CBS Volunteers report on the Experience, Cofradia, Honduras

Especially Memorable:

A Teacher's First Year by Catie Solan, 2nd grade teacher 2002-2003

I arrived the Saturday before school started thinking I had a whole week to set up my classroom, adapt to cultural changes and prepare both myself and my lessons for the second graders in Cofradia. Well as with most things in Honduras, plans change at the drop of a hat and all that I had planned to do in a week I had to cram into the next 36 hours. We spent fourteen hours the second day I arrived getting things ready at school. I remember asking if every day would be as long as that first full day in Cofradia. Well the days were long but the ten months I spent in Honduras seemed much shorter. Unpacking, I found a note from my mother wishing me good luck and saying that my students would never forget their second grade teacher; then I couldn't have imagined how fast the year would go or the experiences that were yet to come. I had been there before so I had an idea of what living in Honduras would be like. The thought of bucket baths, no potable water, the excruciating heat and what the pila actually was used for was not a foreign concept. The thought that my aunt's family was a 40 minute bus ride away in San Pedro Sula was comforting if I had any problems or just wanted to escape Cofradia. But the experience I gained as a first year teacher is incomparable to any I would have had in the United States. I came to Cofradia fresh out of college, with a degree in Elementary Education and a specialty in ESL. I had done student teaching in the inner city schools of Boston, the majority of my students from Latino backgrounds. I wanted to better my Spanish and thought the best way to do this was to teach in a third world country where I'd be forced to use the Spanish I did know and give deserving children the chance at learning English. I brought with me the maximum allowed luggage on my flight to Honduras. It was filled with materials I thought would be useful for teaching my class. I didn't know anything about my students except that they would need a lot of recuperation after their not so successful first grade year. In the first week of school, I found that with some students we needed to go backwards before we could make progress and go forward. This class needed to learn first how to be students, respecting their classmates and just how to learn. I would pass out books and just ask that they look at pictures and they cried, literally; I passed out beans to use as math manipulatives to add, subtract or just count and they were thrown across the room. Homework was something they thought should take them hours. Just the idea of having the teacher standing in front of the classroom was too difficult a concept for them to grasp, they begged to just copy things into their notebook. Somehow learning took place in those first few months even with a teacher that had laryngitis more than once. The kids no longer cried when I passed out books; they became accustomed to making up stories to go with the pictures, recognizing words and some actually began reading the words in English on the pages of the books. They began to beg to take the books home and learned how to take care of them. The beans, popsicle sticks, and number tiles began staying on the desks and actually being counted. The idea of getting to use an educational game when work was finished became an incentive to do their work instead of whining that they didn't want to do it. Every day was a challenge. I had a small group of students but in that small group there were emotional and behavioral issues, learning disabilities, and lots of energy to take into consideration when planning. With limited curricular resources it was difficult to plan to meet the needs of each child but every single child showed improvement in one area or another by the end of the year. The rewards outweighed the challenges. My students craved attention and strived to do things to please me. Everyday I was greeted with smiles and hugs. I would receive pictures and notes of appreciation and token gifts; even if they were frogs in my desk drawer placed there for safekeeping! Even those days when you are at your wits end, the kids know just how to do or say something to which you can't do anything but just laugh. They certainly have learned how to turn on their charm! Our days never ended when school ended. There were always lessons and events to be planned, additional help sessions after school and English courses to be taught. In the volunteer house we all shared cleaning and cooking responsibilities. With just a stovetop and the limited ingredients (unlike our modern grocery stores) we had to be inventive. Our dinners often turned into three hour long discussions of whatever was going on at school. Living together, we became like a little family. We all came from different places and brought with us different experiences but came with similar aspirations. We offered each other support, a listening ear, covered for each other in the classroom, made each other laugh and became close friends. The generosity and support by the people in Cofradia is something I'll never forget. The undying assistance from parents of children at school and our neighbors never ceased to amaze me, especially when our means far exceeded theirs. Fruits and vegetables from local gardens would be a weekly if not daily occurrence on our doorstep. Transportation was always offered; they even insisted upon volunteering themselves to take us wherever it was we needed to be. All of the volunteers would rejoice when the frequent invitations came to dine with a family in town; even with families cooking three different meals for one night to accommodate the various eating styles we all had. Medicine and herbal remedies were given to us for whatever ache or ailment we complained about or sniffle or cough that was heard. Advice sometimes turned into lectures we didn't always necessarily want to hear but it came from those who cared about us most and truly were just interested in looking out for our well-being. I will always remember the generosity from these people I'll never forget. Every teacher's first year is memorable but mine was especially memorable. Thanks to all the other volunteers I worked with, the Honduran teachers, those that came for short visits replenishing our supplies, and most especially the people of Cofradia. And of course; Sherlie, Cecilia, Marisol, Clint, Oscar, Christopher, William, Rommel, Melvin, Pablo, Alexis and Daniel; my second grade students whom I certainly will never forget.

Especially Memorable: A Teacher's First Year by Catie Solan, 2nd grade teacher 2002-2003 I arrived the Saturday before school started thinking I had a whole week to set up my classroom, adapt to cultural changes and prepare both myself and my lessons for the second graders in Cofradia. Well as with most things in Honduras, plans change at the drop of a hat and all that I had planned to do in a week I had to cram into the next 36 hours. We spent fourteen hours the second day I arrived getting things ready at school. I remember asking if every day would be as long as that first full day in Cofradia. Well the days were long but the ten months I spent in Honduras seemed much shorter. Unpacking, I found a note from my mother wishing me good luck and saying that my students would never forget their second grade teacher; then I couldn't have imagined how fast the year would go or the experiences that were yet to come. I had been there before so I had an idea of what living in Honduras would be like. The thought of bucket baths, no potable water, the excruciating heat and what the pila actually was used for was not a foreign concept. The thought that my aunt's family was a 40 minute bus ride away in San Pedro Sula was comforting if I had any problems or just wanted to escape Cofradia. But the experience I gained as a first year teacher is incomparable to any I would have had in the United States. I came to Cofradia fresh out of college, with a degree in Elementary Education and a specialty in ESL. I had done student teaching in the inner city schools of Boston, the majority of my students from Latino backgrounds. I wanted to better my Spanish and thought the best way to do this was to teach in a third world country where I'd be forced to use the Spanish I did know and give deserving children the chance at learning English. I brought with me the maximum allowed luggage on my flight to Honduras. It was filled with materials I thought would be useful for teaching my class. I didn't know anything about my students except that they would need a lot of recuperation after their not so successful first grade year. In the first week of school, I found that with some students we needed to go backwards before we could make progress and go forward. This class needed to learn first how to be students, respecting their classmates and just how to learn. I would pass out books and just ask that they look at pictures and they cried, literally; I passed out beans to use as math manipulatives to add, subtract or just count and they were thrown across the room. Homework was something they thought should take them hours. Just the idea of having the teacher standing in front of the classroom was too difficult a concept for them to grasp, they begged to just copy things into their notebook. Somehow learning took place in those first few months even with a teacher that had laryngitis more than once. The kids no longer cried when I passed out books; they became accustomed to making up stories to go with the pictures, recognizing words and some actually began reading the words in English on the pages of the books. They began to beg to take the books home and learned how to take care of them. The beans, popsicle sticks, and number tiles began staying on the desks and actually being counted. The idea of getting to use an educational game when work was finished became an incentive to do their work instead of whining that they didn't want to do it. Every day was a challenge. I had a small group of students but in that small group there were emotional and behavioral issues, learning disabilities, and lots of energy to take into consideration when planning. With limited curricular resources it was difficult to plan to meet the needs of each child but every single child showed improvement in one area or another by the end of the year. The rewards outweighed the challenges. My students craved attention and strived to do things to please me. Everyday I was greeted with smiles and hugs. I would receive pictures and notes of appreciation and token gifts; even if they were frogs in my desk drawer placed there for safekeeping! Even those days when you are at your wits end, the kids know just how to do or say something to which you can't do anything but just laugh. They certainly have learned how to turn on their charm! Our days never ended when school ended. There were always lessons and events to be planned, additional help sessions after school and English courses to be taught. In the volunteer house we all shared cleaning and cooking responsibilities. With just a stovetop and the limited ingredients (unlike our modern grocery stores) we had to be inventive. Our dinners often turned into three hour long discussions of whatever was going on at school. Living together, we became like a little family. We all came from different places and brought with us different experiences but came with similar aspirations. We offered each other support, a listening ear, covered for each other in the classroom, made each other laugh and became close friends. The generosity and support by the people in Cofradia is something I'll never forget. The undying assistance from parents of children at school and our neighbors never ceased to amaze me, especially when our means far exceeded theirs. Fruits and vegetables from local gardens would be a weekly if not daily occurrence on our doorstep. Transportation was always offered; they even insisted upon volunteering themselves to take us wherever it was we needed to be. All of the volunteers would rejoice when the frequent invitations came to dine with a family in town; even with families cooking three different meals for one night to accommodate the various eating styles we all had. Medicine and herbal remedies were given to us for whatever ache or ailment we complained about or sniffle or cough that was heard. Advice sometimes turned into lectures we didn't always necessarily want to hear but it came from those who cared about us most and truly were just interested in looking out for our well-being. I will always remember the generosity from these people I'll never forget. Every teacher's first year is memorable but mine was especially memorable. Thanks to all the other volunteers I worked with, the Honduran teachers, those that came for short visits replenishing our supplies, and most especially the people of Cofradia. And of course; Sherlie, Cecilia, Marisol, Clint, Oscar, Christopher, William, Rommel, Melvin, Pablo, Alexis and Daniel; my second grade students whom I certainly will never forget.



Making A Change: A Volunteer's Perspective by Matthew Thornton, 5/6th grade teacher 2001-2002, 5/6th grade teacher & Sub-director 2002-2003. It was early evening on October, 15th, 2001 when we bounced over the rocky dirt roads to the volunteer apartment, and I wondered if my volunteer experience would be this bumpy. In two years, with the support of literally hundreds of people, the metaphorical roads have been smoothed and progress in Honduras made a reality. When I first arrived there was a building with three and a half walls and a handful of children. Now we're working on building additional classrooms, and talking about a high school! Through all the changes there have been some notable constants, the cultural adjustments, the demands of attention hungry children, and the amazing generosity of others. We have been welcomed like family into the community of staff, parents, and locals. We outgrew those first apartments (and got tired of the noisy neighbors), and we found the current "casa de los gringos," as most of the town calls it. Yes there are still roosters crowing and dogs barking, but these fade into the distance.As part of the volunteer team, we share responsibilities like cooking, cleaning, and making each other laugh and see the lighter sides of our days. It's been great living with a group of diverse people, who all have a common goal. As always, the tougher the job the tighter the bond. The job is tough. No doubt. The daily challenge is navigating the minds of the children, to find their needs, their logic, and at the same time manage to put some order in their often otherwise disordered lives. What has kept me going is the pure need that exists. Whether talking about the loss of a family member (as many have lost mothers or fathers), or how to treat one another, or just teaching them how to save a document on a computer, I've seen kids grow. They are bright and eager, and can break your heart with a smile. The broader challenge is creating and maintaining an educational standard that improves the life of our kids, and eventually of other communities in Central America, in a place where the idea to action gap gapes like a canyon in the minds of those who are in places of authority and power. I've seen far too many crowded classrooms (usually they'll have 40+ per), teacher strikes, and elementary school dropouts. Many programs have begun to improve the overall quality of the education here. My good friend Todd Walton was the first to come and see for himself, and left behind a nice (and still growing) computer lab. I remember fondly the school's various dramatic productions, hours spent rehearsing and making props. With donations our library has grown to more than 600 story books. The 2nd annual science fair was a great success, with visitors from another bilingual school from Copan Ruinas; The Mayatan School. The literacy workshop given by our friend Dick Keis brought parents together to learn about reading with their children, and Sandra Osbourne's (soon to be Thornton) Masters in Ed. project is focusing on our children's responses to reading. The list goes on, as you can see if you check out the rest of the web site. Or like many come and see for yourself, I'm sure next year's dynamos would love visitors. Last year we had approximately 6 visitors come to the school. This year we've had 23 visitors! The amazing thing is the support we are finding from so many. Parents, locals, and other volunteers around Central America and back home continuously amaze me with their generosity. Some examples include being invited (almost weekly) to dine with a family in Cofradia, food being dropped off at the house for the volunteers to try out, bunking up in Brooklyn with volunteers from another Bilingual School in Copan Ruinas, volunteers in the states who donate their time to help us collect supplies or money and visit us to see for themselves. There are those here we can call upon for just about anything: rides, advice, construction, entertainment, or how to make a flour tortilla. Kindness breeds kindness, no matter where you are. People sometimes ask me, " how can you work without getting paid?" The fact is that I get paid through my experiences of teaching, language, and culture. I encourage anyone with the means, time, and patience to get involved here or anywhere. Our theme song this year was, "We are the World," which purports that "we can't go on pretending day by day that someone, somewhere soon will make a change." Thanks to all who have stopped pretending and have helped. And for those in the future, there's still work to be done!