Dias Bastante Lleno

The days continue to be long, brimming with meetings and introductions and long commutes, but we are all learning a lot about the situation we're in.  Early on Thursday, while we were enjoying our beloved coffee break, a small demonstration of government employees marched to the gates of the Ministry shouting for higher wages or shorter hours or something.  Mi ignorancia del idioma me mantiene en la oscuridad.  We concluded our day's training with a detailed lecture on the makeup and import of the four or five weekly data collection forms that will be our burden, apparently.  No one was happy about it, being drafted as Ministry spies.  The role may substantially corrode the trust of the teachers on which our educational work depends.  They will already view us as outsiders.

Thursday evening pretty much rocked.  We taxied into the center of Lima to visit Escuelab, a forward thinking art and technology center full of artists, nerds, and hipsters.  The kind of place I can believe in.  Kiko, one of the head techies, showed my a dirt bike turned robot with an XO for a brain and explained how such a place comes together and the intensity of his work there.  A tall rockin' video student named Clara and I shared out work and bad attempts at each other's languages.  These two OLPC veterans from Finland gave us a run down of the hang-ups we're bound for in our deployment, very much confirming our suspicions of the Ministry and worry over interacting with teachers.  It seems Peruvian schools are fraught with corruption, procrastination, and a somewhat deserved hierarchical distrust, at least from these Europeans' perception.  Dyhanna was very much distressed by one of the slides presenting Peruvian culture as deceitful.  The Finlander - his name's Sabastian, a swell guy - admitted his mistake.  To me deception is far more human than Peruvian, and shouldn't be any surprise.     

Friday was a new day.  We woke up before the sunrise for a long bus ride into the mountains surrounding Lima where a rural school is incorporating XOs into their curriculum.  The whole drive smelt of exhaust like I don't understand.  The Brit and I stayed awake and got to see some urban street life, the kind that reminds me of how strange America cities can be for not crumbling.  We're such space invaders here.

The mountain school, nested among lush peaks and a blue sky, was preparing for a dance competition and all day the same snare beat dominated the courtyard while the dancers worked out their steps.  From what I could tell the kids love the XOs so long as they can just play, and play isn't a trivial thing.  Dhyanna, Tiffany, and I followed some 4th graders around the vegetation and ruins around their school as they took pictures of local greenery on their laptops.  This one little booger, who kept following me around, asking for my thumb drive, which didn't have any use for him anyway, was the most adventurous, jumping down the hill to get closer to the cactus.  When we got inside we saw some problems.  The laptops were a major distraction, frustrating the teachers attempt to move the lesson forward.  The kids just want to play games, especially that little booger.  Some of my fellows later explained that this is just how schools work here.  Nothing much gets done, and such a beautiful place to do it.         

Now to the other end of the spectrum.  There's this magnet school outside Lima where the best students  come to prepare for college.  We were shown around by a sharp and enthused administrator in lavender.  I like the picture of her below, but it doesn't reflect the place.  The students live on campus, which features recreation, pool tables, technology, and even Korean style martial arts.  One of the classes asked us to come in so they could gander at the tall foreigners.  Adam was most noteworthy for his height and pronounced Britishness.  We sat down with a few dozen kids from the region of Ancash where our work awaits us.  They told stories of their music and parties and hopes and food; gato frito, aka fried cat, seriously, I can't wait.  These kids are so happy and grateful, even when they miss their home.  They want to lift their country up and they got the brass to do it.  But there's all that power outside threatening sameness and they're going to need a lot of help from somewhere.  Maybe providence.  I'm rooting for them anyway.  

More bus ride and then cock tails in the bosom of yuppiedom.  The main boss man of education technology in Peru had us over to his place, a suburban castle in a gated community with a dog kept behind the fence and a turtle left to wander.  Some hired help cooked up potatoes and cows heart - que rico - with these syrupy donuts for dinner.  I'm always grateful for a good meal, but the day had worn me thin and I was ready to get a buzz on a pass out.  And then there's all the poverty we've been watching out our passing windows and this luxurious backyard, while of course amicable, got me gritting my teeth.  Most of my fellows went out for dancing that night but I was not in the swing of it.  I think my characteristic social ineptitude is beginning to weird them out.  They are not the first.  They're bound to read this sooner or later, so let me say I'm sorry, it's my nature, and you ain't no dish of peaches and cream yourself.  Nothing but love.   

We've caught a lot of perspectives on our work.  It's going to be hard and everyone has an opinion on it.  And it's already Sunday as I'm writing this.  More soon.