I've been a bit bad with my blogging for the past month. However, there's no cause for complaint because, among blogging volunteers, I've kept up pretty well. A lot of my colleagues fell off after only few months, and have gone a year or more without any update.
Sadly, there's not too much to report. It's unfortunate to think that in a month of volunteering, self-discovery, ups and downs, seminars and trips to different parts of the country about which you know so little, I feel that nothing is that important, at least not enough to warrant a blog post. Life often feels like repetition of the same mundane routine over and over. That's certainly the case most of the time. The teacher strike worsens that sinking feeling of worthlessness.
One potentially commendable characteristic of this country is that when people are upset, when they have grievances, they take to the streets. Whenever indigenous communities feel misrepresented or ignored, they go on strike, block roads, make news. That's the same for any population, regardless of race or socioeconomic status. When protest and action unifies the country, it's quite a site to see. Back a while ago when the country was privatizing the Colón Free Zone (the biggest duty-free zone in Latin America), people rioted. The government responded by repealing the law within days. They did something relevant, although the cost was three casualties, one a nine year-old boy. However, that mindset is something that carries over to all aspects of public life. Whenever working professionals have grievances like unfair dismissal, low wages, or poor conditions, they threaten to go on strike, to the point that the term is passé. This is what often happens, and has happened with teachers this time around.
Teachers and professors are ostensibly protesting a new law which would allow privatization of education in Panama. That demand has been met, and the law repealed. Yet they continue to strike. Among other issues in their posters calling for action are poor conditions in schools (often no running water or electricity), low, unfair wages, etc. The poster even denounced the Minister of Education, saying that poor schools had no walls while she "decorated the walls of her office." Their grievances are certainly a reality. Many volunteers live and work in communities without access to basic essentials. However, the Ministry of Education isn't a massive stronghold of the country's wealth. Far from it...there's barely any money anywhere outside the capital, and little outside the hands of those running the canal. Furthermore, the teachers cause collateral damage.
1) They call other professionals to join their strike, including doctors and store owners. I'm not sure how much it affects all populations, but when doctors and other professionals in cities of thousands take time off, it places the burden on others who get overworked, underpaid, feel upset...and the vicious cycle continues.
2) More salient than that (in the context of my work) is, of course, the students. Whenever the teachers strike, students still go to school. Many, especially during the early stages of the strike, walked all the way to our school (some walked from as far as two hours away) only to find out there were no classes. They then had no choice but to turn around and go back home. Most teachers at both the schools in my community are still working, as are many across the country. However, the few teachers on strike still throw a wrench into plans. If a few teachers don't show up, that means free periods without class. It adds to the already lackadaisical feeling surrounding school. Students run around unattended, playing marbles, jumping on and sliding down from the playscape, pushing and shoving and pulling hair and throwing punches at each other. Chaos. And teachers dismiss it as someone else's problem. When they're not sitting at their desks, "teaching," i.e. yelling for kids to copy faster and be quiet, they're ordering someone else to get them breakfast from the lady at the kiosk, or lunch from the women who rotate shifts to prepare food for the students. Classroom management beyond yelling and insulting only occasionally factors into the equation.
The strike is an excuse, among a list of excuses that breeds an evil known as pereza, or laziness.
"TENGO PEREZA," or "ME DA PEREZA." I'm bored. This bores me. It's what they say when Monday rolls around and they don't want to teach. It's what they say around 10am, when there are still two more hours of work. It's what they say when they don't FEEL like teaching. It demonstrates the true problem, which is that many teachers couldn't care less about their work. And who suffers? The exact people they are supposed to be serving: their students. I disagree with the methods, and the strike in general. As a volunteer, though, I can do nothing except continue to struggle in a classroom setting where laziness is often more infectious than positivity, creativity, and initiative.
SO WHAT DO I DO???
I have no choice but to be selfish, do a few things for me, travel on weekends, focus on projects more likely to succeed, leave site a bit more often, and many other things. It's hard to swallow, especially considering that we came to Peace Corps to serve others. Slowly, we realize that we also serve ourselves, and there's nothing wrong with that.
My current project, a Readers Theater competition, involves students reading children's stories in English in groups on stage. It's already shaping up to involve nearly a hundred students, which is far more than other competitions in which students participate. As of right now, it's just about the only thing I do at school. I work with kids on the scripts, reading and refining, then nothing else. One, two class periods at the most. It's important enough to me, though, that I continue. The competition would involve taking a group of ten students to Santiago to compete against their peers from around the province. It's a great opportunity, but inertia and resistance to try something new gets in the way. We volunteers keep at it nonetheless.
We keep going. The two-year commitment is a marathon, and we push on.
