Chess Camp, Day 1

I will go hoarse by the week's end, I'd be willing to bet a month's Volunteer Living Allowance.

Today I taught all the rules of chess five times to five small groups of kids ages 10-12.  It really is the perfect age to learn chess: one is mature enough to sit quietly to learn and study the game (or at the very least feign interest), smart enough to capture all the rules in under an hour, and yet young enough to just have fun moving the pieces in unsophisticated fashions around the board.  And the fun for me comes from the one student in each group that shows a genuine interest in the dynamics of the game and the intellectual appeal.  It's especially rewarding to me to be handed the opportunity to, once in my life, pass down the knowledge and experience of something that means so much to me.  On average, in each group of four students, one student was especially interested and showed promise in the further development of his/her abilities, two more students expressed real enjoyment of the game and a desire to play further, and the last student just played along.  But you can be sure of this: 23 more young people in St. Kitts now know how to play Chess than did yesterday. 

As expected, after failing to gather enough (i.e. any) volunteers for my planned training session last week, the Chess demonstration board that I specifically requested for this pursuit did not come through.  Instead, I was relegated to my own oversized vinyl set for teaching the kids how to move and such.  Not that this was a problem for four kids and one adult huddled around a table; I was just careful to not allow them to play on my set after I was done teaching them.  *Shudder* I can still feel their icky school-aged hands all over my chess set.  And also as expected, the money for gourmet catered lunches from Neville's Eatery did not come in, so my lunch today was limited to two hot dogs.  Still, at 1 o'clock and after (essentially) lecturing for three hours at that point, it was delicious!

As not expected, we've had a minor weather system move in from the East, and it was Rainy Rainy Windy Windy all day.  This means that the planned outdoor games in the afternoon was halted.  And you, as wise readers, can extrapolate what that means for 23 young persons' energy levels.  Much like the rain in some places, they were through the roof.  Also not entirely expected, with the apparent dearth of volunteers, I was usually on my own in the Chess classroom, and there were only a handful of volunteers manning the Games room across the hall; one of the planners stopped by only very briefly in the morning and left again, much to the UWI director's consternation.  I'm still not sure what sort of miscommunication went on there, but suffice to say that if we hadn't had a recently dubbed young teacher come by and handle the students that afternoon, I don't expect that anyone would have.

It made for an exciting day, and I really look forward to the progress each of these students will make, particularly tomorrow when we discuss Check, Checkmate, and Stalemate, and the students get to play through their first real match.

Funnyquote Friday

As you know, I tutor about 18 students at Beach Allen Primary in remedial maths.  On Tuesday, when I was reviewing previous Test of Standards questions with my tutees, I came across the particularly salient topic of fraction arithmetic.  At random I chose a sixth grade boy to tell me what the sum of 1/4 and 2/4 was.  But the correct answer of 3/4 came from a different source, and the boy quickly agreed.  Unsatisfied, I asked him why the answer was not 3/8.  I wonder if he thought the question was rhetorical, because he retorted:

"I can't change the laws of math!"

Well, it seems I didn't get around to posting until Friday once again.  I'm sure one of these days something worth posting will converge on a time when I also have a solid internet connection.  Until then, I don't have a whole lot else to add.  Ty the puppy returns to his owner(s) this weekend, but it has been a pleasant run with him as my guest for the last couple of weeks.  Now that I've had occasion to watch over a pair of cats and a puppy in my little 328 sq. ft. corner of this world, I have a better feel for what would be involved in taking in a pet when I finally move Stateside.  Since I'll be moving into the next phase of my life, I foresee myself taking in a cat and proving to all prospective romantic interests that I am responsible enough to take care of a pet.

We EC82 Volunteers were just notified of the due date of our 5th Trimesterly Report, signifying our time is nearly 83.33% complete.  Though the ramifications of moving on in less than six months has hardly scratched the surface of my subconscious awareness, I have already become accustomed to telling people I have a mere five months remaining.  This seems co-synchronously like a suitably long time (to accomplish any other pursuits of mine here on the island) and an alarmingly short time (to find a new job).  I'm hoping that due to some stroke of fortune I can find a happy medium between the two, and the perfect way to do this would be to secure a job of my own before I run out of time here.

Hey, look, it's a glimpse from my perspective.

_

Funnyquote Friday

A good-humored prod made at me on the interwebz the other day:

"Woo Peace Corps! Even lower down the
totem pole than UNDP!!"

I agreed to puppysit for a friend while the Ross Veterinary students are on break.  My new charge is a three-month old island Rottweiler named Ty, who is planning to adopt a Peace Corps couple as his guardians.  But until then, I am the one responsible for pulling the little twerp's nose out of every avenue for mayhem and destruction it can find.  And we both seem to be doing an admirable job of living up to our roles.

I'll be so happy to unwind this weekend with no more thoughts towards these application assignments that have consumed my time and will for job searching the entirety of this last month.  I have completely finished all four deliverables, (1.5 page Statement of Purpose, 4 page Procedural Recommendation, 4 page Application Review, 3 page Performance Analysis) but the damage has been done to my central nervous system: my brain is fried, and I intend on getting back to full strength with a weekend of R&R.

I enjoyed my first mango of the season this morning.  Bright yellow with dark spots means it has fully ripened, and I'm looking forward to the multitude of similar offerings from the mango tree at my office all this month.  In due time, the flamboyant trees will start to fill their canopy once again with needles, creating a large shady haven below their branches that enjoys a 10° cooler atmosphere than the air around it.  Also looming on the metaphorical horizon is this year's hurricane season, when the tourists stop coming and the midday rains and gusts come instead.  My understanding is that scientists are anticipating a light season this year, though judging by their recent gaffes, (at least as far as St. Kitts is concerned) we have every reason to take this year as seriously as any other.

This evening is set aside for seeing off a fellow volunteer who is heading back to the Midwest via Puerto Rico.   She has come to be a good friend of mine, someone I admire for her poise and droll disposition as much as her charm.  I wish her good fortune and faithful friends who were as thoughtful and inclusive to her as she was to me.

The Late Great Update

I'm going to spare my sense of guilt and not bother to look up the exact date of my last post – I know it was some time earlier this month, and that's enough for me.  Better to be proactive in turning this around than to spend time worrying about not.

I say this entirely because this is something I've been spending a whole lot of emotional energy on already this year.  As someone who struggles to find a balance between objective, rational thinking and a healthy expression of sincere emotions, I know that I have a tendency to lose a lot of positivity and productivity when I am confronted with the fear of not living up to my own expectations or, worse, someone's expectations for me.  That fear that has the potential to haunt so much of the work I do here, I find it to be paralyzing – it freezes my desire to move ahead, until the shadow of a fear of anything going wrong has been dealt with.  And, as it would turn out, this is not a realistic way to approach community development.  As I learned firsthand from my Iron Band project, sometimes just moving ahead without all of the pieces clearly in place is, despite all of my expectations, the best course of action.  In that case, I had 10 students to make a band, but no instruments to give them for the first week we met.  I was afraid this would doom the project to oblivion, but instead, we spent the first session just getting to know everyone, inadvertently creating some firm band traditions at the same time, and was equipped with a basic collection of instruments by the next meeting.  Now, however, if this Youth Group idea is to take off, I would need to coordinate the schedules of 5-10 working and busy adults, finding a regular meeting period that doesn't burn out individuals before the project has had a chance to take off.  But, even as I write this, I see the seeds of needless worries, things I cannot control at this stage that probably take care of themselves by the time the problem rolls around.  Or am I right to consider the ultimate outcome of my planning actions?  I just don't know.

There have been some unpleasant developments this month (though none of which are directly related to me, fortunately) that I feel obligated to share: a couple of violent altercations that involved either current or former students of the NSTP, leaving one incapacitated and in the hospital, and the other fatherless.  The most troubling aspect of this is not the coincident timing, but that both victims share the rare quality of being known homosexual males in a society that is decidedly closed-minded on the subject.  The paradigm is so far anti-homosexual, in fact, that even as the one openly gay young man of 16 lay in the ICU bed, thick gauze over one eye and deep gashes on limbs he is unable to move under his own power, I would overhear associates of mine discussing the ordeal.  They would lament his situation and, in the very same thought, conclude something to the effect of, "Well, if he didn't go around parading it so much, he wouldn't be in this situation."  As though his form of self expression was an invite for violent reactions from his peers.  DISCLAIMER: Now, just to be clear, there have been no objective determinations that these events are related in any way, nor am I insinuating that they are.  Only that the proximity in timing was unfortunate and coincidental, and that the mere fact that either happened at all is appalling and saddening.

And now for some good news: I was on Nevis all Sunday morning for the first annual Nevis Half Marathon fundraising event that was put on by my fellow Peace Corps Volunteer's organization, the SKN Diabetes Foundation.  With a big time corporate sponsor in DHL and 100+ participants in only its first year, the event was a near perfect success.  Lots of locals, hashers, students, and internationals came to Nevis bright and early Sunday morning for the 5K, 10K, and half marathon runs, and the winners even went home with a sizable check from DHL.  I did not get to run myself, but instead helped out with logistics, preparation, and just general footwork/manpower.  And while I was a little disappointed that I didn't come prepared to run, I still had a good time speedboating over to Nevis at 5:30 AM, and casually boating back at noon, skirting the length of St. Kitts' Caribbean Seaside beaches.  I had not got to experience that kind of boat tour before, and probably won't get to again; needless to say, it sure beat paying for an hour-long ferry ride!

My parents purchased tickets for their week-and-a-half-long vacation here on St. Kitts, so I'm really excited to finally get to share the island in a tangible way with family.  I trust that, come April, my reports home will come in a very different light to those that experience the island first hand.  I'll check back then to see for sure, but for now, I'm enjoying telling friends that "I'll have trans" for a period in March (that means that I'll have someone who can drive a car) to all the places we usually go, like Tuesday Trivia and a Saturday Hash, as well as to the places I don't usually get to go, like the beach and to nice local restaurants.  Woo vacation time!  It's always nice to have something to look forward to – it's a great external motivator to help me get through each day. 

As a completely unrelated aside, I was working on this the last time I updated, and so I haven't posted it before now.  But it is another attempt at mine at observational humor in the form of a colorful graph.  However, this one isn't really that funny; it's just a look at all of the rock songs I own by year and decade, from 1961-2010.

For someone who says he loves the '90s so much, I'm sure not representing it very well.

And while on the subject of creative output, I am working on the movie for December highlights, and I should also have material for a January movie as well – just as soon as I have the time and gumption to go ahead with them, I will.  So sorry for the delay, and have faith (as I do) that it'll be worth the wait!

P.S.  For the new year, here is a new header.  You're welcome.

Sugar Mas Is In The Air

The cats are earning their keep.  As you may recall, I'm watching my girlfriend's cats while she's on winter vacation in the States.  In under one week that I've been watching them, they've already managed to trap and kill four cockroaches and a centipede!  Nebula is the more personable of the two; she finds plenty of opportunities to find me and rub up against my arm when I am at the computer table (like right now).  Pigeon stays mostly to herself, but they both make their presence felt when it's feeding time.  The effort on my part is miniscule, as it would turn out: cleaning two small litter boxes and feeding the cats twice daily is hardly a chore, and more like fair wages paid in the name of free cleaning service.  (No cobwebs when you have two diminutive, omnipresent wanderers!)  Mostly they're a pleasure to have around, whenever Nubs isn't trying to pull my septum out of my head.

The Christmas concert was Monday the 19th; it didn't offer quite as many "edgy" pieces as last year, and eliminated all of the performances differing from singing a traditional Christmas carol.  Fortunately, my friends and I were in attendance foremost for the music, but I was disappointed to see that, perhaps, the planning committee felt that the free thinking, alternative works of poetry and dance (a few of a more political persuasion, in fact) were not in the spirit of the event.  Whatever the reason, we still enjoyed reaffirming our now veritable Christmas tradition of singing Handel's Hallelujah Chorus as loudly and as functionally correct as possible at the end of the service.  That's one thing that, come this time next year, I expect I will miss about not being here!

J'ouvert was a fun ride again this year.  What with it being my second go-around, I had a jump on most of the other Caucasoids that partook in this year's reveling.  Oh, and before you ask, I'm sad to report I have no picture and video this time, due to my one planning oversight: double-checking to see that the camera I brought along had an actual battery cartridge loaded in it.  Apart from this, the measures I took were largely responsible for the whole day going off without a hitch, so to speak.  I caught a lift to the meeting place no earlier than midnight, which means I had at least 3 hours of sleep before joining the others this time (plenty if you're not planning on staying up any later than noon).  I brought along both food and water this time, as much to sate my inevitable morning hunger as to avoid a regrettable migraine should the threat arise.  Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, I remembered to bring ear plugs along!  I cannot overstate how critical these little devices are at a j'ouvert jump-up.  Lastly, I did virtually all of my alcohol imbibing at the meeting place before going on the march, where the drinks were mostly harder stuff like mixed rum punch and the like.  By writing in big Sharpie® letters on my hand "BEER," I didn't even have to shout my order to the bar-trailer attendants over the cacophony of the soca blaring from over a dozen amps 100 feet away.  In the end, I had the equivalent of 2 beers during the march, which settled in nicely with the principle of always following hard drinks with beer chasers, and not the other way around.  All of this planning went a great way towards making sure I actually enjoyed myself during this year's revelries.  Now if I could just find a girl to wuk up with...

I think Peace Corps are the street performers of the world.  I say this for a couple reasons: first, because the similarities are too clear to me to be denied.  We move from a place far away to a new home, often with little or no experiential concept of the place we're going, and always end up trying to make a living doing some good works under impoverished means.  Even the people we're trying to help ultimately are presented with the choice to pay attention, or else to simply ignore us completely.  And, depending on who you ask, we probably have a comparable success rate.  Furthermore, we choose to live our lives under the wary eyes of the entire community we serve, winning some hearts and minds and confounding others.  Perhaps the last one is not unlike life everywhere for most, but when the only real currency one traffics in is personal contacts, and when one has as pessimistic an outlook as myself, a single bad connection is a tougher drain on morale than half a dozen good ones can make up for.

The second reason I've been cogitating on this is because I find myself at a vulnerable point in my term of service.  With a whole three weeks to devote in part to secondary projects, namely the ones I have let languish as the 2011 work year wound down, I nonetheless prove to have difficulty summoning the emotional energy to tackle them, fearing that my best efforts will somehow prove fruitless.  So instead of being able to address these concerns by actually trying to do the work on a given day, I am hamstrung into lounging around, choosing instead to read Fahrenheit 451, or catch up on my virtual baseball team, or write this blogpost.  Can anyone offer me any clarity on where the fault in my emotional expectations lie: in the inflexible goals that I set for myself before the holiday began, or in the fear that I've doomed my own productivity by not following through on them?  As someone who derives so much of his self-esteem from his own sense of productivity, this question is deeply concerning to me; yet even as I write it, I realize that the true answer is probably a third option that I have not considered at all.

Funnyquote Friday

Overheard at last week's Sports Day:

"You so slow, I gonna lap you in the 100 meters."

Thursday was a change in pace for me: I got to sleep in and at noon headed out to Sandy Point, on the northwest part of the island, to co-teach a couple of Junior High classes using my Math Games.  The 13-15 year-olds received the material very well, and the only difficulty my PCV partner and I had was keeping the sound and energy level at reasonable levels with the larger of the two classes.  All in all, I've gotten great feedback from these trial runs; in addition to improving the material in the process, I'm also gathering requests for access to the ideas.  So hopefully all the work I've put in to this so far will have future pay offs.

After school was out, we trucked over to Old Road, where we met a couple more friends and we all celebrated St. Patrick's Day together.  At a little roadside shack, we engaged in the very Irish Caribbean tradition of lounging at the rumshop and playing dominoes, vigorously throwing down our bones with a loud *CRACK!* on the Formica tabletop.  It was my first opportunity to share in such a uniquely local activity with locals and amongst locals, with local friends and even local strangers who nonetheless recognized me from various local places.  It was not only a great time, but contributed to further my sense of integration in my very small island community.  In fact, funny as it may sound now, a year from now I'll probably be wishing that I had a little more anonymity in my daily activities!