International Student Teaching Spring 2009

The last week was very short for us because it was only about three days including the trip home. Because of the swine flu in Mexico and the risk of flights being cancelled, we chose to leave early.

On Monday we said goodbye to all of our students because they closed the school down. It was very sad knowing that I wouldn't be able to see the kids anymore. We were able to take pictures with the students and I gave the students a way to keep in touch with me. I am definitely going to miss the students.

Tuesday, we just hung out at the house and read a lot of online news about the swine flu. Tuesday night, the CDC warned Americans that they may have to stay in the country until everything ended if they didn't get out soon so we decided to have our flight switched to Wednesday, April 29th. I was very overwhelmed and sad that we had to leave so suddenly but also glad that we had made a decision about whether or not to leave early.

We woke up very early Wednesday to get on the bus to Mexico City. Margarita recommended we wear our masks on the bus and while we were in Mexico City. We thought that was a very smart idea to make sure we didn't pick up anything airborn. When we arrived at the airport we check our bags and then bought food and spent the last time we could with Margarita. When we checked our bags and before we went through security, we had to complete a checksheet of syptoms.

Lindsey and I needed to finish up some souvenir shopping so we did that inside the terminal. After we our plane took off, some people took off their masks but I decided to keep mine on the entire flight. The flight was long but not bad, even though it was a full flight.

Coming home was very weird for me. I definitely experienced some reverse culture shock adjusting to everything at home. I really enjoyed my trip and will never experience the things I did in Mexico again. I learned a lot about the culture and the schools.

I was not sure what to expect when I arrived to Costa Rica. However, it did not dawn on me until I saw my schedule that I was like an elective teacher here in NC. What I mean by that is I had break throughout the day and I would teach multiple grades. I really enjoyed this. When I walked into my 1st, 2nd, and 3rd grade classrooms I felt overwhelmed and useless. The students did not understand that I did not speak or understand Spanish because they continued to come and talk to me. I just simply smiled and said No Se y Lo Siento!! I found out through the first week that learning a second language is very difficult but being immersed like we were it was the best way to learn.

Students in Costa Rica do not have a choice of which language they want to learn. They only have English as an option. For the grades I interacted with I learned that repetition and repeat after me is how the students learn English. They have textbooks that the teacher follows with because it gives a good foundation. The book has a pronunciation topic to introduce like long e sounds. then a story is give where the teacher reads it. The sound has many words about the particular topic. However, the teacher takes it further by going more in depth with the story and learning the vocabulary of the story and asking comprehension questions. The teachers I worked with were great!

It is possible and not hard to teach students without all the fancy manipulatives and technology... is what I Iearned in Costa Rica and is different from what I already new. I have been surrounded by manipulative and technology that I have seen many classroom teach without all these things. And the students learn just as much and it is not as hard as some people say.

The teachers wanted to learn English and communicate with us. After we were there for a week more teachers would try and communicate and see how they can help us and vice versa. By talking with others we all agreed the difficult part about each others language is not understanding it but speaking it. The pronunciation for the same letters in each others language is different and that is hard to adjust to.

I really liked the unity of the school teachers. Every Wednesday school is dismissed at 12:00 so that the teachers can have a meeting. It is similar to a faculty meeting but since it is a private Catholic school, they discuss their lives and God. They all help lift each other up when problems arise outside of the home.The teaching methodology is similar to ours in the fact that you teach topic by topic and not overwhelm the students.

However, one main difference is discipline. They have a universal discipline plan but the students are very rambunctious. The organization of the class is not in place and I know the English teachers are looking into other methods. They are looking at different state's discipline plans and they want to change theirs sooner than later.

I learned that at first things will be difficult but keep at it and will soon become easier. This was
true for me learning Spanish and for teaching my students. It was difficult but I wanted to learn so therefore I did. I learned that I am a good teacher and by continuing to learn I can be a great teacher.

Where you live affects what the students are going to learn because the best way to teach is by relating the information to them. So in science they learn about animals Costa Rica has first then goes into similar animals around the world. Same for Social Studies, as in they learn there history first and then learn how other countries has affected them. Also they environment that you teach in affects how you teach. If the school is a more active and hands-on school then you will tend to teach that way. Everyone's culture has different morals so in Costa Rica every kid goes to school because that is important for their future. Culture plays a large role in what is being taught and what is not being taught.

When I arrived back at school on Monday, I was saddened to learn that one of my fellow teachers, Adriana, had miscarried over the vacation. She was unable to teach for at least a week, so Lourdes (aka Lulu) asked me to take the classes. Lulu and I planned to teach the classes as a team, which is my favorite way to teach. Although some of the classes were business classes, taught in English, we focused on building the students' fluency with tricky tenses that Adriana had identified as difficult for them.

The first step was to figure out which classes Adriana had when and with which students. At D'Amicis, this is much more difficult than in the U.S. schools where I've attended or worked. The system is that students have "their" classrooms. They mostly stay in one room, and the teachers move from room to room. However, for classes taught in English (U.S. History, Reading and Writing, ESL, and Business and Management), the students are shuffled into different groups based on their proficiency in English. Also, each day means a different class schedule.

So, on Monday, Adriana's schedule may be a 45-minute ESL class at 7:20 a.m. with 3rd-year students (12th graders in the U.S.), followed by a break, then a double class (90 minutes) of Business and Management with 2nd-year students, another break, and a 45-minute ESL class with 1st-year students. Each day is a totally different schedule, so the teachers in the English department often look at the schedule and exclaim, "Oh, I have a class now!"

This is a class of 3rd-graders (equivalent to 12th grade in the U.S.). The boy in the right front of this photo has been "called-up" by Mexico's version of selective service to be trained by the military every Saturday morning "to learn how to march." He also attends lectures on military procedures and hierarchies. Margarita's son Mario also was selected. Part of Mario's training was doing community service projects, building teamwork and responsibility.

I was impressed with the students' proficiency in English, which is much more advanced than I remember experiencing when I took Spanish in high school and college. I was delighted to be of help to the department and to be teaching the students, as well as to be able to work with Lulu. Each day meant learning something new--even if it was a commonsense, simple lesson.

One of my lesson plans included a cultural exchange discussion, to help students polish their conversational skills. We discussed the cultures of Mexico, the U.S., and other countries that the students had visited. I learned about differences and similarities along with the students. I was amazed (as before) with the affection between the students and their teachers. I explained about how in the U.S., students are never to be left unattended by a teacher, even in the 12th grade, and that teachers and students do not regularly hug or kiss one another on the cheek as they do in Mexico.

They told me that in Mexico, there are no laws against littering, and they are considered adults at a younger age than in the U.S. Also, many young adults in Mexico live with their parents until they get married. This photo is of Remy (in the cap) and his small group working on their Venn diagram of cultural differences.

The English office, where the teachers gather, meet, have their breaks, and prepare their lessons, is a busy place. Students come in and out throughout the day to ask questions, print their assignments, visit with the teachers, and turn in work. One student, Daniela, delivers salads. She's 15 and in the segundaria or middle school, which includes up to what would be the 9th grade in the U.S. One of her school projects was an "Impulsa," which is sort of a Junior Achievement project (as we called it when I was in high school).

She developed a business selling salads. Her mother provided her with a capital investment and still helps her with the administrative details. Daniela takes orders for her mixed lettuce salads. We can order them with olives, chicken, egg, cheese, bacon, croutons, balsamic vinaigrette, or a homemade cilantro dressing. And after buying 5 salads, we get the 6th one free. She delivers to the office and takes up the plastic containers to be reused. She's a very impressive young woman who took a school lesson and created a real-life business for herself.

This photo is of another group working on their Impulsa project: lamps made with recycled materials. Lulu is on the far right.

At the end of the day, diligent students take their materials and books with them to do homework.

One afternoon I had a nice surprise. I was staying late in the English office to work on my lessons and create a rubric. I was excited to be going home on the bus with Pedro Pablo and glad to be able to work a few extra hours without distraction. At one point, a man who looked familiar came into the office, asked if Lulu had left, then came up to me and kissed me on the cheek before wishing me a good afternoon.

I realized that I had been introduced to him before--it was Gabriel, who oversees the diploma program (Lulu's boss). I was a little startled because I realized he would be like one of my assistant principals in the U.S. It was a kind and friendly gesture in Mexico, but very different from what my kind and friendly supervisors would do in the United States. (Max, a British man who teaches English at D'Amicis, said when he returned to England after 2 years in Mexico, he actually concluded a job interview by kissing his prospective employer on the cheek. He apologized, she was not offended, and he got the job!)

Friday was my marathon teaching day. Starting at 7:20 a.m., I had five classes (three or four preps) back-to-back with no breaks--not even transition time between classes, because one class ends at 8:05 and the next class begins at 8:05. So, I ran from room to room. Lulu was in meetings most of the day, so I was pretty much on my own, although she was able to help me with errands like retrieving the tape player from the office.

On Fridays, classes end at noon and students can go home. Teachers stay for training until around 3:00 p.m. Because the training was in Spanish, Lulu said I could skip the training--it was about Mexico's teaching standards (like our North Carolina Standard Course of Study). Instead, Alex took the time to show me some of the his artwork that would be included in Miss Laura's exhibition in June.

Although I hadn't been assigned to one teacher or one class, the time I had spent student teaching in North Carolina had helped prepare me to step in and teach. In Mexico, I was involved in classes almost everyday, so I already knew most of the routines. The teachers were all quick to give me gentle advice and kind encouragement. Their modeling and feedback were a great help every day.

After we returned from Metepec, Stephen and I boarded a bus to Veracruz. Margarita had decided that Oaxaca was too far away (and she was concerned about us driving a car in Mexico--she was probably right). She recommended Veracruz, and we were so glad she did!

We made arrangements to stay at Hotel Bello, and enjoyed a taxi ride from the bus station. Our driver, a true Jarocho, as the natives of Veracruz are known, told us about the changes to his city since he was a little boy. The folks at Hotel Bello were very kind, and gave us an excellent room with a view of the ocean. Although few people that we met at the hotel spoke English, all were very patient with our limited Spanish. We shared the hotel with about 100 small children who were in town for soccer (futbol) tournament. We had lots of time to interact with our fellow guests because, we were going up and down the elevator with all the buttons pushed! (Another bit that transcends language and culture, apparently.)

We enjoyed the air conditioning in the room because the drastic change from the dry air of Puebla to the very humid atmosphere of Veracruz was a bit of a shock. We had noticed the terrain changing--and the mountain drop-offs along the road (Yikes!), but didn't think about the humidity until we stepped out of the bus station.

Our visit to this city included important places, like the Acuario, the fort, and the Gran Cafe de la Parroquia. We also found time for relaxing in the zocalo, strolling along the beach and the malecon (the official boardwalk-type sidewalk), and visiting the mall for Rainey's haircut.

The fish at the Acuario were beautiful, and some were VERY large. We remembered those fish when we went swimming at the beach the next day. (Hmmmm...everything we saw in THERE is also in HERE with me....)

We took a harbor boat tour, and in addition to being boarded by a "pirate," we passed the famous sites of the city such as the huge Pemex building, the Isla de Sacrifios, and San Juan de Ulua fort. We saw some of the Mexican navy (a Navy "residence" is here) in a group near the Pemex building. We also saw some truly enormous ships and watched a special crane transferring cargo containers from ships to waiting tractor trailers. Now that's skill.

img alt="veracruz%20fort.jpg" src="http://blogs.rcoe.appstate.edu/projects/intstudteach_s09/veracruz%20fort.jpg" width="320" height="240" />

We had breakfast at the justifiably famous Gran Cafe. The service was impeccable, and the waiter who did not speak much English, was kind to me about my Spanish. I really enjoyed the black bean omelet he recommended for me, and Stephen was thrilled with his feast. The high point of course, was the cafe lechero, served in a glass with coffee and hot milk poured into it with great style. As enchanting as the food experience was, Stephen was delighted to be able to communicate with the waiter enough to learn that his dream was to someday visit the United States.

As we walking or riding in a bus or a taxi, we saw several of U.S. fast food chains. Although the signs lead us to believe that they might be a bit different from what we've seen in the U.S., we were not tempted to partake. And yes, apparently Dominoe's delivers in Mexico too.

Although we saw many people swimming in their street clothes (the beaches we went to were as much for the locals as for us), we did use just our swimsuits when we went swimming. As we lay on the sand, various vendors offered us their wares: mangoes and other fruits, raspados and gloriosas (snowcones and snowcones made with milk), cartoon figures made with pipe cleaners, and rubber chickens, just to name a few.

On the bus back to Puebla, we saw large sacks of coffee beans for sale along the side of the road. Truly, the road back is lined with just the sort of geography that looks like it should grow coffee: fertile, green, and very steep.

On Monday, April 13, we went as planned to the resort at Metepec for a few days. Mario Gerardo (Margarita's son) went early in the day with Cesar and his family to fish at the nearby lake, Amatzcalli. The rest of us drove up in the van. The fishing was good. Stephen and I caught four fish, not really thinking about what we would DO with four fish. But we added them to the fish that Cesar, his sons, and Mario had caught, and we shared them with the group at a restaurant at the lake where they prepare the fish for you and serve it to you immediately.

This is Uriel waiting for one of the huge trout to get hungry.

While Uriel and Uziel were still fishing, Cesar was overseeing the preparation of the fish, and the rest of the crowd were waiting...(l-r) Luis Rene, Pedro Pablo, Margarita, Lindsey, Adrienne, Mario, Connie, and Stephen.

Here, left to right, Uziel, Uriel, Connie, and Cesar prepare to feast on the much anticipated Big One.

The resort itself is a converted textile factory. The sounds from the hallway echo through the huge guest rooms. This is just the reception area.

Nothing is air conditioned, but the windows really open, so the rooms stay cool. The restaurants were wonderful, and so was the elote (corn) sold from a cart near the indoor pool. I chose my elote to be on the cob, which is skewered, then slathered with mayonaise, white cheese, and chili powder. Not what I was expecting for my "healthy" evening snack, but very tasty.

The resort was originally opened for Mexican citizens who qualified for Social Security--you didn't have to be a certain age at that time. It has several pools, a ropes course, musical area, helicopter pad, and peaceful paths to walk among the trees. Stephen and I believe that the original factory must have had beautiful architecture to begin with, but the whole complex shows careful and diligent maintenance.

The town surrounding Metepec has a variety of choices when it comes to finding a decent quesadilla. I went to the vendor recommended by Mario and Luis Rene.

Some of the homes in the town were quite grand, while others were more indicative of a grand past, or a loving family.

Although this looks like a melting Hershey's kiss, it's actually a reminder that Metepec in Old Mexico is like Roswell in New Mexico: known for its UFO sightings.

So the time has come to depart from my amazing family and friends of Costa Rica. Estoy muy triste (I am very sad). I have become very familiar and apart of Costa Rica and wish there was more time here. The final three days at school were very tough watching people become aware of the fact that us gringas were no longer goes to be showing our smiling faces.

The number one question I got was "When are you coming back?" The answer is unknown but the want is soon!! Everyone has offered their home to me when I come back and I would love to take them up on that offer.

The hardest part about leaving was realizing that I would not have the Pura Vida life style anymore and the opportunity to see the ones I grew to LOVE everyday! I am very much missing them and wish they could travel to the states to see how our culture is.

Tuesday was the start of the festivities for us. The school had been bringing money in the previous week and we had overhead through our new knowledge of Spanish that there was going to be a assembly for us. In between classes they had a break where the English teachers had presented us gifts that the school had bought us. This really made our day and very thoughtful of the school.

After school my mom invited over all the English teachers to our house and we had a party. It was a lot of fun and I will never forget it! Wednesday was the hardest day because I had to say goodbye to my family! They have been nothing but helpful and nice to me and the rest of the girls. I was being picked up at school so I had one more time to say goodbye to everyone. I did not want to go but unfortunately I had to. I had an amazing experience and I wish I had more time there.
God Bless Costa Rica!!!

Well, it is wierd to be back. I kinda hate it and love it all at the same time. I feel like I'm more of a culture shock now than I am back to the U.S. than when I was in Costa Rica. Everything is stressed, busy, and pending here! In Costa Rica I had no care in the world... I just taught everyday and lived the life of a tica.

Teaching in another country and not speaking their language was AWESOME! I learned so much about myself and how I can adjust to something totally new. Since the lifestyle was so laid back, I became that way as well. By the last week, I just taught my classes with no preparation because that is how it happens for the most part and loved every bit of it!

It isn't as if the teachers are not doing a good job, it is just different and students are as well. It was hard trying to learn the structure of the school because of how different it was, but by the end I could say, "Everyone needs to be respectful to me or the other teacher," and the students would listen. I started to move students around who would normally being "chatty katty" with and told them instead of talking they need to the listening!

I loved it because I didn't feel as stressed and nervous all the time about teaching, it just happened and flowed out of me. I feel as if my students did learn with me as a teacher. I was teaching one of my classes about possessives and making them hold conversations using those words and sentences. It was fun to be creative each day!

I want to go back and teach again. Without the threat of the swine flu... I'm there. I really loved it and took away so much.

Sarah

Margarita dropped Stephen and me off down at the Zocalo in Puebla. We walked around, enjoying the architecture, sampling the wares of 6 Poniente (I think--I just called it Candy Lane for all the dulcerias and cookie shops), and gazing at the glorious art in Puebla's amazing central cathedral.

We also saw a vehicle that seemed to indicate a very rustic sort of lodging.

We took a break from the sun in the crowded zocalo itself. It's much like the plazas in Italy, except it had lots of trees, as well as huge crowds for the holiday. Vendors were selling what we used to call "knickerbockers"--two resin balls attached to a string that you knocked together in a relentless, headache-inducing rhythm. Balloons and bubble makers were also popular. You could sit on a shady bench and have your shoes shined--but we were wearing sandals. We sat next to Jaime, an older man who had been widowed three years ago. His children were on vacation elsewhere, so he celebrated his Holy Saturday by watching the crowd and sharing his bench with us. He told us of Puebla's trees and climate, and taught us about the culture of central Mexico.

We watched clowns taking a lunch break, and enjoyed a few laughs with a dad trying to get his toddler to partake of a fountain.

We had a great party on "Holy Saturday" with friends of the Gomez family. Cesar here is not only a great grill chef, but also a podiatrist and a folklore/culture teacher. One of his concerns is that the Mexican government literally changes history (as written in the textbooks) when it changes administrations. His focus with his students is on the truth of their own culture as revealed in song, dance, and all things Mexican, even when studying math and science.

Fitting all these people into the garden was amazing! Cesar and his wife Connie have two sons (Uriel and Uziel) who are students. In the photo below, from the left, Uziel (who is also in the self-defense class with Mario) and Uriel joined Lindsey and Adrienne (and Mario, not shown, who is sitting to the right of Adrienne) for a rooftop view of the sunset over Popo (the volcano). There really was room for everyone on the ground, though.

Margarita's brother, Mario Santiago, and his wife, Blanca, also came. Another friend, Lupita, and her daughters Daniela and Alejandra joined us a bit later. Ale, who sells real estate, lives in Puerto Escondido, Oaxaca. She suggested restaurants and offered to be our contact when Stephen and I planned to visit there. Cesar, Lupita, Ale, and Daniela gave us travel advice: Don't go through Oaxaca (city) to get to PE, they told us, better to go to Acapulco and drive down the coast (due to huge curves, much worse than the ones we had encountered on a previous trip).

Toward the end of the evening, we got to meet Pedro Pablo's family: his mother, Porfiria, his brother, Fernando, and his niece Karen stopped by on their way back from their travels. They shared with us some of the oranges that they had brought with them, so we had fresh orange juice the next morning after Adrienne, Stephen, and I enjoyed the 7 a.m. sunrise service on Easter Sunday at Divine Redeemer Presbyterian Church.

Earthquakes. State Department warnings. Civilians in face masks. What was this, you ask? A plague? A riot? Ancient Aztec Gods wreaking vengeance on the irreverence of modern people? No. This was Mexico in the days following the outbreak of the H1N1 (or more commonly called, swine) flu. But, we'll get to that soon enough.

The beginning of what was supposed to be my last full week of school began with a shopping trip in the mall with Adrienne. We had heard vague stories about something happening in Mexico City that shut schools down on Friday, but since we had been in school, we dismissed it as rumor. We looked at all sorts of stores in the mall, with quite a bit more diversity in the types of stores they had compared to American malls. We ate nachos at the movie theatre before we left. The next day we visited the Regional Museum and Planetarium, which were preparing the national celebration of Dio del Ninos (Children's Day). And we headed home to prepare for one more week of school.

Sometime on Sunday, reports of something called "swine flu" begin floating around. Numbers of people hospitalized and dead fill news stories. And somewhere in the mix of things, people began to panic. We heard on Sunday night that Mexican soldiers had been handing out face masks in the city to prevent airborne contraction of the flu. 6 million masks were handed out. However, in a city the size of Mexico City, that left 22 million without a mask.

Monday began with a different feel than usual. We saw people walking their children to school wearing face masks. There were fewer vendors on the streets. We began class as usual with an art lesson, and several students were discussing the swine flu that had mysteriously appeared. At school several teachers were wearing face masks, and just a few students. This made me feel a little anxious. The masks scared me a bit, and if the teachers were wearing them, then it made sense that it would scare the kids also. I didn't put one on until they were passed out to all of the students. Some drew faces on their masks, while some just kept fidgeting with them. And then, less than an hour later, we were told to take them off.

Everyone was already on edge when the alarm went off. Students and staff gathered outside where we learned that an earthquake had hit Mexico City (we learned later that it measured 5.8 on the Richter scale). The principal then made the announcement that the government had decided to close all schools in the country, from day cares to universities, until May 6th. We then returned to class.

Please, answer something for me: If you were a 6th grader, what would be going through your head if you were told you had the next 11 days off of school, but you still had to remain in school for the next three hours? Yes, that is what my students did.

My teacher then announced to the class that, since schools were closing until after we returned to the United States, that it was my last day. My students hugged me and said they're miss me, and we took class pictures. As their parents came to pick them up at the end of the day, I got more hugs and the goodbye cheek-kiss (even though the CDC and State Department did not seem to approve). My teacher also hugged me, we exchanged addresses, and planned to meet again before I left.

We had Tuesday off, and had begun to wonder what we would do with ourselves for the next week until our flight home. All of the tourist places had been closed down by the government. Stores were almost empty of people, and those that were open (movie theatres, Walmart) seemed a biohazard threat waiting to happen. Adrienne and I checked news websites, the CDC, State Department, US Embassy...everywhere we would think of to keep abreast of new developments on what was being called 'a potential global pandemic.' It was when the State Department website began to list the pros and cons of remaining out of the country, and the potential for border closings, that we decided it was time to come home. After an hour on the phone with airlines, tickets were changed, and Wednesday morning we were headed to the airport with our face masks on and hand-sanitizer at the ready.

I was sad for my trip to end sooner than it was supposed to. We had more trips planned, and I lost a good deal of time with my students. However, it made sense to leave the country when we did, to avoid what could have been a serious disease. When we landed in Charlotte, we learned we were not allowed on campus for the 7-day incubation period of the swine flu, just in case we caught it at the airport. With that in mind, we did make the right decision, instead of returning as scheduled and missing graduation. I guess things work out the way they should sometimes.

Oh wow. In just a few short hours, I am going to be getting on a plane and flying south...and west....very, very far west. I've come so far in 6 weeks that I hardly know how to begin. Or end. I guess I'll start with my last whirlwind trip and my last day in one of my new favorite cities.

I decided on Saturday that I wanted to go to Belfast, and go I did. I booked a train from Connolly Station in Dublin to take me the just over 2 hour trip to Northern Ireland's capital. On my previous trip North, when I went to the Giant's Causeway and Derry, I had spent a grand total of about 30 minutes in Belfast, and most of that was inside the bus station, but I knew right then that I wanted to go back and explore more of the city.

The first thing I noticed was that Belfast is so obviously not Dublin. What I mean by this is that the city itself just feels different. Dublin is a globalized city that is growing quickly. It is diverse(ish) and metropolitan and bustling. Belfast contains elements of those as well, but there is a curtain hanging over the city of the intense history and troubles that the city has faced. And even today, these troubles are completely gone. The Protestant and Catholic sides of the city have these fences called "Peace Fences" which are closed and locked tight on nights and on weekends in order to ensure peace between the two sectors, which are literally right next to each other. I could not help but get drawn into the city. It was so rich and deep, I just wanted to take it all in.

I took a bus tour that drove around the city and gave its history, and then went on "The Belfast Wheel," which is basically a miniature of the London Eye, and got a birds eye view of the city, along with about 13 minutes of commentary. I was in a carriage alone, so it was another chance to just soak in what I saw. However, as much as I was loving Belfast, Kathy (my host mom) suggested that I would really like this living history museum about a 15 minute train ride out of Belfast, so I decided to make time for that. It turned out, that this was a very good thing.

The Ulster Folk and Transport Museum has quite literally transplanted a 19th century Northern Irish town and set it up. There is the "town" section and a "rural" section (which felt like I had stepped back into time in the Irish countryside). And, because it was the May Day Bank Holiday, they had May Day celebrations all throughout the "town." If you know me, you know I was right at home.

I spent a few hours there before making my way back to Belfast (ok quick side story: I didn't really know where this museum was, so I went to the tourist office to ask how to get there; the lady told me the name of the stop I needed to get off of at the train, so I bought a ticket and made my way there. Everything is fine and dandy, right? NO. I got off of the train at the Cultra stop and I thought I had gotten off at an abandoned station. There were no attendants, no buildings, no nothing but track. I was out in the middle of nowhere with no idea where I was supposed to be going and out of the country twice over--as Northern Ireland is in the United Kingdom.

Luckily just up the street was an Inn and Spa, the only building around for what seemed like miles and they were able to point me in the right direction, but I definitely had a minor meltdown for a minute there. Back in Belfast, I walked around the city, just to see. It was incredible. The history...I can't even really put it into words, but it blew me away. After a quick dinner, I made my way back to the train station to come back to the Republic of Ireland...and just a different world.

I've been reading a book about the history of Ireland and I just read about the 1916 Easter Rising and the struggles with men like Eamon de Valera and Michael Collins with the English, and then the beginnings of the Troubles in the North, and everything just becomes so much clearer. Did you know that for a long time, Northern Ireland was the "most Irish" part of the country, and that's why the Stuart kings started setting up English Plantations in the North and began to Anglicize it, making it the divided country it is today. Suddenly, all of that is so much clearer to me.

Today, I went to Dublin for the last time of my trip. There were a couple of things I wanted to do that I hadn't had the chance to yet, so I thought I'd better. First, was going to the crypt at St. Michan's Church. It's out in kind of a run down area of the city and so far out I hadn't wanted to walk out before, but I have recently discovered the Luas, a trolley like system within the city, which had a stop like right in front of the church, so I went. Um ok, it was awesome.

There are some natural methane gasses and limestone in the crypt which have preserved the bodies almost perfectly in the coffins. There are four in particular that range from a couple hundred to 800 years old that you can see are just incredible. The 800 year old body is a man who could have possibly been a Crusader, because he was buried with his legs crossed. According to myth, it is good luck to shake his hand. Now obviously, they wouldn't let us shake his hand, but a slight graze of the finger is considered the same....so....I touched the hand of an 800 year old Crusader. Awesome. Not even kidding. Then I went to the Decorative Arts and History Museum, which was just one Luas station next to St. Michan's. That was really cool too, just my kind of thing. They had a really interesting exhibit on the 1916 Rising, which was perfect timing for me.

And now here I am, 11:24 at night and I fly out at 10:55 in the morning. This has been a great trip. I don't feel changed; I'm not the kind of person who is going to change her entire life over one trip, but I am taking away something from it. For one, I'll be the only World History teacher in North Carolina to teach Irish history along with everything else. For another, I've learned to travel alone and not panic.

I appreciate my Jeep much more too--I have taken 7 different forms of public transportation since I've been here. And surprisingly enough, I appreciate American history much more. I appreciate what we stand for and how far we've come in so short a time. I appreciate what the American Revolution really accomplished. There are two Irish "rebels" buried at St. Michan's who lived at the same time of the American Revolution. Our guide was telling us how they failed, were captured, hanged, drawn, and quartered (a gruesome process that I am going to spare you the details of if you don't know them). Had they succeeded and lived, they would have been known not as rebels but revolutionaries--as Founding Fathers.

Had our own Founding Fathers failed, they may have held the same fates as these two men rather than becoming writers of the Consititution, Presidents, Secretaries of the Treasury, Senators, ect. But most of all, I'm going to take away a richness of culture that is so entrenched in its people that it exhudes from them. That's why I love the people here so much. That's why I've grown to love Ireland more than I thought I would. That's why I'll be back.