Aigir Part 2

Aigir Part 2,

In 20 rotations of the Earth there are many newsworthy events which take place in the world. Without news from the outside world I sometimes felt like I was under water. I bought a cell phone in Ufa but the signal was incredibly weak in the village. Through Skype my family was able to reach me when I stood in certain areas of the camp and didn’t move more than a few feet away. Every time I heard news of the outside world it was like bursting to the surface of a lake and taking a huge, deep breath of air. Then I would go back under for however long until the next scheduled call.

That may sound extreme, and it is, but it can be strangely nice. We are constantly plugged into the news and the internet, so much that there can be withdrawal pains when we are removed from them. However, when the mental shouts for information begin to subside, there is an eerie quiet left over, an eerie calm. I certainly wouldn’t want to live that way forever, but for a short time I was only concerned with how cold it was in the morning and how sunlight lingered over the mountains until midnight.

I am not a teacher by trade. I have friends who are teachers and never once have they said it was easy. Since moonlighting as a teacher, I now understand why. I have played several different roles in my life but “Teacher” was a new act. When I decided I was going to try this, I asked for a few guidelines. What I was told was “You know English, you can teach it.” To this day I’m still not sure if that’s true, but I tried my best.

I started by determining what my strengths and weaknesses were. I believe I have a fairly decent, innate sense of grammar. I can look at something, as many people can, and know that it’s wrong and how to fix it. I cannot, however, explain why it’s wrong. (I still have someone proofread my work though, mostly so I can blame them if a mistake gets through.) Unless I was going to spend weeks before my teaching gig relearning grammar rules (I was not), teaching those rules was out of the question. Then I wondered about what native speakers have that non-native speakers don’t. The answer was simply that they speak like natives. I decided I was going to focus on the spoken language. Speaking skills were clearly the best product I had to offer.

I wrote out an entire ten day lesson plan. Each day was a new discussion topic with questions and points to hit. I had placed enough information, or so I thought, to fill the 50 minute teaching sessions. One of the things I found out on my own about teaching was that things never go as planned, particularly timelines. Some days I didn’t have enough time to cover half my lesson and some days I had to pull teeth to make my lessons last long enough.

Each day I learned new tricks with which to engage the kids. When I started I always asked them how they were doing to get their minds working in English. While some responded with fine, there were many others who responded in great length about how they were enjoying the camp or how cold it was. I often prompted the kids to engage with each other in discussion about certain topics. When they did this I watched. It was strange to be on the other side of the table. This was my “Walk a mile in someone else’s shoes” moment. It was while I was observing these kids that I realized just how horrible of a student I was in grade school. The problem is that there was no way for me to realize just how bad I was when I was younger. So, I offer this to all the teachers who put up with me on my road to adulthood: I apologize for being a contrary, frustrating, ass of a student. Also, thank you.

As I’ve said, a ten day shift is filled with a lot of things including unexpected events. In the first shift I had the chance to climb several of the mountains surrounding the village and stare off cliffs into the open air. I also had the chance swim in one of the rivers which flow through those mountains. I got to sit up late and drink tea with my fellow staff members listening to Russian folk songs. The bottom line is that this camp was awesome.

On one of the nights I spent relaxing with the staff several of them were cooking pelmeni, that famous traditional Russian dish. After only eating a butter/noodle/meat/water mixture for more than a week something different looked incredibly appealing. I wasn’t a particular fan of pelmeni but I decided I’d ask to try it. They said sure and I tried it. It tasted delicious. I ate some more and felt incredibly satisfied.

If I remember correctly from my Psych. 101 class, the body mind connection is particularly strong when it comes to food-related illness. This was incredibly apparent to me when I woke up around six the next morning to expel all of the pelmeni I had found so delicious the night before. After all the pelmeni was gone I spent the next two and a half days expelling everything else that was in my body. Win (Sarcasm). My guess is that I picked up some sort of virus that the rest of the staff was used to because they were all glowing when I met up with them for the breakfast I did not eat.

That morning I was scheduled to drive the Waz, an old Russian jeep, over a small and incredibly bumpy 18 kilometer mountain pass. Despite feeling awful, I got what I needed together and met up with the two guys who would be my copilot and navigator. One was a camp expeditor/translator student at the university and the other was the handyman at the camp. We push started the jeep and got on our way.

Aigir Part 1

Aigir Part 1,

Давай смеяться, плакать, и икать.

Let's Laugh, Cry, and Hiccup.

As I rode the train out of Aigir to Ufa I stared out the window watching mile
after mile of Russian wilderness roll by. All around me were the children I had
been teaching and bonding with. A young girl was asleep on my shoulder while
two boys were playing games on their cell phones. Across from me was another
girl whose attention was fixed on the girl sleeping on my arm. I looked to my
right and I realized she wasn't sleeping, she was crying. I looked across from
me again and now there were three young girls crying. For a few minutes the
group went back and forth between bouts of crying and intense fits of laughter
as they all traded memories of their time at a camp which they will remember for
the rest of their lives. As the storm of memories, emotions, and contact
information started to ease, my teary eyed seatmate looked up at me and said
"Davai smeyatsya, plakat i ikat." (Let's laugh, cry, and hiccup)

Aigir,

My friend and I threw our gear into the back of the taxi that we hired to take
us to the train station. We were meeting up with the rest of the staff and the
students we would be getting to know over the first shift of the month. A shift
is a ten day interval of summer camp. Although ten days sounds short, it is an
intense package of work, play, unexpected events, and bonding.

We were early when we arrived at the station so we sat down and watched as
students and parents trickled into the main waiting area. The parents were
issuing gratuitous hugs and cheek squeezes while the children acted like
children do, accepting them grudgingly with huffs and puffs of annoyance. As
the teachers arrived I noticed a few I had met the previous year and the
director of the school. I approached and said hello. I was given several warm
welcomes and a ticket for the train. We boarded and were on our way.

The camp is split by train tracks down the middle. Students are not allowed to
cross the tracks, so the shortest distance to the largest cabin is a trip that
has to be made by the staff. Upon our arrival we were enlisted to help carry
the students baggage while they went under a bridge further away from the
station.

I spent the majority of the first day setting up my room and getting to know the
staff and students I hadn't already met. The majority of the staff were
university students from Ufa who had either been to the camp when they were
younger or knew the camp director from the university they attended.

The logistics of the camp were handled by a crew of expeditors. Every morning
they took the train to the nearest village (18 kilometers away) and marched
around with huge hiking bags picking up the necessary items to feed and
accommodate 60 plus people. Not only were they vital to the camp, they were
also great guys I am lucky enough to now call my friends.

With no showers the only way to get clean was in the banya so the director had
employed a student for the purpose of keeping the banya clean, ready, and full
of water. Everyday he carried bucket after bucket of water to fill up the giant
tubs that students and staff would later use to wash off. He was endearingly
named the "Bancheek."

The students were split up into groups both according to their level of English
and their cabin. Each cabin had a staff group leader designated to help out and
direct them in activities. My friend who had housed me in Ufa was to be in
charge of sport activities in the camp. Every morning he led exercises and
activities for the Students motivated enough to get up a little earlier than the
08:30 wake up call.

I say "wake up call" but I really mean that breakfast was at 09:30. Students
were only expected to be at classes at 10:00 in the morning. The students
ranged in age from 7 to 17, so I found it surprising that every minute of every
day was not planned out. There were some activities that students were
encouraged to attend but they were never forced. I found this to be in complete
contrast with my childhood memories of summer camp. I remember waking up at
07:00 in the morning and being hurried off to arts and crafts or some sort of
wilderness skill class. I remember being tired by the time it ended and not
particularly satisfied with my "vacation."

There was a completely different vibe to this place. The kids were relaxed and
happy, and I was pretty relaxed and happy too. Other than the mild pressure of
having to prepare my lessons every day, I was glad I was disconnected from the
Internet and from the hectic pinball game of civilization.