have to suspend the roof. I’m not the best judge of size, but I would guess it to be at least two football fields, and maybe closer to three.

Under the roof are paintings from more than 1500 years ago. How often do we repaint our houses? This paint has lasted thousands of years. The roof is an attempt to prevent further erosion and preserve the site.

On the way to the site, Omar, our guide, showed us a curious little insect. It attaches itself to cactus leaves and looks like white mold. But when it is squeezed, the result is a deep red dye. The people who built the pyramids and sites like Cacaxtla used this insect to create red paint, which is still around today. The paintings are wonderful combinations of blue, red, yellow and green, all natural of course.

On the way back to the bus, I had a chance to talk with one of the ground keepers. I didn’t think to write down his name, but he was very nice. He told me he was 74 years old, and still working five days per week. We talked about Idaho, about my schools, about where he grew up. Every time I have the chance to talk with someone here, I get nervous. “I don’t think my Spanish is good enough to carry on a conversation with a real person.” Every time I have a conversation, I am rewarded with kindness and helpfulness and a smiling face.

Next week I will be home, sleeping in my own house in my own bed. I will have time to reflect on the entirety of this experience. I don’t know yet what final lessons I will learn, but I know the life-lessons will be interesting and worthwhile.

For photos of my trip, you can visit my blog:
http://pueblabound.blogspot.com

Until next time, which will be the last, Adios from Puebla.

Gooding County Leader June 12

2006-06-27T06:45:00.001-06:00

Gooding County Leader 12-Jun-06

Two weeks complete, two weeks left to experience Puebla.

Monday through Friday I have the same schedule:
7:15am – Leave for the Institute. It takes about 45 minutes to walk to school.
8:00am – Check e-mail, update my blog, etc., finish the tarea (homework) I should have done the night before.
9:00am – Class begins. We work on Spanish grammar, vocabulary, sentence structure, verb conjugation, etc.
1:00pm – Head to lunch. We have our choices of two restaurants. Most days I eat at La Zanahoria (The Carrot). It’s a vegetarian restaurant and they serve great food. I haven’t suddenly become a vegetarian; I just like the food better at this restaurant.
2:30pm – Meet in the Zócalo (a central plaza) for conversation class. I spend two hours with my guia (guide) seeing the sights within walking distance, talking about whatever I want, all in Spanish, por supuesto (of course).
6:30pm – Walk home.

Thursday, during my clase de conversación, my guia quoted a 17th century author to me.
Yo no leo para saber mas.
Yo leo para ignorar menos.
I don’t read to know more.
I read to ignore less.

Like many Americans, I have grown up in a society that ignores a lot of things, mostly because some things seem easier to ignore than to fix. When I first decided to come to Puebla, my primary reason was to learn the language. Being able to speak Spanish, on at least a conversational level, will certainly help me in my job as school counselor. I will be better equipped to work with students and families that have limited English skills. Spanish will allow me to do my job more effectively, reaching a greater portion of the Wendell students.

Secondarily, I came to learn the culture. Having a better understanding of Hispanic culture will give me more insight into student behavior and motivation. Again, Spanish will allow me to be more effective as a counselor.

Since being here, I have changed my primary motivation. Of course I want to learn the language, the culture, the traditions, the history. But more primarily, I need to discover what I have been ignoring. If I truly want to reach all students, I cannot ignore any of them.

I understand Anglo history, traditions, and culture. I grew up in the midst of that culture. My background as a white male gives me a unique perspective to help young white males. However, they are only a small percentage of my students. I also need to understand white female students, Hispanic males and females, Christians, Mormons, Catholics, poor students, rich students, etc.

Everyone has a culture and everyone is part of multiple cultures. I obviously cannot intimately know every culture. But, if I can increase my awareness of and sensitivity to other cultures, I increase my ability to help students, families, teachers, principals, community members – I increase my effectiveness as a counselor.

I’m also discovering that I’m not a very adventurous person. I like routine and familiarity. I like to explore, experience new things, but I’m not very brave. Many of the students go out at night, to experience the Puebla nightlife: bars, discothèques, billiard halls, etc. I’m pretty content just being at home with my Poblano family. I’m probably missing things that might be fun, but I don’t think I’m missing anything essential.
As for travel, the weekend was great. We visited Teotihuacan and Chapultepec en Ciudad de México. Although it was a very long day, leaving the house at 7:00am, and getting home about 9:30pm, it was worth the time, and the miles and miles we walked. I feel like I walked 50 miles.

As soon as we got off the bus, the vendors swarmed around us like vultures. Some of the things they were selling were really beautiful, but I wasn’t about to carry around a marble statue all day. Their favorite phrase was, “Amigo, almost free.” I responded with, “Lo siento, me gusta solo cosas muy caro.” If my Spanish is correct, I told them, “I’m sorry, I only like really expensive things.” Only one vendor found the humor in that. A trinket that had just been 10 pesos, he offered to sell me for $1,000. We both laughed.

I got to climb three pyramids, including the Pyramid of the Sun and the Pyramid of the Moon. It was quite an experience to be someplace, walking the same streets, climbing the same stairs, touching the same rocks, as people did thousands of years ago. It also amazed me that men could build such structures so long ago. The Pyramid of the Sun is the third largest pyramid in the world, behind the two largest pyramids in Egypt.

When I was on top of the Pyramid of the Moon, I stopped to look around the whole landscape. I thought to myself, “Almost 2000 years ago, there was a man my age standing right here, looking at basically the same landscape. There wasn’t a city back then, but the mountains and sky and trees and these pyramids, were all about the same.”

Chapultepec is a huge park in the middle of México City, a lot like Central Park in New York. We toured a museum that overlooks the city. Over the history of México, the castle was used as a school, a government building, a palace for the French ruler, and some other things. The museum is amazing, but no photos were allowed inside.

We had a hard time getting to the park because of the traffic. On the way to Teotihaucan, there was hardly any traffic. Everyone was getting ready for México’s fútbol match. On the way to central México City, everyone was on the street celebrating México’s win. It was quite a spectacle: flags everywhere, people hanging out of car windows, waving flags, honking, dancing in the street. I’m glad I got witness it.

Lastly, we went downtown to visit the Zócalo, which is not nearly as beautiful as the Zócalo in Puebla. It was full of people, and I mean full. Thousands were there watching a replay of the soccer game on a huge screen set up in front of the cathedral, selling their wares, eating, dancing, singing, etc.

I’m looking forward to my last two weeks here in Puebla. What new words and phrases will I learn? What new people will I meet? What will I learn about myself that I never knew before?

For photos of my trip, you can visit my blog:
http://pueblabound.blogspot.com

Until next time, Adios from Puebla.

Gooding County Leader June 2

2006-06-27T06:45:00.000-06:00

Gooding County Leader 2-Jun-06

How do I begin to sum up the changes I’ve experienced in the last week? There are so many it might be easier to list the things that are the same between life in Twin Falls & Wendell, Idaho, USA, and life in Puebla, Puebla, México. First, let me try to list some of the changes: time zone, country, city, elevation, climate, house, language, culture, architecture, security, occupation (student not counselor), schedule, food, beverages, communication (no cell phone), exercise, noises, smells, friends, pets, peers, family … is there anything left to change?

Some changes are bigger and more obvious than others. Changing languages is why I came here, and I knew when I got on the plane that I would be landing somewhere else. Other changes seemed subtle, but have turned out to be more profound than I first thought. For example, in Twin Falls I live in a moderately sized one-story house, with a large lawn, automatic sprinklers, garage door opener, air conditioning, etc. Here in Puebla, I’m living in a fairly small two-story house, where the closest neighbor is on the other side of the bedroom wall, no yard, and no air conditioning (luckily it has been very pleasant so far).

Several months ago I left my front door unlocked for at least a week. I’m not sure how long exactly because I don’t remember when I unlocked it. Although I try to lock my doors, I’m never really worried about anyone breaking in. Here in Puebla, my house is surrounded by 8 foot tall walls. On top of the walls are 6 foot tall chain-link fences, and on top of that barbed wire. All the windows have bars and all exterior doors have heavy-duty locks. Obviously, security is a huge priority here.

In Idaho I live alone, with my dog. Here in Puebla I’m living with a family of four – who, remember, don’t speak my language – and a live-in maid. Juan and Leticia have three children, Laura (who is married and lives nearby), Juan and Andrea. The criada (maid) is Cleo. She comes from a family of campesinos. She came to the city from a small village where there are no job opportunities. I haven’t asked, but I’m sure that her salary is helping support her family. I’ve also met Tia (aunt) and Abuelita (grandma), and Katia, Juan Jrs girlfriend.

I’ve lived alone for a long time. To go from living alone to living with a whole family has been an adjustment. I must say that the family has been so gracious allowing me my space. If my door is closed, they don’t bother me.

As far as dogs are concerned, here in Puebla they either live on the street, or on the roof, for security. It was chistoso the first time I saw two German Shepherds barking from a roof top. I’m sure people wondered why I was laughing.

Much of the Spanish I’ve learned has come from sitting around the kitchen table with my new family, eating or not, and talking about everything. I ask them about México, they ask me about Idaho, and we generally communicate very well. Two phrases have become a standard part of my vocabulary. No entiendo, and Mas despacio, por favor: I don’t understand, and Speak more slowly, please. My family is very patient.

In Twin Falls it takes me 30 minutes to drive 25 miles to school in Wendell. I would guess that in that distance I encounter several hundred cars on the road. Here in Puebla it takes me 45 minutes to walk to school. In those 3 miles, I encounter several thousand cars. In Idaho I work in a city of under 2500. Puebla is the fourth largest city in México, with about 5,000,000 (I’ve heard many different estimates, so I don’t think anyone knows for sure).

One of the things that has struck me is the architecture. Although construction on buildings and roads is continual (something México and Idaho have in common), there are so many old buildings. I don’t mean old like built in 1910. I mean old like built in 1610. The city of Puebla recently celebrated its 475th anniversary. The only thing in Idaho that old is the Snake River Canyon.

On the first of our planned excursions we visited two churches: San Francisco Acatepec and Santa María Tonantzintla, dating back to the 18th and 16th centuries. I was amazed to see the inside of these churches literally covered in gold and gold leaf. Although there are gates, there are no security guards keeping watch over all that wealth. The people have such a deep respect and reverence. Despite the incredible poverty surrounding these churches, robbing from the church is not even a question. However, at the bank in the grocery store there is often a security guard, complete with bullet-proof vest and shotgun.

The people around San Francisco Acatepec work in the church. They are elected for one year of service. During that year they receive no salary and work 10 hours a day cleaning, restoring, repairing and maintaining the church. They live on whatever the community and visitors donate.

We also visited Cholula, and the Temanapa Pyramid, which has the largest base in the world. Although Temanapa is only 190 feet high, the base is twice the size of the Cheops pyramid in Egypt. Pyramids in México were built as temples, not as tombs like in Egypt. Temanapa is honey-combed with tunnels: for walking, as air ducts, and as aqueducts. As part of our tour we got to walk through several hundred yards of the tunnels. It was an amazing experience to walk the same tunnels that people did thousands of years ago.

During my time here in Puebla, I have three goals: learn the language, learn the culture, and discover what I need to take back to Wendell to be a better counselor for all my students and their families. I’m learning the language, poco a poco, paso a paso (little by little, step by step). I’m learning the culture simply by involving myself in the vida cotidiana (daily life) of Puebla.

As far as what I’m to bring back, I’m getting small glimpses. For example, despite all the changes I’ve experienced, there are similarities. People here are the same as people in Idaho. They work, they play, they love their families, they are kind to strangers who travel thousands of miles and ask to live in their house and eat their food. People here walk through the park holding hands, talking with friends, chatting on their cell phones, watching fútbol, listening to their IPods, eating at their favorite café, and laughing with each other. Children here go to school, play games, beg their mom for cookies in the grocery store, and have smiles that light up their face, just like all my kids in Wendell. By the way, all you students in Wendell – I miss you.

So what did I learn from my first week in Puebla?

No matter where I go, everything changes, everything stays the same.

For photos of my trip, you can visit my blog:
http://pueblabound.blogspot.com

Until next time, Adios from Puebla.

Last Post from Puebla

2006-06-27T06:43:00.000-06:00

Friday night I had my final dinner with mi familia. We went for tacos, which were great, at a nearby restaurant. One of the differences I’m not sure I could get used to, is how late people eat here. At home, I don’t very often eat after 7:00pm. Here in Puebla, it is common to eat cena at 11:00. At the restaurant last night, I was surprised how many young children there were. Of course it was Friday night, but other nights would be similar. I’m guessing because I didn’t often stay up that late. My body clock works much earlier.

This morning I sit at the kitchen table with mi mamá. I wish I knew what kind of impression I really made on this family. I think they think I didn’t enjoy myself.

I decided to stay only one month, when originally I intended to stay two months.

I didn’t stay up late with them every night, talking around the table.

My schedule just works better “Early to bed, early to rise.”

Evenings and weekends, I would go into my room and shut the door, rather than socialize with them.

I found myself needing quiet, alone time, alone with my thoughts in English

I needed time to study also, but I didn’t study as often as they thought I was studying. Sometimes I was just playing games on my computer and listening to music.

I didn’t often eat much here at the house. Mamá thinks it’s because I didn’t like her food.

Although I never had any serious stomach problems, tocar en madera, I often had a slightly upset stomach.

I had to work hard to convince the family that I enjoyed my time with them. I discovered that my serious personality often comes across as dissatisfied or unhappy. Even when I’m happy, I guess I don’t look or act happy. I’m going to have to work on that. When I feel happy, I need to make sure my outside shows that feeling.

This morning, Tio, who I don’t think is any actual relation, came over for some business negotiations. Juan chiquito, sells perfume to make some money while he’s in school. I don’t understand everything, por supuesto, but I understand enough to make listening in on the conversation very fun. They are discussing how much the perfumes will cost Juan, and how much he can sell them for. Mamá y Papá, are paying for the perfume now, so they are actively involved in the negotiations. The whole process seems fun and serious at the same time. I can tell, or at least I perceive, that they are trying to stay informal and relaxed while trying to make sure they each get the best possible deal.

In less than an hour, I will be heading to the bus station. Two and a half hours later, I will be in México City, ready to head home. My flight home isn’t until almost 5:00, but I’m the kind of person who likes to be early to the airport. You never know when there might be problems, especially driving through México City and checking in for an international flight. I’m sure that everything will go smoothly, but I would rather wait close to the gate, then here in Puebla. Mamá thinks it’s because I don’t want to spend anymore time with the family. There might be some truth in that, but not because of the family. I’m just really ready to go home.

Last night I was talking about returning to Idaho. Juan said, “You’re not returning home to Idaho. You’re going to the United States for a vacation; this is your home.” I’ve enjoyed my time here, and have so much appreciated the family. But, I’m not ready to make this my home. I will say I know for sure that I could come back anytime and be welcomed. Maybe that means this is another home. Home is just a place where a person feels welcomed and wanted. If that’s true, I have homes in a lot of places: Twin Falls, Nampa, Puebla, Hillsboro, Portland, Richland, Phoenix.

What a lucky person I am to have homes in so many places I can call home.

PPP: Purely Photographical Post

2006-06-19T16:08:00.000-06:00

This post is mostly animals (including insects and reptiles).

This first photo is of a small pyramid at Cacaxtla, a site covered by one of the largest archeological roofs in the world. It might be the biggest, but I can't remember.

We found this lizard laying her eggs. She wasn't very happy I got so close, and right after I snapped this photo, she jumped up and bit the camera. I was lucky she didn't bite off my finger. Her teeth were surprisingly large. For a two foot long lizard, she was really mean.

Okay, I'm kidding. Obviously she was laying eggs, but she was only about 6 inches long. And, while we were watching, she didn't move at all. I'm sure she thought that if she laid still, we wouldn't see her and just go away.

How many dogs have you seen on top of a 2000 year old pyramid? This dog wasn't very happy with me taking his photo, and right after I took the picture he lunged at the camera, teeth bared. I was lucky he didn't bite off my arm.

Did you believe me twice in a row?

Just some red ants, no biting, no growling, no visible egg laying, nothing special, but I like the photo.

His Bark is Worse than His Bite

2006-06-19T11:04:00.000-06:00

I always thought that saying meant that someone was all show, but no teeth behind the threat.

Last night, I discovered the true meaning. One of the neighbor dogs barked non-stop from 8:00pm until midnight. When I say non-stop, I mean there was no more than a 30 second pause during that entire time. I have no idea what he was barking at. I have no idea why he stopped.

But, I would rather have been bitten by him than listen to the incessant noise for four hours.

He must have finally quieted down, but about every hour or so he would bark non-stop for 5-10 minutes. I love dogs, but it's a good thing I didn't have a gun last night.

Just a short rant. You may disregard.

Last week in Puebla

2006-06-19T07:40:00.000-06:00

Friday, June 16, 2006

Since I’m in my last week here in Puebla, I thought I would write about missing things.

First, things I miss about home:

I miss the quiet of living in a house by myself.

I miss my dog.

I miss knowing that my parents are just a phone call away and my sister, and her family, is just a couple of hours away.

I miss ice. Although the restaurant I eat lunch at has purified drinking water, I’m not sure about the ice, so I just avoid it.

I miss my king-size pillow and my body pillow, actually just my bed in general. Not that the bed here is uncomfortable, but it’s a twin and it’s not mine.

I miss my cell phone. I don’t use it very often, but it is nice to have available. Phone calls here in Puebla are expensive, local or long distance.

Thing I won’t miss about Puebla:

I won’t miss the rooster that wakes up at 4:30am, almost like clockwork. “Hey, stupid rooster, the sun isn’t up yet. Didn’t they teach you that in rooster school?”

I won’t miss the stupid dog that either lives with the rooster or right next door. He barks for no apparent reason, as if he’s being tortured for 30 seconds, then suddenly stops.

I won’t miss the extreme poverty here, the people – families, parents, children – who live with nothing. I also won’t forget them.

I won’t miss the constant (which here means all the time for no apparent reason) honking. Let me give you a few examples. Even though I walk to school everyday, I think I’ve learned how to drive in Puebla.
Rule #1: Say you are the 10th car in line, waiting at a red light. When the light turns green, if the car in front of you doesn’t immediately make some sort of movement, you must honk. Presumably because none of the cars in front of you know the light turned green.

Rule #2: If there is nowhere for anyone to go (again because the light is red or everyone is stopped because there is no place to go), you must honk. I’m not sure why, but it’s necessary.

Rule #3: When you drive through a green light, if there is a car waiting at the red light the opposite direction, you must honk before proceeding through your green light. I guess this is to say, “You have a red light, I’m moving very quickly, don’t pull out in front of me.” They might not see the other car barreling down the road, but they will surely hear the honk.

Rule #4: If the car in front of you is driving more slowly than you think they should be driving, or is not driving the way you think they should, you honk.

Rule #5: If you are upset about anything other than driving, you may honk. Yesterday, on the way to lunch, cars were backed up. Everything was at a standstill. In this one intersection, with cars going both directions (two one-way streets) there were probably 40 cars. One woman started honking. This was not a toot-your-horn kind of honk. She laid on the horn for a good 30 seconds. Why? I have no idea. This is why Rule #5 was created. Just for people like her. Did it help for her to honk? Obviously not because no one could move.

One additional Rule, concerning red lights: red lights don’t really mean anything. If no one is coming, or if you think you have plenty of room, just go through the intersection.

Okay, one more rule concerning lanes. If a road has two lanes, but there is enough room to fit 4 cars side by side, the cars in the second row must fill the spaces, thereby temporarily creating 4 lanes. If the cars in the second row do not fill in, see Rule #4.

I won’t miss being surrounded by 5,000,000 people (or 3 million or 4 million, is just depends on who you ask; each person I asked said, “I’m sure there’s X million.”)

Things I will miss about Puebla:

I will miss being able to visit buildings from 1500, or churches built in 1650, or office buildings that have been around for 300 years.

I will miss having a tienda (little store) on every corner. When I walk to school I pass 7 OXXOs, they’re kind of like 7-11 or Maverick, just smaller. There is always one close.

I will miss having my laundry done for about $5.00 a week. If I could find someone at home to wash, dry and fold my laundry for $5.00/week, I would probably use the service.

I will miss being able to greet women – old abuelas, young ninas, mujeres in between – with a kiss on the cheek. I think it is a very kind thing to do, a very warm gesture.

I will miss seeing students in their school uniforms. They all look so nice. American schools could benefit from school uniforms. (If any of my Wendell students are reading this, don’t worry. You won’t be wearing uniforms any time soon.)

I will especially miss my family. Juan Jr. had the opportunity to take a job, three hours to the north of Puebla. He asked my opinion about what he should do. I was so touched that the family would include me in an important decision like that. Juan is 23 years old and a little tired of living at home. On the other hand, he is trying to finish his English education, having only two more months. We talked about the importance of education, the importance of family, the importance of independence, the importance (and likelihood) of future opportunities.

Being here in Puebla has taught me to appreciate so much that I have.

I appreciate my independence. I have a car; I can go where I want, when I want.

I appreciate being able to turn on the faucet and know that the water is safe to drink.

I appreciate the safety of my neighborhood. I don’t have to surround myself with 10 foot high walls. I don’t have to have bars on my windows and a watch dog on my roof. I can walk around town at midnight and know that I’m safe.

I appreciate that the police in my town are there to protect me, not take advantage of me. I have talked to many different people about the police here in México. Everybody gives me the same response. “The police are corrupt. I don’t trust them, no one does.” If any police officers in America are reading this, Thank you. You do a great job and are not thanked often enough for the risk you take to protect citizens like me. I promise that the next time I get pulled over (which I hope is never) I will thank you.

I appreciate the quiet of rural Idaho.

I appreciate the wide open spaces of rural Idaho.

I appreciate the hugs I get everyday at school. People down here greet each other with a kiss on the cheek, which I really like, but it’s not the same as a hug from a kid.

I appreciate not having to stand on a street corner all day, trying to sell newspapers or trinkets or flowers or vegetables, while around me cars (with the obligatory pollution) speed by trying not to notice me. I appreciate not having to hope someone will let me wash their windshield or help them back out of a parking space in exchange for a few pennies.

I appreciate being a wealthy American. I know that by American standards I am not rich, I’m probably lower middle class. But after seeing the way people live here, I am so rich.

I appreciate being able to communicate clearly.

I have actually heard Americans say, after talking with a Méxican, or trying to communicate with someone who has limited English skills, “Why don’t they just learn English. This is America. They should learn English.”

The problem is, Americans don’t want Méxicans to learn English, we want them to KNOW English, right now. I think back to when I learned English.

For the first two years of my English education, I was exposed to the language 12-18 hours per day. I was not required to respond with sentences or words. In fact, I was not required to respond with anything more than a hand gesture or a loud cry. My teachers simply allowed me to listen to the language, learning the sounds, the rhythm and the patterns of the language.

For the next two years, I began using simple words and short phrases. “Me want cookie.” “I do it.” Nobody laughed at my inability to use the language properly, nobody got frustrated when I was unable to communicate my intentions or needs. My teachers simply corrected my usage, very kindly and gently. “Say, ‘I would like a cookie please.’”

Not until my fifth year of being immersed in English did I begin a formal education. After five years of listening to and using the language I finally learned the alphabet, colors, numbers, how to spell and write my name.

After seven years of immersion, I was finally conversational in English. Think about any 7 year old you know. They can carry on a conversation, even with an adult. Would you call them fluent in English? Maybe. Every single person reading these words right now, took at least 7 years to learn English, to become fluent in the language. Give Spanish speakers at least that long to learn their second language.

The next time you find yourself frustrated at someone because they can’t speak English, stop to think about how long they’ve had to learn the language. It is a widely accepted fact that children learn languages faster than adults. If you are attempting to communicate with someone who has been in this country 5 years or less, remember, as far as the English language is concerned, they’re like pre-school students. Have some patience with them. Don’t laugh at them, don’t get frustrated, try to help them.

Most of my Spanish is in the present tense. I haven’t yet mastered past tense (in Spanish there are two past tenses, unlike English). If I want to say, “Yesterday I ate lunch in the restaurant then went to the museum.” I have to say, “Yesterday, I go to the restaurant, then I go to the museum.” Before I leave we will learn how to conjugate verbs in the past tense, but just because I learn it in class doesn’t mean I can use it. I’m sure to Spanish speakers I sound juvenile. I am. In the Spanish language, I’m like a 4 year old (and that’s being optimistic).

Never again will I get impatient when a parent comes into the school office. I will attempt to communicate with them, in English and Spanish, knowing that if we both try, we can communicate meaning, even if we don’t use the right words.

Teotihuacan, some photos

2006-06-13T09:34:00.000-06:00

Old Mexico City and Modern Mexico City

Pyramid of the Moon (piramide de la luna)

Detail of a 2000 year old pyramid

The Pyramid of the Sun (piramide del sol)

Another fun weekend

2006-06-12T07:23:00.000-06:00

Sunday, June 11, 2006

I discovered something else about myself. I come across as a serious person, which I know that I am. My mamá and I were talking at the kitchen table. She thought I didn’t like the family. She thought maybe I was angry about the family or the house or something. I think she also had that thought because I changed from staying eight weeks to only staying four weeks.

I assured her that, “No, I’m not angry. I am a serious person most of the time. Plus, I’ve lived alone for a long time. I’ve gotten very used to a lot of time by myself. It’s been an adjustment to be in a house with a whole family.”

She understands. They have been so respectful of my privacy, never disturbing me when I need to be alone, while making sure to take care of my needs.

When I told her I lived alone, she asked, “Who cleans your house?” I do. “Who cooks?” I do.

“You’ll make some muchacha a great husband.” We both laughed.

Okay, you’re probably going to laugh at me, but I was listening to Christmas music today. Now before you fall out of your chair making fun of me, Christmas music and classical are all I have on my laptop. I needed some English, so it was Christmas music. There aren’t many words in Mozart’s symphonies.

There are several songs that I really like, but this one seemed appropriate somehow. I’ve never really listened to the words of this song, except for the very last verse.

Are you far away from home
This dark and lonely night
Tell me what best would help
To ease your mind
Someone to give direction for
This unfamiliar road
Or one who says follow me
And I will lead you home

How beautiful, how precious
The savior ?
To love so completely
The loneliest soul
How gently, how tenderly
He says to one and all
Child you can follow me
And I will lead you home
Trust me and follow me
And I will lead you home

Be near me Lord Jesus
I ask thee to stay
Close by me forever
And love me I pray
Bless all the dear children
In thy tender care
And take us to heaven
To live with thee there

Take us to heaven
To live with thee there

While I’m listening, it’s actually afternoon, and I’m not lonely. Instead I’m craving some time alone in my house, just me and my dog. But the sentiment is nice.

I’m here in Puebla because I felt God leading me here. There were many obstacles, but He cleared them all.
“God, there’s no way I can afford this.”
     That’s okay. I’ll provide you with friends and family to help out.
“What will I do with my dog?”
     Ask Will and Vivian. They’ll say, ‘Yes.’”
“I don’t know what to do about my house.”
     Did you forget about Dean and Mary, right across the street?
“Yes, I remember them. But what about my lawn?”
     Talk to Donna, she’ll know somebody.
“I’m not sure I can be away that long. I am a rules official during the summer.”
     Vicky will pretend to be mad, but she’ll support you. I’ll take care of her.
“I’m very used to living alone. I’m not sure about living with a family all that time.”
     You’ll be fine. Trust me.
“Are you sure I can learn another language. I’m not a kid anymore.”
     You’ll be fine. Trust me.
“What if I get sick? Wait, I know. I’ll be fine. Trust you.”
     You’ll be fine. Trust me.

So I did, I am, I will continue to.

It’s an interesting adventure. I thought I had prepared myself for what to expect. My expectations were very close to reality. Reality has turned out to be better, like it usually does. Often in my life I have told God what I needed, and how I thought would be the best way to handle the situation. He doesn’t very often follow my advice. Can you imagine that?

He does seem to know what He’s doing, so far. I keep trying to give Him hints and clues though. Someday, in Heaven, I’ll ask Him to explain himself.

“I realize everthing turned out fine, but are you sure I wouldn’t have been better off as a multi-millionaire, or a star professional athlete?”
     You were fine. You trusted me.

My new favorite word

2006-06-09T07:04:00.000-06:00

My new favorite word: estadonidense.

I can’t just say I’m an American, that includes everyone in North and South America.

I can’t just say I’m North American, that also includes everyone in Canada.

I can’t just say I live in the United States. México, is officially the Estados Unidos de México (the United States of México). (If I’m wrong about that, feel free to let me know.)

So, the Spanish word for where I live is: estadonidense.

Spanish is an interesting language, becoming increasingly more interesting the more I learn.

For example, in English we say things like:
I’m hungry
I’m cold
I’m thirsty
I’m 39 years old

These things don’t really describe who or what we ARE.

In Spanish, we say things like:
Tengo hambre          I have hunger
Tengo frio          I have coldness
Tengo sed          I have thirst
Tengo 39 años          I have 39 years

In this area, Spanish seems to make a lot more sense.

One of the things I’ve noticed in the last few years is how people answer questions. Ask someone, “What do you do for a living?” Hardly anybody answers with what they DO. Most typically they answer the question trying to define who they are. “I’m a counselor. I’m a teacher. I’m a realtor. I’m a banker.”

I didn’t ask what you are, I asked what you do. I sometimes think that we Americans (meaning estadonidenses) define ourselves too much by our work, either vocation or avocation.

What am I? Who am I?
I am a counselor, a brother, a son, an uncle, a student, a teacher, a reader, a writer, a pet owner, a citizen, a traveler.

What do I do for a living? I work in a school. I am employed by a school district to fill a certain position, performing certain duties. What I do, however, does not define who I am.

On the contrary, I think who I am defines what I do. I am a good listener, therefore I chose to find a position that allows me to listen to kids, parents, teachers, staff. I am a good problem solver, therefore I searched for a situation that allows me to use that skill to help other people. I am a writer (or at least I think so), therefore I find outlets for that creative need: blog, newspaper, letters, poetry.

I am an uncle, therefore I make sure my niece and nephew know that I love them very much. I’m a brother and son, so I make sure I do my best to fulfill that role for my sister, my brother-in-law, and my parents. I also use my role as a family member to model for others (most specifically the students in my schools) what it means to be a good family member. I’m a good friend, therefore I find ways to model what it means to be a good friend.

This trip to Puebla is clearing away some of the clouds that have prevented me from getting a clear picture of who I am, what I am, what I do.

An Anthropological History of Puebla

2006-06-08T16:36:00.000-06:00

Okay, I’m not really going to give you an anthropological history of Puebla.
I, however, did receive one today.

If you remember, I spend two hours each afternoon with my guia. We can go anywhere we want, and talk about whatever. My guia this week is David, who is studying anthropology at the university here – urban anthropology to be specific. Today, rather than walk around, I asked David to tell me about Puebla.

He gave me a complete, albeit brief, history of the state and the city. Keep in mind, this is all in Spanish. Obviously my Spanish skills have improved, but I was also able to understand because David is very good at finding other ways to explain words I don’t know.

At one point a stranger (and by stranger I mean two things: 1- someone neither of us knew, 2- someone more strange than me or David) joined our conversation. He spoke very rapidly, apparently assuming that I am fluent in Spanish, which I am not.

I did however catch parts of his talk. He moved very quickly from Indians in America scalping homesteaders, to atomic bombs in New York, and Los Angeles. I’m a little fuzzy about the connection between the two.

David, however, was very coherent. He actually made me feel a little stupid. If he had asked me for a history of the US, I know for a fact that I could not have given as complete a history.

“Well, back about 200 years ago, some people were mad at England, they sailed across the ocean and landed in Boston, home of the Red Sox, where they eventually opened up coffee shops – called Starbucks – that have spread across the entire world. That’s really about it. Oh, and once a year we shoot off fireworks to celebrate the day all the tea was thrown overboard (hence, Starbucks), and Benjamin Franklin was electrocuted by a lightning storm.”

I’m amazed that I was able to not only understand, but also ask questions and converse with him. I have discovered that I understand a lot more than I can speak. My recall of vocabulary is very limited; I have a hard time finding the right word. My comprehension is much better. Even if I don’t understand all the words, I’m able to grasp the meaning.

The most interesting part of the afternoon came right at the very end of the afternoon, after we had stopped at the local OXXO (convenience store) to pick up some drinks. I bought the drinks because I found out that David gets paid 40 pesos for the two hours we spend together. At the current exchange rate that is about $3.65. But I digress …

The most interesting part of the afternoon came right at the very end of the afternoon. A 17th century Spanish writer said,

Yo no leo para saber mas.
Yo leo para ignorar menos.

I don’t read to know more.
I read to ignore less.

I think I might have found my motto, my reason for coming here to Puebla in the first place.

I’m not learning Spanish to know more.
I’m learning Spanish to ignore less.
I’m learning Spanish so I don’t ignore the Latino students and families in my school.
I’m learning Spanish so I don’t ignore their culture, their traditions, their history, their language.
I don’t want to ignore their experience.

After I made the decision to stay only four weeks instead of eight (which I’m sure is the right decision because I have felt so relaxed since I decided), I discovered what I think is the reason I did not want to stay eight weeks.

I miss American food, but that is not the main reason.
I miss my house and my bed, but that’s not it either.
I miss my car and my independence – nope, not it either.
I miss my native language, but that’s not it because I really do enjoy Spanish.

I miss small town America. Going from Twin Falls & Wendell to a city of 3-5 million people has been the hardest change.

This implies that I might be feeling the same way had I attended a Spanish immersion program in New York, or Los Angeles, or Chicago, or Dallas.

I miss being able to drive 20 minutes to find a place where there are no buildings. Here in Puebla, I would have to drive for several hours to get out of the city.

I miss seeing green lawns, and big trees, and new flowers. That has been the biggest change, the hardest change. When I come back to Idaho, to my place, I will view things much differently.

Yo no leo para saber mas.
Yo leo para ignorar menos.

I hope I never ignore something or someone simply because I’m unwilling to change.

Decision Made

2006-06-06T07:41:00.000-06:00

I know that some of you who read this blog (Mom and Vicky) were really hoping I would decide on four weeks instead of eight. I've had other people write and tell me they hoped I would stay eight weeks.

All day yesterday, the decision was on my mind. Stay, go. All I was missing was the daisy to pull off the petals with each choice.

"I should stay, I should go, I should stay, I should go."

I trusted God that coming here was the right decision. I definitely think it was.
I trusted God when I felt like I needed to change from 8 weeks to 4.

This morning I changed the flight reservation. I will be coming home June 24.

Mom and dad, I'll be coming in on the same flight number, same flight time, just differnt day.

Vicky, I was thinking that since you weren't planning on having me around for tournaments, I might as well just take the summer off and not work even though I'm home.

Just kidding, I'll be working. Go ahead, you can cheer now.

Visit to Mercado Zapata

2006-06-05T07:30:00.000-06:00

Visit to the Mercado Zapata

Sunday, June 04, 2006

This afternoon we visited Mercado Zapata. I wish I had taken my camera. The sights were incredible. First we stopped to buy carne. The butchers work right there in front of you. You tell them what you want, they cut it off the pieces of beef that are hanging there (no refrigeration), trim the fat off and package it up.

Freshly killed chickens are hanging from the booth just a few feet away, feathers still around their head. Several months ago my mom and I struggled to figure out how to cut a whole chicken and save the wishbone. These guys use these huge scissors and can cut a chicken into breasts, legs, wings, etc., all in about one minute. It was so cool to watch.

Next we went to Leticia’s favorite vegetable stand. We bought chiles poblanos, papas (potatoes), jitomates (tomatoes), cebollas (onions), tomate verde (look like tomatillos to me), and ejotes (green beans). Then we went to the fruit stand and bought papaya, melon (cantaloupe), mango, and plátanas (bananas).

The whole experience was fun. The people, the sounds, the sights, the smells, the colors, everything.

Mamá said we could go back again another weekend. Then I can take some photos.

BTW, I’ve been thinking and praying all day about going home after four weeks instead of staying for eight. It really seems like the right decision, at least right now. Those of you who read this blog, please pray that the right decision will be clear. I don’t want to decide to go home early, and then regret having left. I also don’t want to stay too long, and regret not being able to go home. I hope to decide for sure this week.

Decision Making

2006-06-05T07:29:00.000-06:00

Decision Making

Sunday, June 04, 2006

I don’t know why, but the last two days I’ve been feeling like 8 weeks is too long. Maybe it is just the overwhelming amount of change in the first week. I’m not sure. I do know that I keep thinking and praying about this, looking at the calendar, wondering if a refund is a problem, how much will it cost to change the return flight? Etc.

This morning, while creating my counseling calendar for next year, I decided, “Yes, I’m only staying four weeks instead of eight. Tomorrow I’ll contact the airline to make sure I can change the flight, and talk to Antonio (the institute director) about a refund for the other four weeks.”

Now I don’t know if that will be the final decision. I don’t have to decide right now. But, just making that decision in my head seems to have helped a little. Maybe two months was over-ambitious for my first immersion experience. There are Catholic priests (and seminary students) here studying for 5 months. I’m not sure I could do that.

Today, I’m missing home and my regular routine. I know that summer changes things – I don’t go to school everyday. But there is definitely something about sleeping in my own bed, hearing familiar sounds, working in my yard, everything I do normally. Maybe I’m not cut out for big changes, at least not all at once.

I’ll let you know what I find out, what I decide, and what happens

Outgoing Introvert

2006-06-05T07:27:00.001-06:00

Outgoing Introvert

Saturday, June 03, 2006

It seems as if I’m discovering new things about myself all the time, things about my personality that I may have known, but didn’t realize were so important.

People can be divided into two classes: introverts and extroverts (obviously, generalizations). The definition I like for the difference between the two is based on energy exertion and energy restoration.

An extrovert expends energy being alone. S/he gains energy from interaction with other people. If an extrovert is alone too long, it becomes necessary to interact with people: chatting at a café, drinking coffee, at a party, around the dinner table, etc. Extroverts need personal interaction to keep them energized.

An introvert is just the opposite. S/he gains energy from being alone, and expends energy during social interaction. If an introvert is around people too long, it becomes necessary to have some alone time. Introverts need time with little or no social interaction to keep them energized.

It is not that extroverts dislike being alone or don’t need alone time. Likewise, introverts don’t dislike interaction. Personality determines enjoyment; energy status determines length of enjoyment. I consider myself an outgoing introvert. I love being around people, especially kids. However, there comes a time when I’ve had enough social interaction and I need some time alone to recharge.

I’m finding that here in Puebla, that “recharge-necessary” point comes sooner. My family here is great, but I think Mexicans as a whole (don’t get upset at my generalization) are an extroverted people. For example, yesterday was Juan’s birthday. Dinner with the family was great, the conversation was fun, the food was wonderful. About 9:00, I came upstairs to go to bed, needing to recharge. I woke up at 1:00 in the morning and realized they were still downstairs talking (not loud enough to wake me up – I think that was courtesy of the dog next door). I think they could talk all night – extroverts.

I haven’t yet explained the whole introvert-extrovert thing to them. Mamá asked me one day, “How come you go to bed so early?” This was after about the third day, when I was still acclimating to the elevation and schedule change. At that point, I was just tired, or so I thought.

Now I’m realizing that my introverted personality played a part in that. Being around people drains energy; being around a new family, whom I’ve only known for a week, drains energy; doing all this in Spanish, drains more energy. I seem to reach my fill of social interaction sooner because of all those factors. At home in Twin Falls I have plenty of alone time. I don’t have to seek it out because it is always available when I get home. I don’t have to seek out social interaction because it is available everyday at school.

Today, I will try to explain introvertido y extrovertido, assuming my Spanish skills are sufficient. I’m sure that my new family will understand.

Travel Horror Story

2006-06-05T07:27:00.000-06:00

Travel Horror Story

Saturday, June 03, 2006

I’m including one story here that isn’t related to me per se, but is really interesting.

My parents were a little worried about me getting here safely. I told my dad, “Dad, I’m almost 40. I’ll be okay.” He laughed.

Tim, one of the students here, recently moved from Ohio to San Diego. He’s 19 years old. He purchased a ticket on Aero California, a Mexican airline, traveling from Tijuana to México City. You might be saying, “I’ve never heard of Aero California.” You might never hear of it. Read on.

Since Tim was new in San Diego, he didn’t have many friends yet, but managed to find someone to drop him off at the Tijuana airport. His flight was scheduled to leave at 11:45 am.

It turns out that Aero California has been buying old planes and using the parts to repair their planes, apparently a big no-no in the airline industry. The Mexican government had given them until 12:00 pm, the day of Tim’s flight, to fix all the planes with new parts. They were unable to comply. At about 1:00, the airport announces that ALL Aero California flights have been cancelled. Since they were unable to comply with the government order, the government shutdown the airline.

All this was announced in Spanish, it being the Tijuana airport. Tim, who was coming to Puebla to learn Spanish, did not yet speak any Spanish. When everybody left, he was a little confused. He was able to find an English-speaker to explain the situation to him.

Everybody went downstairs to the Aero California office. The people in the office, seeing so many unhappy passengers, and knowing they could do nothing, simply left. Turned off the lights, locked the office door, and left.

Long story short-ish, Aero México was honoring Aero California tickets, in certain cases. Passengers had to wait in line, tell their story, be approved, and were then sent to exchange tickets. Tim, being the resourceful young man he is, simply went to the second desk, skipping the first line altogether. “They told me to come here and exchange my tickets.” With so many passengers, his ploy worked. He did get to México City, about 10 hours later than expected.

His only problem now is that his return ticket is obviously worthless. He’s not yet sure what he’s going to do.

Mom and dad, my trip was just fine. No problems for me: the airline is still in business and I expect it to be when I come home.

Mi Familia de Puebla

2006-06-05T07:25:00.000-06:00

Mi Familia de Puebla

Friday, June 02, 2006

My mamá calls me many different things. She calls me Chris of course (which, in Spanish, sounds completely different), but also hijo, mijo, and joven: son, my son, and youngster. I have to laugh sometimes at all three because Leticia is only 4 years older than I. But, here in Puebla, she is my mamá. Don’t worry mom, you’re not being replaced; she’s only a temporary locational substitution.

With my increased vocabulary (I’m amazed at how much I’ve learned in just a week), I’ve learned more about the family. Juan is a university administrator (his birthday is today). He’s been at the university for a little more than a year. For 13 years before that, he was a hospital administrator. I’m not sure exactly what an administrator does, and my Spanish isn’t yet good enough to ask the right questions.

Leticia is a realtor, which is not exactly the same as a realtor in the states. In México, if you want to sell houses you don’t need a license. But, if I understood correctly, there are not exactly listings. The realtor (vendador de bienes raices) buys houses, does the basic repairs and painting, and sells them again. This morning she and I took Felix to go look at a house. I asked Leticia if most people own or rent homes. Here in Puebla the vast majority of people own homes, in part because the homes are very small. Most are condominiums, not separate homes like in small town Idaho.

The condo we looked at this morning I would guess to be about 600 or 700 square feet. It is selling for 200,000 pesos, or about $18,000. There are a lot of barrios (neighborhoods) of these style condos: a lot of people, packed into not much space. Even so, the kids still play, the parents still work and clean and cook, and neighbors get together to discuss the day’s events.

The house I’m living in cost 800,000 pesos, or about $73,000. When I told her that my house in Twin Falls cost $100,000 or 1.1 million pesos, she said, “¡Es muy grande!” I told her not really, but that’s all relative. For just one person, I guess my house is big. I did tell her that my yard is big, but I couldn’t figure out how to tell her – in Spanish – that it takes me an hour to mow my lawn.

Everywhere, and I mean everywhere, there are restaurants and cafés and pasterlerias. On my three mile walk to school I would guess that I pass at least 100 of these small, family-run, food-related businesses. It seems that everyone is selling something or providing some service. In that same three miles there are: 25 auto repair shops, 50 clothing stores, 50 jewelry stores, 100 candy stores, etc. On many corners, especially in my neighborhood, people sit on the sidewalk outside their house selling homemade food: tacos, gorditas, quesadillas, naranjada (orange juice). I know that conditions aren’t the most sanitary, but the food is really good. The other night for cena (late supper) we had tacos that were great.

Last night I was invited to go out with Juan Jr. and his friends. I passed. Although my Spanish is getting better, I’m not sure I’m ready for an evening with three young muchachos. Let me rephrase that, I’m definitely not ready for an evening like that, and probably will not ever be ready. I don’t go out at much at home, and certainly not with good looking young men who I’m sure are all very attractive to the muchachas. I’m more like their dad or uncle than a peer. I’ll leave the partying to them. It was nice of them just to invite me. Juan’s friends are both lawyers, just beginning their practice. They had fun practicing their English with me. I was told at the start of the program that we were supposed to speak only Spanish, and our families have been told to speak only Spanish. But, I enjoy helping them improve their English as they help me. Besides, sometimes my head is overwhelmed with all the Spanish and I just need to hear English for a little while.

Week One: A Success

2006-06-02T16:17:00.000-06:00

WOW!! All I can say is WOW!!

Five days in Puebla and I have survived. I don’t know how much Spanish I’ve learned, but I know for sure that I know more now than I did when I got here. My vocabulario is mas grande.

She may just be nice, but my guia (guide) said my Spanish has improved in just a few days. I hope it’s true.

I’ve played games – in Spanish – read the newspaper – in Spanish – visited museums, discussing the artifacts – in Spanish – talked with my family around the kitchen table – in Spanish – are you getting the picture?

I’m amazed myself at how much I understand, and how much I’m able to communicate.

Tonight, I’m poco cansado (a little tired) so I’m not going to write much. For now, I’ll just post a few photos.

Day Three: I'm finally feeling better

2006-06-01T16:29:00.000-06:00

I think the first few days were just a bit overwhelming. I'm getting into the swing of things, my body is acclimating to the elevation, and I finally have some extra energy. Last night, after visiting Cholula, I stayed up long enough to meet my new Tia (aunt) and abuelita (grandma). It was fun to sit around the table with the family, talking in Spanish, laughing in the universal language, and basically making new friends.

Cholula was very interesting. It is the largest pyramid in the world, not by height, but by the size of the base. We walked through several hundred meters of tunnels; there are thousands of meters of tunnels, and air ducts, and aqueducts built throughout the pyramid.

Yesterday also was the first day I went to school and home again by myself. The first two days mi mama rode with me in the combi (minivan/bus) to the school, and mi hermano Juan picked me up. The third day, I was on my own. The walk takes about 40 minutes. I’m guessing it’s about 3 miles, mas or menos. I walked around Cholula in the afternoon, and walked home again in the evening. Even so, I still had more energy last night than I did the previous nights.

On the way to the pyramid, we stopped first at San Francisco Acatepec, a church built in the 16th century. The inside is basically covered with gold leaf.

Next, we visited Santa Maria Tonantaintla. If I remember, it is from the 17th century. Again, the inside is decorated like nothing I’ve ever seen.

After we walked around Cholula, we all posed for a group picture. Omar, our guide, was kind enough to take a picture with every person’s camera.

New Sounds in Puebla

2006-05-31T07:40:00.000-06:00

This is the view outside my bedroom window, at night por supuesto (of course).

I'm getting used to the new sounds in Puebla.

Por ejemplo (for example):

At 4:30 each morning, a neighbor dog (sounds small and yippy) barks, howls, whines and cries for about 30 seconds. Then suddenly quits. I don't know what starts it; I don't know what ends it.

About 15 minutes later, the local rooster starts crowing. I have to say, he sounds pretty pathetic. Algunas veces (sometimes) his kiri-kiri-ki (Spanish for cockadoodledoo) sound impressive. But most of the time it sounds like he's confused, or he's forgotten the words, or he's just tired and doesn't really want to crow. His crowing, by the way, has nothing to do with the sun rising.

Sometime during the early morning hours, the same car alarm goes off - every morning. I now recognize the sound. Tomorrow morning, I'll be waiting for it.

In Puebla, honking is a mandatory skill if you want to be a driver. If you come to an intersection, with your light green and the other light red, you must honk. I think it is to let the other driver know, "I'm here, don't pull out." Also, if you come up behind another car, which is not necessarily in your way but might be if you swerve, you honk to make sure they don't back up.

I do find it very interesting that during the middle of the night - midnight to 2 or 3 - this city of over million gente (people) gets very quiet.

Today, Wednesday, we go to Cholula. It is an ancient pyramid, with the largest base in the world. Tomorrow, I'll upload some photos.

Keep praying for me.

Exciting Time in Puebla

2006-05-30T07:40:00.000-06:00

Although we are in the middle of a city with more than 1,000,000 people, I awoke to the sound of a rooster this morning: kiri kiri ki! I’ve been here in Puebla a little more than 24 hours, but I’m so tired I feel like I’ve been here a week. Part of my energy level is the result of a full day’s travel, part is because of Puebla’s elevation (over 7,000 feet). But mostly, my mind is tired from all the Español.

My host family has been very warm and accommodating. Leticia, my Méxican mama, told me, “Esta es tu casa” (This is your house). Juan Sr., Juan Jr., and Andrea (Andy) are also very patient. I also met Juan Jr’s girlfriend, Katia. I find myself using two phrases over and over: “Mas despacio, por favor” (speak more slowly please), and “No entiendo” (I don’t understand). Juan Jr. sat at the kitchen table with me for more than an hour answering all the questions I had and some questions I didn’t know to ask. He sometimes laughs at my pronunciation and accent. He is studying English at the university so he is struggling with English the same way I’m struggling with Spanish.

I am the twelfth student the Muñoz family has hosted. I think they are more confident than I am that my Spanish will improve.

Leticia (Mama), Juan Jr., Katia

We started the day at the Spanish Institute of Puebla with an introduction from Antonio Prada, the director. His presentation was in English, but he said, “English only happens every four weeks, during this introduction.” At first I thought I was going to be the oldest person here; I kept meeting kids – 18, 22, 25 years old. However, there are several women in their fifties and sixties. Beatriz, my conversational instructor, said I am not viejo (old), and not joven (young), I’m maduro.

We were separated into classes by our Spanish skills, and spent the next two hours speaking only Spanish. My instructor, Carolina, is very patient. If we don’t understand, she finds another way to explain. After lunch, we were paired for our conversation class. My instructor, Beatriz, and I went to Museo Amparo. The museum is enorme (enormous) and two hours was not enough time to see all of it. Beatriz was very patient with me.

We have been instructed to speak only Spanish. Obviously this makes communication interesting considering my limited Spanish skills. The more I use the language – listening and speaking – the more I will learn. We learn most from mistakes. We learn the meaning of the word we used, and the word we should have used. I learned a lot today. Although the first day was difficult and overwhelming, Beatriz assured me that by week eight, Spanish will be pan comida (a piece of cake).

For my tarea (homework), I had to record 20 new words. Since almost every word is new, it didn’t take long to complete my list. Then I had to use five of the words to write sentences (in Español, por supuesto). I can tell my vocabulary is already increasing.

The only thing I’m worried about is getting to and from the institute. I’m living far enough away that a combi is the best option. Combis are small minivans, which in Idaho would seat about eight people. For the morning ride to the institute I think our combi had about 184 people, but they were hard to count. The afternoon ride was much better, with only 12 or 13 people. Now I just have to remember when to say, “Bajan, por favor” (Next stop please).

Although today was a little overwhelming, I know this is the first day of an eight-week life-changing journey.

One Week to Go

2006-05-21T22:13:00.000-06:00

Well, I'm down to the last week. By this time next week, I will be in my new Mexican home, living with my new Mexican family (hopefully I'll be sleeping by this time since I'm sure I'll be tired from a long day of travel).

Tomorrow I should find out who my host family will be. I'm very excited. I've been praying that God would provide the right family.

Today part of my American/biological family came to visit. My niece clogs and was in a competition at Lagoon. She didn't do as well as she wanted, but I'm sure she was wonderful.

The rest of the family went along for the trip.
My sister and brother-in-law

My nephew

And my non-biological niece and her special friend

We spent the afternoon at Shoshone Falls. I can't believe how much smaller the falls are in just a couple of weeks.

It was a great way to spend the afternoon. Before my family got there, I got some photos of the people photographing the falls. Although I took a few photos of the water, I took a lot more of the people looking at the water. People are so fun.

I've posted a story about my people-watching at Photographica.com. You can see that story by clicking here.

For all of you who regularly check this blog: Thank you so much. Sometimes I'm amazed that people actually want to read what I write. Surely my life isn't that interesting. But, some of you have convinced me otherwise. Thank you for that.

Beginning next week I hope to update at least once a week. I'll include short travel journals about the places I get to see and the people I meet, I'll reflect on what I learn (language and culture), and I'll post some photos.

Astronomy Day

2006-05-07T09:10:00.000-06:00

Yesterday was Astronomy Day. To celebrate, went to the Herrett Center as CSI, because they were celebrating. The Centennial Observatory was open for solar viewing, which was very cool (or hot, depending upon your point of view). I got to see a sun spot through this telescope, and two solar flares through this telescope.

For the kids, they had a "Make-and-take" water rocket activity. I got some fun photos of kids launching their rockets. I was standing next to a woman who was watching her three kids launch their rockets. "I wish I would have brought my camera," she said. I happen to catch all three of her kids, so I e-mailed her the photos. It was fun to be in the right place at the right time.

Just for fun, here are a couple more photos.

It would have been a good weekend to get a lot accomplished

2006-04-30T18:53:00.000-06:00

Unfortunately, I didn't - get a lot accomplished that is. I actually did some things: yard work, golf team practice, house cleaning (yes, even this bachelor cleans sometimes), and I even built a display for the middle school world's fair.

But, I only checked off about 20% of the things I wanted to do this weekend. I got lazy, what can I say.

I did do something new this weekend, something I'm not sure I should blog about. I've debated with myself, and concluded that I should write about it if only to help myself think more clearly. It will seem vague and ambiguous, purposely so. If you want to know details, ask me in person.

The church I've been attending is a great church, but something happened last weekend that disturbed me. The more I thought about (and prayed about it) the more I thought this was God's way of telling me it was time to find a new church home. I haven't said anything to the pastor, and I'm not sure I will. I don't think it will do any good. I might write a letter just to clarify my thoughts, but sending the letter won't accomplish anything.

This morning I attended Calvary Chapel. The music was great, the people warm, the sermon meaningful. I don't know if this will be my new church home, but I did feel very comfortable there. I'll be back again next week.

For those of you who don't know, or forgot, Monday, May 1, 2006 is School Principal's Day. Give your principal a token of your affection.

Cauldron Linn and Murtaugh Launch

2006-04-23T18:52:00.000-06:00

I marked off two sites on my "Things to See Within Two Hours of Twin Falls" list.
First, I went to Cauldron Linn. According to one source, Cauldron Linn is the point at which Lewis and Clark decided that the Snake River is not completely navigable. At the cauldron, the river narrows down to less than 40 feet. Right now there is a lot of water coming through; it was amazing to stand right next to the river, hearing and feeling the power of the Snake River.

Visiting the falls turned out to be more of an adventure than I had planned. A friend had warned me that I probably wouldn't be able to take my truck down. I drive a small, gutless, 2-wheel drive, no-clearance, no-power, no-weight Ford Ranger.

I stopped at the top to survey the situation: a very wise move.

When I looked over the edge, the road looked fine, just a regular gravel road.

I decided to drive down: a very stupid move.

As I rounded the first corner for the descent, I saw why she had warned me: huge ruts, almost like moguls. I have no idea what possessed me to ignore every sensible bone in my body and continue down, but I did.

"Surely if I can make it down, I can make it back up."

I'm never again listening to Shirley.

Luckily, John and Sandy and Tundra were there to rescue me.

After two attempts to make it up through the dirt moguls, I had to back down the grade, tail between my legs.

"Do you need some help?"
"Yes, you see I was stupid and thought I could make it back up. I see you have four wheel drive."
"I also have a tow rope. How 'bout I give you a pull."
"Thank you very much. I promise never again to do something so stupid."

John and Sandy did not question my assertion that I was stupid, but they were also very kind and did not point out my stupidity.

Thank you John and Sandy.

After I reached the top, I decided to head south at the turn-off, rather than back north. I wanted to know what was that direction, having never been there before. Luckily for me, I was pleasantly surprised.

When I reached the Snake River, I found myself at the Murtaugh Bridge, and the Murtaugh Launch. I met some very nice kayakers and rafters who were preparing to navigate the 14 miles to The Twin Falls.

I also got to meet the best rafter in America. I think his name is Owen. He tried to deny the title, but everyone there said, "There is no one better than him. He's been kayaking for 40 years.

Considering how poorly the day started (and I don't mean the necessary tow) it turned out to be a great adventure - full of helpful and interesting people - and a great way to spend a day.

Two days in a row? Heaven forbid.

2006-04-11T20:32:00.000-06:00

I don't know what got over me yesterday, just writing for the sake of writing. But since it was so successful, I thought I might try again.

I’ll just start writing, with no literary destination in mind, and see where the pen leads, or in this case, where the fingers on the keyboard lead.

Hmmm…. Apparently nowhere. Nothing seems to be coming to mind, which either means my brain is useless at this point, or I am in a state of such total relaxation that no thought or keystroke can interrupt my

I’m sorry, what was I saying? Oh yes, state of bliss or state of inactivity.

Either way, there really isn’t any point in continuing to write. Sometimes thoughts just flow, sometimes they don’t and sometimes there just aren’t any there.

Whatever.

Instead, I’ll post some photos I took today. The elementary school has adopted a cat, “Buddy.”

Actually the cafeteria ladies (who, by the way, never get enough appreciation for what they do. Kids and adults alike just walk through the line, get the food, complain about it, and throw it out, without ever really thinking about how much preparation it took, and how much love those ladies put into their food. Of course I wish they would stop loving us with RibBQ and Turkey stirfry. Those two meals almost always come in the same week and they really are bad. I suggested once they remove those from the menu. I was told, “RibBQ is one of our most requested and favorite meals.” Really? When I eat with the kids, which I do almost every day at the elementary school, most of the kids throw away the RibBQ. Some eat the bun, being very careful to not touch the mystery sauce, but most just ignore the whole thing. The last time they served IT, I hadn’t bothered to check the menu and was caught unawares. I just couldn’t bear the thought of trying to choke down the meat-of-unknown-origin smothered in mystery sauce. I went to Subway. As for the Turkey Stir Fry, even the cafeteria ladies admitted it just isn’t good, but responded something like, “state menu blah blah blah requirements yadda yadda yadda no choice blah blah choke it down ingrate.” I’m not sure if those were her exact words, but I was still delirious from having eating RibBQ only three days before.)

Where was I? Oh yes, thank you for reminding me. (Now admit you had no idea where I was before that culinary tirade. You were just being polite.)

The cafeteria ladies (don’t get me started again) adopted Buddy last fall. He was a small kitten who had probably been abandoned. He is now very healthy and playful. I think he gets all the loving and attention he wants, and just enough torment to keep him frisky.

Here also is a picture of my favorite pet in the whole world: Chessa, my dog.

I'm sure you'll agree, she's beautiful.

She is getting a little cranky in her old age. She doesn't like people very much, at least not strangers. But, she loves me.

I hope you enjoyed todays ramblings. Just don't expect it all the time. Sometimes I really do have absolutely nothing to say.

Stay Away from the Blog Police

2006-04-10T19:25:00.000-06:00

I haven't posted anything in a while, which I'm sure is a crime in the "Blog World." So to avoid detection by the blog police, I figured I'd better post something, anything.

After you read this entry you might be thinking, "This was not nearly as thoughtful as Chris' usual entries. It seemed ... well random, disorganized, and just not thought out." You'd be exactly right. Of course you might also be thinking, "This wasn't any different than his other posts. It was random, disorganized, and just not thought out."

Today, April 10, in case you didn't know, is National Sibling Day. I don't know what you did for your sibling today, but I sent my favorite sibling and e-card. I realize that e-cards are much less sentimental than actual purchased-from-a-store-handwritten-mailed-with-a-stamp cards, and entirely too easy to create and send. You'd be right again. (WOW! You're on a roll today.)

However, it is the thought that counts, or so I've been told, and I did actually think about what to write in the card, and look for a card that expressed how I feel on National Sibling Day.

I don't get to see Susan near as often as I would like. Several years ago, when she and Janae and Braeden (my niece and nephew) needed a home, I offered mine. You're probably thinking, "What a caring and wonderful brother. Everyone should have a brother like Chris." You'd be right again (You're three for three in case you weren't counting).

I must say that in the three years they lived with me, I received much more benefit than I ever gave - MUCH MUCH MUCH more.

When they moved out, my life changed. I couldn't believe how much I missed them. Since then Susan has remarried. I could not have hand picked a better person than Steve. Not only is he a good husband, he's a great father, brother-in-law, son-in-law, and he has somehow learned to not only tolerate our family's idiosyncrasies (which here means our family craziness), but seems actually to enjoy and participate in the eccentricities (which here means we are having a debilitating influence on his mental state of being).

Janae and Braeden are growing into two incredible people. Everyday I miss watching them grow up, watching them learn new things, watching them suffer and triumph and fail and succeed. But, everyday I look at the kids at Wendell Middle School and Wendell Elementary School and think about Janae and Braeden. I look at "my" kids and think, "He looks a lot like Braeden. I bet if Braeden were here right now, at recess, he'd be doing the same thing." "She acts just like Janae: a little drama, but kind to other people, hard working, and ready to be a friend."

I hope that Janae and Braeden's counselors realize how cool these two kids are.

For not really having anything to say, I sure seemed to write a lot. That’s where the “random” part is sometimes helpful.

On a totally different subject, I bought a camera a while back to take pictures while I’m in Puebla this summer. I have had great fun learning how to use it. Here are some pictures I’ve taken. They’re not really for your benefit, although if you like the photos, let me know. I’m really posting them to make sure I know how to post photos on this blog before leave the country.

One last note, someone in the San Jose area checks my blog regularly. I have no idea who it is. If you are that person, please let me know. I’m dying of curiosity. Oh, and Thanks for checking up on me.

What makes me important?

2006-03-25T08:15:00.000-07:00

The last 2 weeks have been amazing, eventful, life-changing, and have made me examine parts of my life that have been hidden for a long time. There is no way this will all fit into one post, but I have to start somewhere.

I don't understand why God has brought me into contact with so many people who seem to go out of their way to make me feel important. I am a person with a healthy self-esteem; I have been a very confident person for most of my life. I can't say that I have ever truly excelled in anything, but in everything I have tried I have been proficient: golf, racquetball, graduate school, photography, writing. I’ve never been the best, but it seems I have always been above average in every pursuit.

Please don’t think I am tooting my own horn – I’m not. I think I owe my success to so many people around me, people who have expected much, asked much, given more and who have been supportive in so many ways.

Let me give several examples from the last few days. I recently returned from a USGA/PGA Rules of Golf Workshop in Chicago. The first morning of the workshop I met Larry, from Michigan, who was also attending the workshop. That first day we sat together, ate lunch together, and waited for what seemed like an eternity when the hotel shuttle driver got lost on his way back to pick us up.

The next day, Larry offered to give me a ride in his car (he had driven down from Michigan). For the rest of the workshop, I had a personal host. Larry was attending the workshop just like I was, and yet he did things to make me feel more important: shuttle me back and forth, bought a meal or two for me. He was not just being friendly – he was being a genuinely accommodating person, as if I was someone who deserved this sort of treatment.

Larry, in case I didn’t tell you at the workshop, thank you for everything.

Before Chicago, I was in Guadalajara with the Idaho State Department of Education. I was sort of an accidental addition to the delegation. Marilyn, a teacher from Wendell Middle School, was unable to go because of some family matters. I was chosen to replace her.

Why was I chosen? I’m sure there were other teachers who would have filled that position better than I, and yet the people at WMS think I am important enough they would choose to send me on a diplomatic mission. Humbled yet again.

The people on the delegation treated me like I was an important person. They asked my opinion, and listened when I offered it. They sought my input. How did this happen? Where did I gain credibility? Sometimes I wonder how I got where I am today. I don’t remember turning into a responsible adult, and sometimes I still feel like an irresponsible child (which isn’t all bad), but here I am; operating in an adult world like I belong.

The Méxican delegation who met us made me feel important (I would guess they made us all feel important, but I don’t want to speak for everyone else). In one meeting at a teachers’ college, many of the Méxican faculty spent much of their presentation looking at me, talking to me. Maybe it was just an egotistical perception, maybe everyone there felt the same. Whatever the case, I felt important in that meeting. At one point, Marcella asked for input, and she looked at me. So I offered my perspective. Once again, I felt humbled just being a spectator, let alone an active participant.

When I got home from Chicago, I went to visit my friends at the Idaho Golf Association. They have been making me feel more important than I am for 8 years now. I often tell Vicky I feel guilty because they give me so much, and I give so little back. She always responds, “Chris, we get much more from you than we give to you.” I guess that’s the sign of a good relationship: each side believes the most benefit is theirs.

I don’t understand why God places me in these situations. Do I feel important because of other people? Or is it some quality I possess? I know there are people out there who don’t feel important to anyone. How sad. Why should someone like me, someone who does not struggle (very much) with self-esteem and confidence, why should I be blessed with these people in my life?

I don’t have the answer. I do know that I thank God everyday for the people in my life: my friends, my colleagues, my family.

An Amazing Trip to Jalisco

2006-03-18T13:19:00.000-07:00

(Note: If you would like to view this story with accompanying photographs, please click on the title "An Amazing Trip to Jalisco" or click here.)

(Note 2: I decided it was silly to have this story without pictures, in the exact same form as the story with pictures, since it really doesn't work without the pictures. So, I've changed the story.)

When we flew into Guadalajara Airport, I began to suspect we were in for a treat. After checking in to the hotel, we headed for Tlaquepaque, go see some sites, do some shopping – there were many artisan shops – and have some dinner. One of the things I noticed right away about Guadalaraja – there were bugs everywhere (if you were reading this story with pictures, that last line would be much funnier because the picture is of two Volkswagen bugs, not insect bugs, so just pretend; you may laugh now).

It didn’t take very long to find to find some classic architecture. It seems they do everything in Guadalajara on a big scale, including things like doors and chandeliers. Everywhere I looked, the buildings were interesting, classsic. Their buildings have history and impact. And to see the juxtaposition of old European architecture, modern architecture and the falling-apart buildings of the low-socioeconomic class - the whole thing verges on sensory overload.

After all the travel and site-seeing, we decided to have some dinner. We listened to Mariachi (this picture would be funny also because this picture is of a metal mariachi man sculpture) and I tried not to make a pig of myself, even though the food was great. The people were so warm, including the five boys who wanted to shine our shoes, even my tennis shoes. We did listen to some real Mariachi music by a group of guys who were just amazing. Everyone in México seems to be musical. I've never been musical, but this summer, when I'm in Puebla, I might have to learn how to sing. Just don't expect me to Mariachi when I get back.

The next morning, Dr. Howard and Dr. Prinzing let us know it was time to get to work. We went to our first school: PLANTEL Cecytej Número 2 de Tlaquepaque, where Mike Nelson of Coeur d’ Alene High School, signed the first sister-school agreement. The ceremony was incredible. We were treated to some beautiful folk dancing, including a machete dance. The students dancing seemed to have so much fun. Mike turned out to be a real star. After the ceremony, the students had to go back to work, while we toured the school.

That night, we had dinner at “Alfredo” in the hotel. I know, I know: who goes to an Italian restaurant in México? We did. To be honest, their minestrone soup was some of the best I have ever had, ever.

The next school we visited was Primaria Urbana No. 416. We were greeted by a line of beautiful girls and handsome boys. The whole school was brightly decorated, everyone brightly dressed: a fiesta if ever I saw one. The kids were so cute, and ready to be the focus of camera attention, or personal attention. As soon as I walked in the front gate, and was greeted by the beautiful girls and handsome boys (I think they were 3rd graders) I got emotional. I'm kind of an emotional person to start with, but I was not prepared for this. Through the whole ceremony, I had to try hard to keep from crying (I didn't always succeed, especially when Sharon, sitting right next to me, started crying).

They danced, some more enthusiasticly than others. It was quite a show. They sang for us. Like I said before, I think everyone in México is musical.

At that school, John Pattis signed another sister school agreement. After the signing, a group of students presented us with gifts. This is the niña (again, a picture would make this more impactful) who gave me my gift basket. They fed us too much food, but it was all so good.

In the afternoon, we visited Trompo Mágico, an interactive-learning museum for children. It was an amazing place; kids are always on the move. The museum was too fantastic for me to tell you about it here.

After the museum, several of us went on a whirl-wind tour of the José Clemente Orozco murals, the most amazing being “Man of Fire.” Words cannot describe them, nor can photos convey their massive proportion.

Even a panoramic shot doesn’t give the feel and power of these massive murals.

Everywhere we went, the architecture of Guadalajara was forceful and beautiful.

Also, everywhere we went, there was movement. People, cars, animals … life.

As the sun rose on our last day, I was nervous. I don’t do very many things in my life that make me nervous. I was nervous and enjoying it. This was the day of my sister-school agreement signing.

We went to La Escuela Secundaria Mixta No. 56.

I was nervous, not because I had to speak in front a group of people; I don’t mind that.
I was nervous, not because there were television cameras; I’ve done that before.
I was nervous because this was a monumental moment in my life. Certainly this has impact for my middle school, and for Mixta No. 56. But this trip has been life-changing for me. I cannot believe how deep is the culture of México, how warm the people, how vibrant the society. I have a new appreciation and respect that will forever change how I view so many things.

For this ceremony, a group of students played guitars and sang for us.

Then came my moment, my turn to speak and ask them to accept Wendell Middle School as their sister school. I signed the agreement, and their principal signed.

After the signing, I toured the school (too quickly I must say), visited with the kids (who were happy to hear me try to speak in Spanish, and they didn’t laugh too much), then we were off to the airport.

As the sun set over Phoenix, I reflected on all I had experienced. This trip seemed so short; it was only four days. And yet as I sit in the airport I feel like the first day was weeks ago. So much happened in such a short time, and I don’t just mean activities. I have changed.

As I said at the end of my speech,

“Creo que México esta in mi Corazon.”

I believe México is in my heart.

Run and Run and Run

2006-03-06T18:25:00.000-07:00

Today, inspite of the plethora of reasons not to, I registered for my first marathon. In September, I am going to run 26.2 miles. When I say "run" I use that word in the loosest sense. I don't really run; I slowly jog. I started running (jogging, trotting, however you would like to read that) last fall. When I run in the mornings I usually go about 5 miles, and it usually takes about an hour. My fastest time for 5 miles is 54 minutes. The most I've run at one time is 12 miles (2.5 hours, thank you very much).

I'm not starting with a marathon. I actually started St. Patrick's Day last year. Thank you Dan for inviting me to run with you in the Malad Gorge Fun Run. This year Dan and I are running again. And, if you can believe it, we have convinced some other people to run with us: Luke, Wendy, Keelie, Kelly (if she doesn't chicken out), Rob, and Robert (If there's anyone else, I apologize for not mentioning your name). It's going to be a Wendell Middle School party.

If you know me at all you're probably asking yourself, "Why is Chris running? Especially 12 miles. He's too fat to run. There's no way he'll make it 26 miles."

You're right. I am too fat; that's why I'm running, at least that's one reason why. When I first started running back in September 2005, it took me almost an hour to run 3 miles, which is really a walking pace. I was really out of shape. I decided that it is time for me to get into shape, lose weight, improve my cardiovascular and strength, to help myself function and feel better.

The other reason I'm running is related to one reason I'm going to Mexico to learn Spanish. I need to improve myself. I need to improve my communication skills, I need to improve my health, my financial situation, my skills as a counselor, as a teacher.

I decided that for years - for too many years - I've waited for the perfect time to do things.

"I'll do that when the time is right."
"As soon as this happens, I'll start doing that."

There's no right time, no perfect time. All I have is now.

More and more I find myself identifying with the cliche:

If not now, when?
If not me, who?

Wish me luck.

And if you happen to be in Pocatello on September 2, and you see a person laying on the side of the road, unable to raise his head, or hand, or finger, please stop and check to see if it's me.

Proud (Embarrassed) to be an American

2006-03-04T16:00:00.000-07:00

I was in the store yesterday, met a person I know and her husband. They mentioned the dog food on my cart and the conversation wound its way to my trip to Mexico this summer for my Spanish Immersion program. The conversation, albeit short, amazed me. I was shocked, dismayed, embarrassed, surprised and offended.

The husband commented, “Isn’t it sad when you have to learn a different language to live in Idaho?”
I responded, “I’m really looking forward to my trip. I get to spend eight weeks with a Mexican family, learning the language.”
The wife said, “Well, we are just living in northern Mexico.”

Beneath so many “nice” people is hidden a bigot.
Here were two people representative of so many Americans.

Arrogant Americans think that English is the only language.
Prejudice Americans think they are too good to learn another language.

I’m embarrassed to say I said nothing to them.
I should have confronted their bigotry.

I should have said, “What’s sad is that arrogant Americans think that anyone who doesn’t know English is somehow less of a person. What’s sad is that so many Americans are language deprived, culturally handicapped, and can’t even admit there’s a problem. What offends me is that you say ‘northern Mexico’ like that’s a bad thing. It’s people like you who make me angry, embarrassed to be an American. If you had your way everyone would be white, talk like a hick and anyone who didn’t fit the model would be deported to somewhere, anywhere but here.

“You should be ashamed of yourselves, walking around with that kind of attitude. Mexicans come to America to make a better life. They learn our language and our culture, but you think you’re too good to learn anything from them. They come here, work hard, and contribute to society.

“If you are the typical American, I would rather be a Mexican.”

I said nothing, which makes me part of the problem. Certainly I don’t want to completely offend these people. I have to work with them. But I should at least have let them know how I feel.

My parents live in Nampa. Several years ago we were having a garage sale. An old geezer (and I use that term in the worst sense of the word) in the neighborhood came to the sale. I have no idea why, but he said to me, “Can you believe all the Mexicans moving into the neighborhood?” He did not intend his comment to be positive.
I responded, “Isn’t it great? I’m so glad we live in such a culturally diverse and accepting neighborhood.”

He moved out a few months later. Good riddance.

Sometimes, recognition is nice

2006-03-01T18:19:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I feel like I don’t do very much as a school counselor. Other days, I get to see the results of “not doing much.”

I get to teach in the classroom at least once a week. I teach lessons on empathy, anger management, impulse control, making friends, and problem solving strategies. I’m not always sure that kids are really getting what I’m teaching, but I always hope they’re picking up something.

This story may sound a little awkward, but I’m purposely trying to avoid indicating gender, age or other identifying information. Please bear with me.

This week a parent came to me to tell me a story about their family. The family has gone through some difficult times recently. This parent had asked the child, “How did you know what was going on with your parents?” The child responded, “Mr. McNaught taught us how to look for emotions in other people. He taught us that empathy is putting ourselves in another person’s situation. I put myself in your situation and figured out how I might be feeling if I was you.”

Wow. I was stunned. Somebody is really listening to what I’m teaching. And not just listening, but applying the information and strategies to their life. I work with elementary and middle school students; to see a child in that age group become aware of how people are feeling, to recognize the difficulty of a situation, even when the parents are trying to “shield” the student from their problems … I’m so proud.

I feel embarrassed because it sounds like I’m bragging on myself. I’m really not. I’m bragging on my kids. These students, all ages, all family background, all cultures, all socioeconomic conditions, they are so aware, so sensitive, so willing to learn and grow.

Yes, I’m teaching them about empathy, but they are applying it.
I teach it; they live it.

It really is great to be a school counselor.
I love my job.

How to get from Twin Falls to Puebla in 37 easy steps

2006-02-25T17:03:00.000-07:00

You might think that getting from one town to another, from any part of the world to another, really isn’t that difficult in this modern day and age. You’d be wrong.

But, you’re in luck. I have written an easy to follow guide – “easy” here means convoluted, vague, complicated and complex with dozens of unnecessary steps.

Step One: uuhhmm

Actually the steps here are so mixed up, I mean easy to follow, that we’ll just forego numbering the steps. Adding numbers to an already simple process will unnecessarily complicate the whole procedure.

You can start your journey to Puebla by agreeing to attend a Service Learning conference in Post Falls, Idaho. I realize that to a typical person, planning a trip to Mexico by heading toward northern Idaho seems wrong. It’s not. Stay with me here.

After you agree to attend this conference, make sure that another teacher in the school is scheduled to attend a different conference, in Guadalajara, Mexico. This might seem completely unrelated and irrelevant, but it isn’t. You see, both of these conferences – the Spokane conference on service learning, and the Mexico conference – are sponsored by the Idaho State Department of Education. You might be able to eliminate the Mexico conference, but that would hinder the ease of this 37 step program. Plus, you’re trying to get to Puebla, Mexico, so it makes perfect sense.

The other teacher, the one scheduled for the Mexico conference, won’t be able to attend. The school will need a replacement. Make sure that you already have a passport, that way you’ll get invited.

These next few steps have nothing to do with Puebla, or Spokane, but they are critical to the process. These steps I will number for convenience (or to confuse you, whichever you prefer).

Agree to attend a USGA/PGA Rules of Golf Workshop in Chicago.

Change the Guadalajara tickets on America West Airlines to your name.

Book a flight from Phoenix to Chicago on United Airlines, since the return trip from Guadalajara – the week before spring break – goes through Phoenix.

Book an extra night in Chicago, before the Rules workshop starts.

Book a flight from Chicago to Boise; you do need to get home after spring break.

Join America West Frequent Flier Mileage Program.

Join United Airlines Frequent Flier Mileage Program.

Join Alaska Airlines Frequent Flier Mileage Program.

Now we can return to the original conference in Spokane. Schedule your trip so that you leave the middle school in Wendell about 2:45 pm to catch a flight in Boise at 5:20 pm.

Alaska Airlines Flight 2302 will be oversold, so they will ask for volunteers to be bumped from the flight. Make sure you are one of the first volunteers. If you can arrange it, make sure you are not bumped because of too many passengers, but because someone on the plane has brought along a cello. The cello will take up two seats, thus the need to bump ticketed passengers. Too many passengers would be cliché. Being bumped because of a cello, now that’s dramatic.

It makes perfect sense if you think about it, just don’t think about it.

When the flight is boarded, and your bumped status is confirmed, a very cute woman named Kristie will help you. She will have a small diamond stud in her nose, and a bright shirt with a traveling-postcard motif. She will be very pleasant and helpful, giving you a free round trip air fare anywhere Alaska Airlines or Horizon Air flies. Kristie will call the Holiday Inn to make sure they have two rooms (since you’ve been bumped with a fellow educator from the middle school). She will call the Holiday Inn airport shuttle for you, making sure that the shuttle is ready to take you to the hotel as soon as possible. This might seem like extraneous information, but it will soon become clear that this kind of treatment doesn’t always happen. She will also give you a voucher for a free night’s stay at the Holiday Inn, and a meal voucher worth $8.00.

Now eight dollars may not sound like much for dinner, but in actuality, eight dollars won’t even buy you an appetizer at the Holiday Inn restaurant. I recommend you get the potato soup in a bread bowl, which is advertised as “Boise’s Best Potato Soup.” I’m not sure who awarded that distinction, but it is good soup.

Don’t despair, you will also get $6.00 for breakfast. That will be enough to buy a bagel, some cream cheese and a bottle of water. After last night’s $8 dinner and the morning’s breakfast feast, you will be so stuffed you won’t need food for the rest of the day, maybe even the whole week.

You will finally fly out of Boise, headed for Spokane at about 9:00 am, but not before going through the extra thorough security check. Apparently, if you are voluntarily bumped from a flight, this triggers the security check. Be prepared to be stripped of all your privacy: it is so much fun. This flight, from Boise to Spokane, takes a mere 5 minutes, arriving in Spokane at 9:05 am. There must be some time warp between Boise and Spokane because the return trip takes two hours. I don’t see it as a problem though. Five minutes one direction and two hours the other direction make just as much sense as the rest of the trip.

A very nice shuttle driver will pick you up at the airport, and transport you to the conference being held in Post Falls, Idaho, just across the border from Spokane.

Spend the day in the conference learning about how to integrate service learning into existing school curriculum. My experience at the conference was great, so I won’t spoil it for you.

The conference will end about 4:00 pm. You can head back to the airport for your 6:45 flight back to Boise. When you get to the airport, stop at the only food service available and buy a ham and cheese sandwich for $7.95. Apparently there’s a connection between airline food vouchers and the price of two pieces of bread and a dollar-bill sized piece of meat. You might be stuffed from yesterday’s meals, but trust me: eat this sandwich; you’re going to need your strength for what follows. You can refill your $3.00 bottle of water from yesterday.

After forcing down the food, proceed directly to your gate. Now this part of my step-by-step, easy to follow guide is crucial. Pay close attention.

When you get to the gate, make sure the plane that was supposed to fly in from Boise has mechanical troubles. That will force them to cancel the flight from Spokane to Boise. Apparently Horizon/Alaska doesn’t have any extra planes. If there is a cancelled flight, there is not a single extra plane on the entire west coast that could come pick up those passengers. I wonder what they do when a plane runs out of fuel? Maybe they just park it beside a cloud and hope another plane stops to pick them up, but I digress …

Remember how helpful Kristie was? She was Alaska’s ticket agent in Boise. The ticket agents here in Spokane, are not Kristie. They will be cranky, short-tempered and completely unhelpful. What an adventure! What great fun!

These ticket agents will not offer free round-trip tickets in exchange for the inconvenience of a cancelled flight. Apparently an overbooked flight is their fault, but the absence of a plane altogether is not. They can book 80 passengers on a plane that carries 75 and will reward a lucky five passengers. But if they book 75 passengers on a plane that holds zero passengers, “That’s not our fault.”

These ticket agents – who are not Kristie remember – will give you a voucher for one night’s stay at the Spokane Travel Lodge. They will not however, call the Travel Lodge to make sure they have rooms available. They will send an entire plane load of people to the Travel Lodge, so there would seem to be no point in calling to make sure rooms are available. She will also give you another $8.00 meal voucher. It is very important to keep this voucher, much more important than it was in Boise. She will not call the shuttle; you must figure this out for your self. It won’t be too difficult since there will be 75 other people also calling the Travel Lodge shuttle.

The hotel, and I use that term loosely here, will tell you that the shuttle is “on its way.” This will be about 5:45 pm. Forty minutes later a ten passenger bus will arrive to pick up 75 people waiting for the shuttle. According to the driver, it will take about 30 minutes for the shuttle to get back to airport since the hotel is only 4 miles away. Being the nice person you are, you will forego the first shuttle even though you’ve been standing in the cold for 40 minutes, and wait for the second shuttle.

Now I know what you’re thinking, because I was thinking the same thing. “The shuttle, which took 40 minutes to get here, was ‘on its way,’ and it can be back in 30 minutes. What happened to the other 10 minutes?” In actuality the shuttle gets back to the airport in 20 minutes. So when the shuttle was “onitsway” the first time, where was it headed? Canada? And why did it take twice as long to get to the airport if it had a head start. It must be related to that time warp thing that affects flight time.

When you get to the Travel Lodge, they will not have enough rooms for a cancelled-flight of passengers. When you get to the counter, they will say, “All I have left is smoking rooms.” Even if you don’t mind sleeping in a smoking room, say, “No, that will not be acceptable.” You must do this so you get the next response. “The rooms have been ionized. Would you like to go smell one and then decide?”

Try not to laugh in her face when she says that. Just be firm, but kind. Don’t tell her that ionized smoking rooms don’t smell like non-smoking rooms, they smell like ionized smoking rooms. Just say, “No. We will not be sleeping in a smoking room.” She will go through that night’s reservations, find one that is not guaranteed with a credit card, and cancel that one so that you can have a room. In the morning, when you see the family of six crying in the lobby from lack of sleep because their “unguarenteed” room had been cancelled, don’t feel bad and don’t cry with them or for them. This is all part of the plan.

Remember that hotel voucher you were given by the cranky Spokane ticket agents? Yours is basically worthless since you will have to share a room with another passenger because the Travel Lodge was unprepared for 75 people to just show up and they have no more rooms available even though dozens of other passengers have already doubled up in a fruitless effort to find room for all the cancelled flight patients (yes patients, we are no longer passengers) who were sent to an unprepared hotel. Whew!

Keep the hotel voucher so you can send it to Alaska Airlines when you write your letter expressing your deep discontent. I’m sure they will reimburse your $37.00 that was unused because you had to double up with another cancelled flight passenger … let’s not start that again.

After you drop your bags in the luxurious room, proceed directly to the hotel restaurant. Take out your $8.00 meal voucher and compare it to the menu prices. In Boise you had to add a few dollars to the voucher to pay for your meal. Here, the prices average about $20.00. With your eight dollars you can afford two shrimp, or 11 french fries, or some chicken strips if you’re really nice to the cranky, short-tempered, where-did-all-these-people-come-from-we-are-not-prepared-for-this waitress.

After you order, about 30 minutes after, the cstwdatpcfwanpft waitress will come back to tell you, “We’re out of chicken strips. Would you like a burger instead?” Say, “Yes, a burger will be fine.” Don’t worry though, you won’t have to eat a burger. She will come back 3 minutes later and say, “We found some chicken strips.”

Do I want chicken strips they “found” somewhere?
Where did they find these chicken strips?
Where did they decide to start looking for lost chicken strips?

If they taste like chicken, are they really chicken?

After dinner, spend the night in your luxurious, non-ionized suite. It is lavishly furnished with two beds, two uncomfortable chairs, a small table, and of course a TV.

When you get to the airport the next morning, you will once again be strip-searched. Apparently once a security red-flag, always a security red-flag. The women you are traveling with laugh at you as they sail unscathed through the “normal” people’s security line.

As you wait for the flight to Boise, ponder the questions:

How oversold will this flight be?
When will they ask for volunteers to be bumped?
Do I need/want another round-trip air fare to anywhere Alaska/Horizon flies?
Will I ever get home?

While waiting for your flight, make sure to visit the restroom and sit in the center of the three stalls. The person in the stall next to you will be talking on a cell phone while doing … you know what. Try not to laugh out loud.

When you finally get home, get online and book your flight to Mexico City. You don’t need to fly directly to Puebla because a representative from the Spanish Institute of Puebla will pick you up at the airport in Mexico City. They are very there.

You have finally reached critical point in the process.

In order to finalize your trip from Boise to Puebla, you’ll have to wait. As soon as I’ve made that trip, I’ll give you the other 14 steps in my easy to follow guide.

There’s much more to the story, but most of it is totally inappropriate. There was some discussion about potatoes, Eastern European women, and two women named Jowana and Anita. I have no idea what most of it was about, but there are a few colleagues who know what was happening.

Please don’t ask them though – they will deny the trip ever happened.

The Peanut Butter Thief

2006-02-14T11:54:00.000-07:00

When I was growing up my family had a ritual. It was silly, but important.

When mom would bring home the groceries, one lucky person got the first dip into a new jar of peanut butter. Obviously the first dip only happens once with each jar. To be that lucky person was prestigious. We didn’t always think about it right away when the peanut butter showed up. Sometimes one of us would open a new jar, an unaltered jar, and flaunt it in front of the other family members.

“What’s this? This jar of peanut butter seems to be untouched. I wonder who will get to it first?”

If it was me, I would taunt the rest of the family, easing it closer and closer to them, only to pull it out of reach an instant before they dipped a finger in the prize. I wasn’t always quick enough.

Oh the agony of having had that first dip within my reach, only to lose the chance because of my prideful need to taunt. My sister might sneak up behind me and dip her finger in while I was trying to avoid mom and dad. It was a cruel game, and oh so fun.

I remember one time finding a new jar in the pantry. I carefully opened the sealed top, wrote my name in the peanut butter and resealed it. I would wait for someone to open it, hoping they would try to taunt me.

Days later, the jar came out of the pantry. I think mom brought it out. “Well, look what I have here: a new jar of peanut butter. I wonder who will get the first dip?” Yes that’s right – she taunted.

I did my best acting job, trying to get close to the jar, knowing it was a prize already taken. She opened the jar, carefully peeled back the cover, only to discover my name. What sweet joy.

Since mom almost always did the shopping, she could have been the first on every jar. That would have been against the spirit of the game, and just not much fun for anyone.

Now I live alone. I still get excited when I open new jar of peanut butter, but there is no one to taunt.

My parents visited last weekend. In the cupboard, next to the nearly empty jar of peanut butter, sits a new jar. This morning I opened the cupboard to make a pbnj sandwich. “I wonder if anyone noticed the new jar?”

I carefully opened the top, pulled back the cover – there was writing in the peanut butter: “DAD”

Foiled again.

Just you wait Dad. I will avenge this covert dip.

She's Gone ... Forever

2006-02-12T20:10:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I ended one of the longest relationships in my life. In fact, I think it is the longest relationship, other than my family. I’ve been part of this partnership for 24 years. Although it was hard to end, it was time. I counted on this partner for a long time. We didn’t talk everyday; over the last few years I’ve paid her less and less attention. But she’s always been there for me, waiting for me to return.

Yesterday I sold my 1966 Volkswagen Bug. I got her when I was 15, before I even had a driver’s license. She hasn’t run for almost 13 years. After I graduated from college, I bought my 1989 Ford Ranger (the ‘new’ car). I drained the oil from the Bug, put her up on blocks and protected her with a car cover. I’ve moved her twice, hoping to one day restore her to her original beauty.

As I’ve gone through the process of simplification, I’ve always withheld the Bug. I’ll get rid of anything, but the Bug isn’t stuff; I can’t get rid of her. God finally tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Chris, time to get rid of the car.” Really? Are you sure it’s time? I don’t think it is. “Yes. It’s time.” Okay (read that last word with your head hanging, and the tone of voice like that of a 6 year old who’s been told he’s going to get a spanking, no matter how much he apologizes).

But it was just a car. After she was gone, I was okay.

My parents visited this weekend. A long time friend called tonight. I’m sure they didn’t intend the effect they had, but they had an effect on me. I was reminded that relationships are with people, not things. Even if I get rid of every thing I own, I will still be a wealthy man.

I have loving family, caring friends, supportive co-workers.
I have students who count on me every day.
I have dreams and desires.
I have a God who is directing my life.

Besides, I know that she went to a good home. She’ll be well cared for and one day I might see her on the road again, driving with that wonderfully unique sound.

Financial Update: $1538.00 received.

I Choose

2006-02-05T19:33:00.000-07:00

This week was discouraging, more so than any I’ve had as a school counselor. I can’t go into details – I’m bound by confidentiality. Suffice it to say, the circumstances of this week would not be a good recruiting tool for new counselors. I was involved in some uncomfortable situations, ones that no counselor would want. It was difficult, emotionally draining and discouraging.

To see children hurting hurts me. When children are intentionally hurt by family members … I just get sick to my stomach, literally.

One of my personal goals – not a check-off-the-list kind of goal, but a life-change kind of goal – is to find the positive in every situation. No matter what happens, if I look closely enough I should be able to identify a benefit, a positive, a silver lining.

This week, even in the most discouraging circumstances, I was able to find encouragement and benefit. I didn’t even have to search.

I found supportive friends.
I found parents who love their kids, and know how to show it.
I found teachers who care about their students (and me).
I found students who care about each other.

I remembered why I am a school counselor.
I remembered that matter what other people say or do, no matter how they act or behave, no matter suspicion or jealousy or accusation, I still love my kids, my students.
I am living for the best welfare of all my students, all of them.

I choose not to let the negativity of others create negativity in me.
I choose not to let the jealousy, the hate, the fear, the self-destructive behaviors, the cynicism, steal from me my caring, my love, my respect.

I choose how I act and behave.
I choose to love and care.

I Doubt It

2006-01-29T12:42:00.000-07:00

I woke up last night after a profound dream. At the time I only remembered a small part, but it was the most important part. Even now, as I write this, I can’t remember the dream, not even the epiphany. But, I do remember the thought process that the dream started.

I doubt what I believe.
I believe because I doubt.

My ability to doubt, even my desire to do so, separates me from animals (and some humans). Doubt forces me to examine my beliefs, my life, my self – to scrutinize, question, test.

Nietzsche said (and I paraphrase) “Only the man with strong faith can afford the luxury of doubt.”

I would encourage you, who are reading this blog (all 5 of you) to think about what it is that you most strongly believe: love, courage, truth, God (or lack thereof) honesty, integrity, family, success, sanctity of humanity, etc. I challenge you to doubt that which you hold most sacred. What is the belief that upon which all your other beliefs rest? Whatever that is, doubt it.

Tear it down, piece by piece.
Examine it with the finest tools.
Scrutinize it with the harshest skepticism.
Think of it as if it were completely opposite of what you believe.

If it is not true, your belief, it will disintegrate under unrelenting attack. It will fall apart and prove itself unworthy. On the other hand, if it is true, it will withstand your onslaught.

My most base belief is that God, the creator of all, sent Jesus His son to die for me.

Over my life, I have doubted God often. I have scrutinized, examined, questioned. I have torn down my belief piece by piece, bit by bit. God has always withstood my attack, my doubt. I have discovered that every time I doubt God, my faith grows.

Faith sustains us in the hours when reason tells us we cannot continue. (I don’t know where I got that quote. Maybe it was me, maybe I stole it. If you know, let me know.)

There have been times in my life when I was convinced God did not exist – and I told Him so. I yelled at Him, “You are not real. You have never existed, have never done anything for me. You’re not helping me now. There is no reason for me to believe in you.”

I find it interesting that I would talk to, or scream at, someone who doesn’t exist. If He really didn’t exist, I wouldn’t even need to address Him or argue against Him. I think one of the most effective proofs of God is the existence of Atheists. If God was not REAL, there would be no Atheists. I’m glad they’re working so hard for God. But I digress…

My God, I have discovered, is strong enough to withstand my fiercest attack, my harshest words and thoughts, my meanest intentions. He doesn’t get angry when I yell at Him.
When I doubt, He believes.
When I scrutinize, He confirms.
When I question, He answers.
When I reject, He accepts.
When I teardown, He builds up.

When I am done with my inquisition, my faith is stronger than before. And so is my ability and desire to doubt. The next time I doubt Him, I’m better at it; I have stronger arguments, I’m more ruthless, more skeptical.

He always remains, always withstands.
He always endures.

I doubt what I believe.
Because I doubt, I believe.

On Writing

2006-01-28T13:31:00.001-07:00

When I write, I do not
have to remember
I do not have to be
afraid I will forget.

Writing offers me security.

But permanent, solid, real words
can be scary.

“The world is round.” – C. Columbus

2006-01-28T13:31:00.000-07:00

Was he the first to say this? To think this? I imagine someone thought it before he did. Someone knew that a flat world was wrong. I imagine it was a child. She pondered the idea of a round world. She was the round sun eclipsed by her play ball and thought, “I wonder if the sun is a big ball of light? If the sun is like a ball, I wonder if the earth is like a big ball of dirt.”
She formed a ball of dirt and mud
     Added some moss and grass and twigs
     And proclaimed, “Here is where I live,”
     As she points to a particularly
     Green area of her earth-model.
     She was only ten. What could she know?
Christopher Columbus overheard her playing. He began to ponder the possibility. “What if the world is round?”
     “If it is, I could sail around it.”
     “I will need a boat, a crew, some
     food and water. I need money.”

She was too young to act on her idea. Or maybe too afraid to tell anyone.
Christopher Columbus took credit for her idea.
Sure, he sailed, he risked.
But she dreamed, she thought.
She took the greater risk:
     To challenge the system
     To break away from convention
     To be innovative, creative, original.
She is lost to history, a silent
     Partner in discovery.
Her spirit is alive.

Let me be creative, original, innovative.
Let me challenge the system,
     Break away from convention.
Let me take the greater risk.
I don’t even need the credit.

I Don’t Want to Be An Expendable Star Trek Crew-Member

2006-01-28T13:23:00.000-07:00

(yes I know this is a run-on sentence; that was the point)

Where is my manual of instructions and my roadmap to life and my copy of Relationship Rules and the widely accepted Guidelines for How to Be a First Grader and How to Own Pets and How to be an Uncle, Brother, Brother-In-Law, Cousin, Son, Grandson, and Nephew and when does someone tell me it is time to be responsible and time to play and who presides over my continual attempts to participate in the game show of life, that show which will finally give me my fifteen minutes of fame, the one that I hope nobody is watching and the same one where I hope everybody will notice me because the host of the game thinks I am witty and clever and one of the most interesting contestants he has ever known and even though I know better – because I’m not really that interesting or witty or clever, at least not in a stand-out, returning champion sort of way, but only a Star Trek expendable crew member sort of way, the guy who wore the red uniform, different from all the other crew members, but everyone watching knew that he would be killed as soon as the Klingons or Romulans showed up and right after Bones said, “Dammit Jim, I’m a doctor,” – I still hope and believe that someone really thinks I’m not the expendable one, that I’m not “Crew-Member in Red Shirt #2,” that when the final credits role, my name will be under the heading “Starring” and maybe I will also be listed as Co-Producer or Executive Assistant to the Executive Producer or have some letters after my name that stand for something only six people in the whole world recognize – the person with the letters, and five other people who have the same letters after their name – and if I get that kind of credit – in the final credits – it won’t make my role any more or less valuable or important or contributory or otherwise change what I have done or have not done in any appreciable, noticeable way.

Financial Update:
Due to the generosity of Family and Friends -- $1513.00
Thank you all.

Just One Blog is Enough

2006-01-23T18:33:00.000-07:00

I eliminated my other blog, "My Spam Poetry." It was fun for a while, but the focus of my recent life's journey has been to simplify. Two blogs? I don't need two blogs. I don't need to divide my focus - it's already divided.

If you want to see some of my other writing, including my collected spam poetry, let me know and I'll be happy to send you some.

Financial Update:
As of January 23, 2006, God has provided $1363 through the generosity of family and friends.

My Many Journeys

2006-01-16T17:21:00.000-07:00

As I was running this morning (5.3 miles, which felt really good today) my mind wandered to my recent journeys.

About 8 years ago I began a process of eliminating clutter from my life. At the time I was living in a small 4 bedroom house - 2 up, 2 basement - and the house was filled with stuff and junk and clutter. I'm not sure what prompted my attitude change, but one day I decided I needed to get rid of extra stuff.

I started with three piles:
1. Definitely keep
2. Definitely get rid of
2a. throw away
2b. sell (like on ebay or a garage sale)
2c. give away to someone who will appreciate it
3. I'm not sure yet

About every 4-6 months, I would repeat the process. Stuff would sometimes go from pile three to pile 2, or even back to pile 1. Stuff from pile 1 moved to the other two piles. Slowly, poco a poco, the piles got smaller and my house began to look emptier. It was a freeing feeling.

I also got rid of credit card debt. That was one of the hardest things I have ever done. It was humiliating to admit I had gotten myself in that much trouble. However, when I admitted my situation to family and friends, I got nothing but incredible support. No ridicule, no "shame on you", just love and caring. I had to accept that I don't need to buy gifts for friends to make them like me. I don't need to pay for dinner. If I can't afford something, I can't afford it.

During this time, I also got rid of a horrible job. It was a negative environment and the longer I was there, the worse things got. I eliminated that from my life and returned to graduate school to get a degree in counseling. Best move I have ever made in my life, ever. I could say that was the turning point for everything.

This last fall, I made a tour around my house for more "stuff" to eliminate. Everything I found fit in a milk-crate sized box. I thought, "Finally, I'm done getting rid of stuff. I've simplified my life."

How wrong I was. God tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Now that we've gotten rid of the small things, let's start working on some big things.

Here's the list I want you to work on:

1. Let's get rid of that extra fat on your body, and while we're at it, let's get rid of your excuses for keeping it in the first place. Part of that means getting rid of meat too. Not all meat, but most of it.

2. It's time to get rid of your 1966 Volkswagen Bug. I know you've had it since you were 15. That's long enough. Let it go.

3. Let's also get rid of your pride. Sometimes you need help. Be willing to ask for it. Asking for help is not a sign of weakness. Also, be willing to say, "No" sometimes. You don't have to help everyone.

4. I think your tv can go too. It only wastes time and fills your mind with things that don't need to be there. 'Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things.'

5. I want you to let go of the steering wheel. This journey you are on ... I'm directing it, not you. Let me guide. Listen to me. I won't steer you wrong.

6.Finally Chris, I want you to let go of your unwillingness. You've been stubborn about a lot of things. It's time to let that go.

I thought that simplifying my life was a matter of eliminating material things, and that has been part of it. All these journeys have really been one journey. As I have eliminated clutter - emotional, material, physical - I have finally been able to focus on the true goal.

I've been looking at God through a screen door covered with sheer curtains. I could tell someone was outside the door, and I probably even recognized who it was. But, I couldn't distinguish any features, no details.

"But one thing I do: forgetting what is behind, and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize, for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."

By eliminating clutter, I've been able to see Jesus clearly. He says, "I've been here just waiting for you to open the door. Wanna come out and play?"

Interesting Article on Mexico

2006-01-16T13:45:00.000-07:00

I just read this post on another blog. It has some great information.

I Hate Extreme Makeover Home Edition

2006-01-15T20:11:00.000-07:00

I hate Extreme Makeover Home Edition every single week. No matter how many times I watch it, I hate it every single time and I will continue to hate it every week. Why? Because every week, I end up crying at some point during the show, usually several points during the show. I hate that.

Even though TV is full of hate, war, violence, immorality, disrespect and countless other depressing issues, there is at least one show that highlights the good in people. The people on the show - the ABC team, the volunteers, the contractors, the communities - they are just aching for a chance to give of themselves. EMHE presents people with the opportunity to give, to give of their time, their money, their energy, their effort, themselves.

When the show first began, I noticed that each week the family situations got worse and worse. I thought, "At some point they're going to run out of worse situations." I was wrong. There are so many people in this world who need help. We don't have to send our charity across the world. We can give to people right in our own proverbial backyard. I can give right in my backyard.

One of my goals on 43things.com is to be more compassionate. To implement that in my life is to be aware of needs around me. To live with compassion for other people and not just people in "obvious" need. Everyone has needs. Every student I interact with has a need that I can fill. Every teacher is seeking, every family is searching, every person is looking for someone to recognize their need. All I have to do is live with compassion and be aware. Maybe they just need a hug, or a friendly greeting. Maybe they just need someone to recognize their existence, to notice them.

I hate Extreme Makeover Home Edition. And I love that a TV show can encourage me to be a better person.

God Provides Sufficient, Not Extra

2006-01-15T05:02:00.000-07:00

I don’t know how many of you have actually seen “The Million Dollar Home Page.” I had heard that the university student who started the site had finally sold all the pixels. The last open space was sold on eBay for over $38,000. He had a dream to make $1,000,000 – and he accomplished it.

As I was looking for the website (I couldn’t remember the exact name) I came across dozens, possibly hundreds, of copy-cat sites. It certainly occurred to me, “How could I do that? Maybe the $43,000,000 home page.” I heard that he has already reserved the name “billiondollarhomepage.com” for a possible future venture.

I surfed over to some of the copy-cat sites, just out of curiosity. Most of them are failing, horribly. They are trying to copy someone else’s success, rather than find their own way.

In my search for God’s purpose, I’ve considered following the successes of other people. Every time, and I do mean every single time, I have tried to follow earthly success, rather than seeking to follow God’s will, I have failed miserably.

In this journey to a new language, to a new appreciation for another culture, I have tried to follow God’s will. I registered for the school because it is the right path. I asked for help from friends and family, because I can’t pay for all of it myself. God has blessed my willingness to obey.

You might notice that I’ve taken out “$ left to raise.” I have a feeling that God will bring me exactly the right amount. I don’t know how much that is. The world will see it as coincidence, serendipity, spooky. But I know that God knows exactly how much this trip will cost: airfare, tuition, expenses, etc. He might include things I haven’t thought of, critical things. He might also exclude things that I think are critical, but aren’t really. I have thought about what to do if “extra” money comes in. I don’t really think there will be extra. There will be sufficient.

For example, I think I could use a new digital camera for the trip. It would allow me to photographically document my time in Mexico, post the pics to the web, and keep my supporters informed and involved. That may or may not be a God-approved expense.

I heard someone say, “God answers prayer, always. He has four answers: Yes, No, Not Yet, and I have a better idea.”

I am content to ask and listen.
Do I need $4,000 for this trip? $5,000?
Do I need a camera?

I do know this, if this blog brings in donations of $1,000,000, some of it will go to finance my trip to Mexico. The rest, God will provide a use.

As of Sunday, January 15, 2006,
$1,263 provided by God, through family and friends

I never would have guessed

2006-01-14T20:25:00.000-07:00

This week confirmed that I am doing the right thing. God has blessed me in so many ways.

I got a letter this week from an old family friend. When I saw the return address, I knew that there was a check inside. I had no idea how much it would be; it turned out to be more than I could have imagined. He was so excited to be able to help.

Here I am thinking: I am asking people to give. I am the receiver here. It turns out that the people who have given, keep telling me how much they enjoy the gift, as if they are receiving as much benefit as I am.

I registered for a conversational Spanish class this week. I am so excited.
I got some books I ordered: Spanish Dictionary, Verb Conjugation.

Everyday God brings something new into my life, some incredible gift.

I hope He brings something new into your life. All you have to do is ask.

As of Saturday, January 14, 2006,
Days to Go: 133
$ Received: $1,263
$ To Go: ≈ $2,737

Update By The Numbers

2006-01-10T19:14:00.000-07:00

As of Tuesday, January 10, 2006,
Days to Go: 137
$ Received: $263
$ To Go: ≈ $3,737 (I’m guessing I will need about $4,000 total for eight weeks.)
Supportive Friends & Family: Countless

If you would like to send a gift, you can do so through this button:

Change is Hard

2006-01-08T13:42:00.000-07:00

Change is Hard

I had an interesting experience in church this morning, a revelation of sorts. Spiritual certainly, but not necessarily religious.

I just finished reading a book, Wherever You Go, There You Are: Mindfulness Meditation in Everyday Life, by Jon Kabat-Zinn. It is a guide to Zen meditation. I’m not a Zen Buddhist; I’m a Nazarene Christian. But this book offers a lot of insights that can be applied to every day life, anyone’s life, regardless of religious background.

In the chapter entitled “Wherever You Go, There You Are,” Jon says, “So, if you think your [life] is dull, or no good, or that the conditions aren’t right where you find yourself, and you think that if only you were in a cave in the Himalayas, or at an Asian monastery, or on a beach in the tropics, or at a retreat in some natural setting, things would be better, [your life would be easier to change] … think again.”

I’ve been telling myself for years that the reason I don’t sing in church is because I really can’t carry a tune. I still believe that to be true. I’ve heard myself sing. Once I recorded myself singing … yep, it was really bad. Even so, I feel God leading me to make changes in my life (like learning a new language). I’ve been thinking that when I get to Mexico, I’ll sing in church down there. They won’t know that I can’t sing. It will be change of venue that will allow me to make a change. It will be my “cave in the Himalayas” or my tropical beach that will somehow make a magical change.

Kabat-Zinn goes on to say, “When you got to your cave or your beach or your retreat, there you would be, with the same mind, the same body, the very same breath that you already have here.” “There is always something to dislike. So why not let go and admit you might as well be at home wherever you are?”

As I sat in church, NOT singing, I thought about when I would sing in Mexico. Then I thought, “Why am I not singing now? Nobody is sitting close enough to hear me.”

So I started to sing. I was embarrassed, even though nobody could hear, and even if they did, they wouldn’t care. I was self-conscious and tentative, but I sang. It was alright. I won’t pretend that it was my favorite thing. But I enjoyed it.

It makes me wonder how many other things in my life I’m delaying. I’m waiting for some magical external change to help me make an internal change.

This will be a fun process.

Year-End Update

2005-12-30T16:02:00.000-07:00

Year-End Update

Well, the end of 2005 is almost here, and it has been a really good year for me. I got to spend Christmas with my family. I am so lucky to have such a wonderful, loving family.

I could not have asked for a better job. The people in Wendell – the students, staff, families – have made me feel indispensable, like I am an essential part of the school. Not all school counselors feel that way. I am so blessed to have found Wendell. I believe God sent me here because it is the perfect fit.

I have already been blessed by family and friends, with contributions for my trip to Mexico next year.

I have received $188 so far. Only $4,812 to go. I know that God will provide.

Have a great new year.

Why a Blog?

Having decided to attend a Spanish Immersion program at the Spanish Institute of Puebla, I created this blog for two main purposes:
1. Keep my friends and family informed as I pursue this exciting opportunity. I hope to update once a week (more often if something exciting happens).
2. Ask friends, family, and stray visitors for support. In order to make the most of this opportunity, I will need two kinds of support:
a. Financial Support (Click on the button below to donate through PayPal)
b. Prayer Support (Email me at cmcnaught@sipuebla.com) Let me know that you are thinking of me and praying for me.

Why a Blog?

2005-12-28T17:40:00.000-07:00

Why a Blog?

Having decided to attend a Spanish Immersion program at the Spanish Institute of Puebla, I created this blog for two main purposes:

Keep my friends and family informed as I pursue this exciting opportunity. I hope to update once a week (more often if something exciting happens).

Ask friends, family, and stray visitors for support. In order to make the most of this opportunity, I will need two kinds of support:

Financial Support (Click on the button below to donate through PayPal)

Prayer Support (Email me at cmcnaught@sipuebla.com) Let me know that you are thinking of me and praying for me.

Best Way to Learn Spanish? Read It.

2005-12-22T16:07:00.000-07:00

I recently finished a book by Carl Franz: The People's Guide to Mexico. In it he suggests reading is the best way to learn Spanish. Although I understand about 2% of what I read, I've been visiting some Spanish language blogs. Check them out in the Links section.
If you would like to help, you can send donations via PayPal.

¿Se Habla Español?

2005-12-22T11:04:00.000-07:00

When I was in graduate school, I joined a writing group for professionals (mostly, counselors). I was not sure I could afford to join, but I called the facilitator to ask how much it was. She told me she could scholarship half of the fee, meaning I needed to come up with $125. At the time (well, even now) that was a lot of money. I didn’t commit right away because I needed time to consider the financial ramifications. That week, while pondering, I received a check from NNU, payment for having worked at the basketball games. Guess how much it was: $125. God provides.

Near the end of the group, one of the members asked me if I would be back for the next series.

“I can’t afford another go-round, and I don’t think I can ask for another scholarship.”

She said to me, “Chris, are you a good receiver?”

Such a seemingly innocuous question, deceptively simple. She trapped me and I didn’t even realize it. I thought to myself, “Of course I’m a good receiver. I’m a graduate counseling student. I’m more sensitive, more caring, and more in touch with my emotions. I must be a good receiver.”

So I said, “Yes.”

“Great, then I am paying your tuition for the next group.”

Trapped, by my own words. All I could do was thank her.

That gift, that group, those counselors – changed my life. The most profound way may be my ability to receive. Compliments make me uncomfortable, always have: I accept them. Rejecting them is like rejecting the person offering the compliment. If a gift is offered, I accept humbly.

I’ve had another opportunity come into my life for personal growth. The student population in Wendell (where I am working as a school counselor) is 40% Hispanic. There are many students, and more parents, who speak little or no English. Consequently, there is a group of people that I am significantly less effective with because of MY language deficiency. To do my job, to be an effective counselor and communicator, to give my best to all my students and families, I need to learn Spanish. I am learning Spanish now, from a book I bought (which, I’m told is the least effective way to learn Spanish), from a software program, from the kids at school (which is certainly the most fun way to learn), and I will be taking a conversation Spanish class the College of Southern Idaho, beginning after the first of the year.

I have the opportunity to attend a Spanish (or more accurately Mexican) Immersion program in Puebla, Mexico. During the program, I will attend class 4 hours per day learning Spanish basics. I will spend another two hours in one-on-one conversation with a Mexican teacher/tour guide. The most significant part of the program will be living with a Mexican family. During my time in Puebla, all my interaction with the teachers, families, residents of Puebla, will be in Spanish. No English allowed.

I will certainly learn Spanish while there. But more importantly, I will learn the culture. I will gain insight into the background of a large percentage of my Wendell families and students. Many of the kids and more of the parents were born in Mexico. As a counselor, I need to understand their heritage and culture.

This opportunity, like the writing group, is beyond my financial capacity. I simply cannot afford to pay for this immersion program, and yet I cannot afford not to take advantage of this. I have learned that I am confident enough to humbly accept a gift when offered. I am also aware enough to recognize when I need help, and confident to ask for it. I am asking for your help, your financial help, and your prayers.

I have taken the first step toward this exciting time of learning and growth: I have prayed for God’s guidance and have received confirmation that I am doing the right thing.

Before May 29, 2006, when the school starts, I need to raise money for tuition, airfare, and living expenses while in Puebla. For four weeks, total expenses will be about $3500. If God is really good, I hope to stay for 8 weeks, which will be about $5000.

If you would like to help, you can send donations via PayPal.

My Photo

2005-12-22T11:00:00.000-07:00

school counselor
guidance counselor
middle school
elementary school
junior high