De ansiedades y demás yerbas

Acabo de visitar nuevamente el blog de una hermana del corazón, y me encontré leyendo una descripción medio fumada pero SUPER artística de la ansiedad que padecemos aquellos que la incorporamos como un "desorden".
Y hablando de ansiedades...ayer tuve visita al ginecólogo que atiende mi embarazo y a pesar de que le pedí que no me dé la fecha de parto aún, el MUY insensato de mi esposo se la preguntó en mi presencia...rayos!!! Yo que estaba cuidando mi umbral de desesperación!...falta un mes y 20 días que se pueden convertir en menos si mi organismo lo decide así. Para colmo de males...mi shrink se toma vacaciones durante toooodo Septiembre.
Entonces yo me pregunto: Y ahora qué hago????
Vuelve a atacarme la sensación de que nadie me entiende, solo mi sister que está a muchos kilómetros de distancia y mucho no puede hacer. Mi esposo me mira como si estuviera loca, mi madre me repite incansables veces que no me haga problema y mi cuñada semi-nueva me quiere llevar a una endocrinóloga!
No quiero tomar medicamentos! Ni del psiquiatra ni de una "yuyera". Lo que más quiero en este momento es que dejen de presionarme en la escuela con la insensata pregunta de "¿Cuándo tomás la licencia?" Si tienen tanto interés por saber ¿Cómo es que no se pudieron grabar el 19 de Septiembre de las millones de veces que contesté lo mismo?
Por desgracia, en términos generales, la gente no entiende a los que tienen "trastornos de ansiedad", nos ven como a locos, desequilibrados y hasta peligrosos. No entienden que el único inconveniente radica en la imposibilidad de manejar esa ansiedad, en la necesitad de no esperar, de que TODO (lo importante y lo no tanto) se resuelva YA.
Entiendan de una vez por todas que no estoy loca, solo un poquito apurada. Tengo paciencia de sobra para enseñarles a mis alumnos y tratarlos mejor que el resto (yo los trato como "adolescentes/personas" los otros profesores en general, sólo como "alumnos"), pero no llego ni al 1% de paciencia a la hora de esperar.
Resumiendo y para dejarlo más claro, me puedo colgar del dicho "El que espera, desespera"...
Si para cualquiera esto es común, para mi lo es aún más.

My days as teacher, tutor and patient gardener at Escuela Normal

Yes, I finally got a job!!! My coming baby was not a problem to get it. I'm happy, I'm proud of myself, I want to scream, cry and laugh. I'm HAPPY!!!!
I have six groups, all different, but all adolescents. My favourite kind of students.
I've been working for a month and every day has been a blessing. Sometimes I have to tell them off because they don't want to do ANYTHING but in general terms they work with me without effort.
My pregnant belly is the star of the show. By touching it, they show me their feelings, by letting them touch it, I show them mine. I always try to keep my smile, in fact it's quite easy because I'm all the time enjoying my moment in front of the class, and my students seem to enjoy the same because our classes are a real learning experience. I don't have to yell at them, because when I stand in front without saying a word, they show me their respect by staying completely silent.
I've been teaching them only for a month, but I have already fallen in love with all my students, I still cannot make a distinction between the good ones and the bad ones, but honestly, I hope I never do it. I have to recognize that those who are bad in English are the cause of my worriment but only because I want all of them to learn.
I hate when I have to draw a cross by their names because they haven't done their homework or they haven't brought their material to work in my class, but I know that I have to do it...and I do it.
Yesterday I had my first unfriendly encounter with a mother that was resistant to accept the idea that her daughter is not doing anything more than talking with one of her classmates in my class. The woman was really upset and quite altered, I had to ask her to calm down because her daughter's situation wasn't my fault. Anyway, at some point I was afraid because I thought the mother would hit her daughter in front of me. She was really altered. Maybe if I hadn't had my pregancy she could have tried hitting me...
Anyway, I'm still extremely happy for this job, and I hope it lasts longer than it is supposed to.

Current situation: UNEMPLOYED

My days are flowing in an awkward way. I'm pregnant, which makes me really happy, but I'm also unempleyed due to my pregnancy.
On one hand, I understand that it's a problem for some institutions to employ me, but on the other hand, I also feel that I'm being discriminated. Nowadays my options are to wait for a teacher to retire, and a friend giving me some of those hours, or wait for open calls to cover a position at the province. In other words, I'm in a stative situation which I'm not acustomed to.
I'M BORED STIFF!!!!!
I don't know waht to do. I'm reading, but reading is not comparable to the rushing times I had last year. I want to do something! I want to be outside. Being at home all the time makes me feel sick.
Anyway, I hope this situation changes in some way at some point, either because I find something to do or because being at home stops being a burden.
See you soon!

Pics to enjoy with Charlie's gift

My days without you...my classmates

I cannot stop thinking about all of you, my friends, my pals, my fellows, my brother and sisters, my classmates. I'm studying and I'm thinking about you. It would be easier to send you a message, but you know me...I don't want to bother you, maybe you are studying and you don't want to be interrupted...I have some things to share with you...
My laptop broke my heart last Friday...in fact it was as if I had shot myself and let my body bleed quietly till the end. A glass of water fell on the keyboard while I was putting a folder in order...in my desperate insanity, I unplugged everything... the web connection out, mouse out, electricity out... I turned her upside down and shook it to remove the poison...but some drops were still there, refusing to abandon ship. As I said, I was desperately insane...I started crying because my laptop was my arm's extension, as my brother says. I'm still owing money I borrowed to buy it...she is young, like a baby...on December 7Th will be only 6 months old...I'm a murderer! When I saw that those drops wanted to enter between the keys I really wanted to die...I didn't know what to do... Air...I need some strong air to dry them all...the hairdryer...warm not hot, in case heat burns the keys...it was not getting dried...I put it closer, but I couldn't see the keys...
When I put the hairdryer out...the beginning of my real misery was in front of my startled eyes... the keys were melting!
I called my brother...crying. My father picked up the phone at the other end of the line. 'Daddy, is Rober there?'...'Yes, but what happens? You don't sound well'...I told him about my stupidity and he seemed distressed. My father woke up my brother, and my brother just wanted to kill me. The only thing my brother kept repeating was 'COMMON SENSE! WHERE'S YOUR COMMON SENSE? I thought you were intelligent! How could you be THAT stupid?!'
I remained mute, I didn't have the strength to answer, I didn't have anything to answer. I couldn't explain even to myself how could I have been THAT stupid...
The computer was working, and I didn't want to turn her off, in case she didn't want to start again. Only the volume keys stopped working, the rest from that deadly corner where loose and waved, but working properly.
My brother wanted to kill me, but started making phone calls to Buenos Aires and Bahía Blanca, where the best experts he knows are. After some minutes, he called me to say that we should send my baby to Bahía Blanca to have her full keyboard changed. The cost...around $450... and I still owe money! What could I do?
My beloved father, who has always been my angel, told my brother to do whatever it takes on his expense.
Meanwhile, I also found out that the video I made for our graduation dinner was broken during a formatting of my computer the day after the dinner, and I couldn't fix it. I tried for more than 3 hours to do it again, until the programme got stuck and I lost everything again. When this happened I was overwhelmed by such misfortune, but a light came down from heaven and I remembered that I had copied the video on Raquel's pen, just in case my laptop didn't work with Charlie's projector.
I called Raquel praying for her not having erased it, and thank God...she still got it.
Mi nick on messenger was: 'I would kill for a time machine...but I've just seen a weak light at the end of the tunnel'
Recovering the video that took me months to prepare, was a sign that not everything was lost.
Don't worry my friends, I have already recorded our video on a DVD so it is finally safe.
In what's related to my laptop, I'm writing on her at this moment, but having some difficulties with 'P' and 'Erase' keys which are not working as easy as they used to. Today my husband took her to an engineer which is working with him and maybe...I have a happy solution soon!
See you!
Keep in touch, and enjoy your days as much as you can...you never know when stupidity strikes you!

The first Part of the video

Here it is my dear friends...the first part of our graduation video. Enjoy it until I manage to post the rest.

Love

Pato

P.S. In case you want to include it as part of your blog, this is the address:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dEp2bZ1oFyw

A week's nightmare

I'm starting school tomorrow, first grade, and I'm quite excited to meet new people. I hope my new teacher is as good as my kindergarten teacher. And my classmates? Are they going to be nice with me?. Anyway, I'm going to sleep now, my mom is telling me off because it's 11.30 p.m. and I'm not sleeping yet.
‘Good morning Miss Maria!!!’ Miss Maria told us that we have to greet her everyday in the same way, to show respect, you know. Oh! I'm the tallest in my class...nice! I look older than the rest! I can reach places which are forbidden for the short ones, but I don't like sitting in the back row of our class.
What is that? I'm listening to Miss Maria, but I cannot see what is she drawing on the board. Maybe if I close my eyes a little bit I can see better... Yes, I can! But it's tiring to be all the time like this...I'll take Carolina's seat, she is supposed to be sitting two places in front of me, but today she didn't come.
I'm a little better, but my teacher told me to go back to my place...I'm sad, where's my mummy? That woman... Miss Maria, you know, she is mean! She doesn't like me because my mother is not all the time at school. My classmates' mothers are...Marcela's mother is here, Laura's mother is also here, where's my mother? I really want to cry...but I won't. I won't cry because I'm not that weak. I'm going home now and I'll be better tomorrow.
Today I got dressed in a hurry and asked my father and brother to hurry too, because I want to arrive at school before the rest of my classmates. I want to sit in a better place. After all, sitting at the back I feel like a shadow. Miss Maria only talks to the girls sitting in the first three rows.
Nice, this is my chance, there's nobody else, I can choose wherever I want to sit!...’ No, Marcela, I want to have this seat, go to the back and sit in my place!’ Oops! Marcela is crying... I don't care, I didn't do anything wrong! Marcela's mother is coming! My God, she is a tall woman! I hope she won't dare to hit me, I'm afraid now. My chest sounds as if I had horse galloping inside. I’m trembling. I’m sweating. I'm trying to explain to this woman that I cannot see quite well from my seat, I understand that I'm as tall as a tree, and the little ones sitting behind me only see my back. I need someone to listen to my excuses. I've been suffering from a similar misfortune since the first day. My notebook is almost empty, I'm tired of being told off at home because I never finish taking notes in class. I really want to learn, I want to learn how to read. I don't like waiting for my parents having time to read me a short story! I'm tired of just imagining a story from pictures! I want to read!!! At the back I'm not learning...where's my mum?
My teacher is coming and Marcela's mother is rushing towards her! What is she going to say?...I'm in trouble...Oh, my God! I've been naughty, and if my mother finds out, I'll lose my dolls! I don't want to lose my things, I just want to learn! I'm desperate, I want to cry... I've never cried when my mother abandoned me with Miss Maria. I'm not a cry-baby, but Miss Maria is coming to tell me off...OK, I'm already crying...’No, Miss Maria...I just want to sit here... because I cannot see the blackboard... from the place I'm supposed to be sitting, I'm sorry, I didn't do anything...please, don't call my parents, I promise I'll go back to my place...PLEASE, don't call my parents, they'll be upset with me!
Nice! The horses are disappearing. Apparently, she understood everything! Marcela is sitting behind me... but I'm having a note to my parents. What does it say? That's why I want to learn how to read. I don't like not knowing if I've done something wrong. What's the note about?
My parents are coming with me to school. Miss Maria asked us to copy some words from our book, while she speaks with my parents... I’ll finish in a hurry to go and see what is happening outside... "Mi mamá me ama, mi mamá me mima, mi mamá amasa la masa"... Ready! Now I want to know what they are talking about! Oops, my parents’ faces are not so good. What have I done wrong? If she understood everything yesterday, why is it that my parents are looking at me as if I were about to die?
We are at a doctor's office now. Am I sick? I don't feel anything. In fact I'm feeling quite good. Why am I here? No, doctor, I don't know how to read yet, I cannot learn anything because I'm sitting at the back. Oh, but I know that drawing! It is an "A", yes, and that other in an "E"...Mom I know how to read! I already know how to read! It’s great, isn’t it?... But the tiny ones are blurred. I cannot see them. I'm sorry, I'm a complete ignorant... Glasses? No, I don't need glasses, no doctor, I don’t want them!... OK mummy, don’t be upset. I’ll try them on... Oh! I can see the tiny ones now. Yes doctor, I can see perfectly well. That's a "P" which is my name's initial, and an "M" like the one I need to write "Mamá". Thank you doctor, it didn't hurt.
I'm happy now. I'm the only one in my classroom with glasses. I'm special. I can sit at the back without problems.
Marcela, you've been a mean person. Stay in your ugly place, I don't like it anymore. You are mean and I'm special. I have glasses and you don't.

Four Funerals and a Wedding

I've been blessed in my life in many ways, but the one I'm more amazed about, is the little amount of important loses that I've suffered.
Four funerals and a wedding may seem a satire to the title of Hugh Grant's movie, but it's not. That's the real amount of important events that I experienced in the last eleven years.
In 1996, My father's mother died after suffering for three months due to an intra-hospital virus. Everything started on March, 3rd, a day before her 51st wedding anniversary. She went to her living room to put the China on the table, because she wanted to have a perfect celebration the next day, but on her way through the long corridor of the old train-like house, she missed a step and fell down breaking her hips.
Her wedding anniversary was beyond her expectancies. She spent it hospitalized. But with the whole family around her. Some days later, she went on surgery to try to fix her broken bones, and it seemed to be perfect. She was sent to her house, and the doctor advised her to start walking as soon as possible. She tried. She walked in pain for a week, until my mother and my father's sister realized that something was wrong with her injury. She was admitted again in the same private hospital, but the doctors discovered that she had a serious infection, and they had to remove the gadget that was implanted in her hips to help her walk again.
From then on, everything went down, she never went back home, she only travelled from I.C.U to a common room and back. On June, 24Th 1996, after a strange dream I had in which she cried to me asking for relief, at 1 p.m. she died in peace.
On February 5Th, 2000, I got married. Against everyone's predictions and expectations, I got pregnant and neither my parents, nor my husband's parents could refuse the idea anymore. They agreed on the decision we'd taken eight months before, when we secretly got engaged. My life was great, I was in love, I was pregnant, I was finally getting married. I would stop lying to my parents in order to have a moment with my boyfriend. I would have the freedom of sleeping whole nights, end enjoy my sleeping without worrying about arriving home before 5 a.m. I would sleep with him...not only serve the natural needs. I was absolutely happy, until the wicked witch (known as my husband's mother) started spreading her intrigues. Anyway, that's subject for another entry.
On December 26Th, 2001, after celebrating Christmas with my in-laws at their house in the countryside, and due to the big crash in economy some weeks before, my beloved father-in-law left us alone in this earthly world. The news knocked me, because he was the fresh air I needed every time I went to their house. He received me as the daughter he never had. He was constantly thinking about my welfare and my son's. In fact, some days before he died, he was thinking about buying me a car "to avoid the risks of handling with my son in buses." He was also my husband's pillar. They used to go hunting and fishing together since my husband was five. They had a close-knit relationship. They felt at ease when they were together. My father in law was human, he was full of flaws, but no one can deny that he was a great man, extremely generous and always thinking about others. I've never seen such a long line of cars accompanying a coffin. The worst part is that I had to carry out with the organization of most of the things when he died. My husband's mother was shocked, as well as her two sons, and nobody in the family was willing to. I still miss him, especially in the countryside house where I saw him alive for the last time. That's one of the reasons why I don't go there as often as my husband wishes. He was 49, and died from a heart attack.
On August 12Th, 2002, I didn't have a funeral for the baby I lost, because it was on its early stages, but I knew it was alive when they showed me the fetus' heart beating in the same study where my doctor said it was an ectopic pregnancy, and I needed urgent surgery to remove it.
The third funeral was my mother's father. To tell you the truth, I don't remember the date. He was old, he was not my grandfather, he was just my mother's father. I never had a grandpa-grand daughter relationship with him. In fact, some time after his death, I heard that my mother's mother told one of her friends that "I stood at the door looking at his dead body as if I were looking at a dead dog." My first thought was: "She has to be kidding!" but then a strong anger appeared. I didn't know that man when he was alive, I was there because of my mother. When I had the chance to meet him, he was flying on a distant star because of his hydrocephalus disease! He didn't know me! However, I'm not a monster, I'm just reluctant to see dead bodies. I went there because of my mother. I accept that I didn't spill a tear for him. I didn't know that man. But I never looked at him as she thought.
The last funeral was on October 2nd, 2006. Our Lola Mora's Headmaster died out of the blue. He was a doctor and I still wonder why on earth he couldn't cure himself as he may have done with others. I remember that I used to think that he was too serious. I used to believe that he was unreachable. In time I understood that he was a great man. He was the one who supported Jesi and me when we were preparing Halloween in 2005. Against all odds, he encouraged us to continue with our project without paying attention to the stones we had on our way. He was the strong figure that we knew the very first day of classes walking through our school's long corridors. He was the one who showed me his pride when he learnt that Jesi and me were presenting a lecture in a conference. He was the one that treated Jesi and me as if we were special. He used to make jokes to Jesi and me. He was the one who let us waiting for him forever. I regret now because I didn't want to bother him when he was hospitalized. I really wanted to see him and tell him that for me he was my "uncle Albert," that I was so happy of having met him, that he was the perfect driver for the big Lola Mora Airplane.
Uncle Albert, you were my last big loss, and sometimes I find myself looking through our classroom window, as if I were waiting to see you walking and smiling at me as you used to.
The pain will go in time. At this moment, I still spill a tear when I stop in my everyday rush, and reflect on the ones that are not with me anymore.
Hoping that all of you are better where you are, once again...GOOD BYE!

Impotence

I don't have a different word to refer to my state of mind. I feel impotent towards some people's actions. Today, after three months of having resigned to my position as English teacher, I learnt about some negative comments that my former bosses have been spreading.

The school's owner out of ignorance, stupidity or who knows, gave the order of not calling me never again. Not even for one day.

After listening astonished to the person that was telling me this, I stayed in shock. For a micro second, I wanted to hit a pair of women. I couldn't believe that they were that bitchy. That pair of witches. I'm so stupid!

I'm so naive in terms of jobs, that I never thought about the truth behind their threats. One of them told me very serious that I should think what I was doing, that I would regret it in the future. I never thought that she would be as mean as to close another door for me. She knew me since I was 13! She knew me for more than half of my life! How could she!

I'm thinking about talking to the school's owner, but just talk to her. At this point, I don't want to discuss anything, I don't want a debate. They were criminals, they should be grateful that I resigned and never consider the possibility of making a bigger mess in the Education Secretariat.

Now I wonder why this is happening to me. Why is it that I have to deal with all this before I even get my degree? Why didn't they ignore me? Why do they keep on trying to destroy my image? Why is it that I'm so important for them? I've just chosen not to go on with their bad movements. I preferred stepping away, silently, without saying anything, just preserving my integrity.

Please, I need someone to explain their attitudes, so I can understand why is it that they are being so mean to me. Please God, give me the strength to keep on living as I live, without trading my values for a monthly payment, without gifting my possibility to keep on sleeping well, with a clean conscience and with the pride of knowing that I've never done anything wrong.

Good bye blog assignment

Last night my classmates and me received the great news of being relieved from completing our daily blog assignments. At that moment, I felt a huge happiness due to the fact that I had already fulfilled the minimum number of entries. However, when I got up today, and turned on my laptop while preparing breakfast as usual, a strong nostalgic feeling hit me.

After giving it some minutes of reflection, I discovered that even when the compulsory aspect disappeared, my inner need of writing didn't sink with it.

At this point, I'm in love with my blog. I have put so much of me on it, that I don't really know if I will be able to abandon it. I've spent long hours trying to change its layout, its template, the colours, music, etc and I'm not so sure about leaving it aside that easily.

Who knows, maybe I don't write daily entries, maybe I let it rest for a while, or maybe I keep on writing randomly...who knows...only time will tell.

At this moment, I have to thank my teacher for being so considerate with us by stop pressuring with this, but I also have to thank him because he woke in almost all of us that sleeping writer that lies within.

Last class was the kind of class that I enjoy. Even when my writing was a natural disaster, I felt really happy of being corrected. The relaxed way in which he conducted it, was exactly what I was talking about on my previous entries. I felt overwhelmed. I finally enjoyed my English Language IV class. I felt that I was learning significatively. I'm happy. I don't have much to say because happiness sums up my feelings at this moment.

Thank you C! Last night, maybe without noticing it, you have pulled down the huge iron wall that lied between us. I'll be grateful for ever.

THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!!

A curse

"That's the problem when you are a natural organizer, everyone tends to relax and wait until you have everything done." This was one of my teachers' reaction yesterday, when I told her about the anger and impotence I felt towards some people in our institute.
The thing is that since nobody was moving a finger about our graduation dinner, a pair of classmates and me started looking for a place. We spent almost the whole week coming and going from one place to the other, feeling helpless when someone answered "we don't have any available service until February," or "everything is already booked for November and December."
Frustration, that was the prevailing feeling among the three of us. Anyway, in the end, we found a pair of nice places. The real problem came when we had to discuss our findings with the students of the other teacher training careers. Last Friday, we walked through our institute corridors speaking about it, explaining which were the services and their respective pros and cons. One group answered that it was really expensive, the other that they didn't like the date, and the last ones, that they wouldn't participate in the dinner party. COME ON! ARE YOU KIDDING US?
My idea of consideration towards other people's work is to give an alternative when I say that I disagree. Disagreement without solutions is just a plain careless attitude.
By Monday, almost everyone agreed, but when I called to check if the date was still available, the person in charge of it, told me that fifteen minutes ago, someone had already paid for it. The only available dates were November 16th and late December.
No doubt, we were in a hurry. Thanks God, when I told everybody the news, they finally agreed on the necessity to decide at the moment. A group of us, including people from the three careers willing to participate went to talk with the person in charge of giving us the money for the booking...and we got it!
On Wednesday afternoon, while I was enjoying the view of Jujuy through my bedroom window, the girl who was in charge of booking called me and gave me the great news that we already had our place on November 16th.
My happiness was indescribable. Everything was on the go. We had a place to celebrate our four years of effort.
Anyway, in the end, I have to recognize that my horizon became clearer much sooner than I thought. After all, being a 'natural organizer' is not that bad...isn't it?

A living mess

I'm a mess today. I don't know how to explain this twisted state of mind, but I'm full of feelings. I'm afraid, I'm nervous. I just want to quit. But quitting means treason.
I've been upset and anguished for a long time. However, it was today when I couldn't manage things. I couldn't control myself. I spoke in a rude way to one of my classmates, and even to one of my teachers. I was so far away from politeness. And I'm sorry. Were was my controller?
I really fight everyday against my big flaws. But on days like this, I really don't know how to handle everything. I've just escaped from one of my classes. The space was becoming so limited, my teacher's voice started to fade, and I was lost. I just wanted to cry. Desperately. But tears refused to appear.
I don't like being myself today.
Everyday I come to school wishing I were somewhere else.
I'm so tired.
I've lost so many things to reach to this point, and the only thing I want is to run. I just want to run nonstop.
"You are not so concentrated today", he said. "No", I replied. "OK", he concluded. The only thing he cared about was his class. I was not being myself. I'm a mess. And he only cared about my disturbance in the class. We all have bad days, we are all human beings. Please switch off your teacher's alarm for a moment. Put away that mask. Help us to enjoy. Show us the way. We are all adults, but we are also a sensitive group. We need to be embraced with caring attitudes. I urgently need someone to tell me I'm not useless. I need someone to refute my thesis statement, as convincing as to make me change my mind.
Help me. I'm feeling at the edge of falling down into a black hole.
My classmates are my pillars, but today I'm feeling lonely. Having my pillars is not helping me. I don't know exactly what I need, however, I know I need something, right now.
I'm sorry again. I don't like feeling this way. I know that what I need is inside me, but I cannot find the strength to look for it. Help me. Help me in my encounter with a more positive view of my future.
I don't like being myself today. I know I'm wasting time. I should be enjoying the moment as I enjoyed my fifth year at secondary school. I can't do it. What's more, at this point of desperation, one feeling is added: FEAR, the same one I've always felt when I knew for sure that I would regret about not having enjoyed something. This moment will disappear, and I really need to enjoy it now while I'm living, when I'm healthy, and when I have time to do it.

Untitled

Sadness.
Anguish.
I feel the emptyness as a roaring tiger.
Missing things,
Missing people,
Deceiving myself.
Self betrayal.
Unfulfilled expectations.
Too many things left behind,
Too many people abandoned,
Everything for my own sake.
And now this hole.
This infinite black space.
It's too much,
It's just too much.
Every day is a burden,
Every hour is a different fight,
Against my will,
Against my fears.
At this point words are not enough.
I'm on a rollercoaster.
I want to get down,
from this never ending trip...
Just one step away,
Everything is different.
Every face becomes unknown.
Years devoted to try,
Try harder,
and try over and over again.
I'm just one step away from the finishing line,
And I wonder,
What will I find
When my moment comes,
And I have to jump from the cliff.

Meanness

I used to think that families fighting over money was something that happened to others. Nowadays, I have to recognize that it's a disease that has recently touched mine.
Some years ago, my father's father lost his sight. At the beginning we thought he was not completely blind, because he could manage to do some things which required sight. Out of his blindness, he started to behave in a violent way. At that moment, his doctors recommended giving him some pills to calm him. My aunt refused categorically. Then, my father and my uncle suggested to bring him to a place where he could receive the special attention he needed, but my aunt refused again, and offered herself to look after him.
Things were good, until the house where my grandfather used to live was sold last year. The money they got for the sale, was divided into four equal parts, one for the father, one for each brother, and one for the sister. When they made such division, my father agreed with his siblings to leave my grandfather's part untouched, until they decide to admit him in a good resting place which might demand more money than the full amount of his pension.
This agreement was great. My grandfather was still living with my aunt, and nobody complained about it.
Out of greed, nonsense, or whatever reason I don't care much at this point, my aunt came one day this year, gathered her brothers, and informed them that she had spent all her money, plus my grandfather's money. My uncle wanted to kill her, because he was counting with that money for the moment his father passes away. My father was shocked, and started worrying about his father's future.
When I learnt about this woman's deed, I told my mother that from then on, was a matter of time the moment in which her father would become an impossible burden in her life.
Sadly, only four months have passed, and last weekend my father's sister called him to say that she is suffering high blood pressure and she cannot have her father with her anymore. What's worse, my aunt said that my grandfather should be put in an institution here in Tucumán (she lives in Santiago del Estero) because she is moving to Buenos Aires to live with her oldest son.
Are you kidding me? How can you be such an awful person? My God!
She spent every single cent of my grandfather's fund, and now she simply flees?
The worst part is that my father is the only one who succeeded in having a life, which is why, as always happens, the one who never bothered others, the self-sufficient one, is that who has to take care of everything when things go wrong.
At this point, I only hope that my father's health is not put into any type of risk, or else, I don't know what am I capable of doing.
I've been taught that whenever I choose to do something or not do anything, I have to be responsible enough as to carry on with the unseen consequences that all that may have. That is why I don't understand this woman's reaction. What's more, I cannot understand why she sends me messages saying that her house's doors are fully opened for me if she is being such a bitch with my father, and was worse with me last year in relation to other issues which are too long to mention at this moment.
I suffered a lot with my mother's family because of their meanness, that's why I don't care about them, in fact I don't consider them part of my family anymore. Apparently, to avoid being hurt again, I will have to do the same with my father's family. And I wonder why do they have to be like that? Why should I build a shell around my loved ones to protect ourselves? We are family for Christ's sake! Why are you being such a pain in the ass?

A bomb? Are you kidding me?

I'm amazed about people's lack of consciousness. Yesterday we were in our Language class discussing some issues, and a man entered the room saying that we had to leave the building. They had received a message saying that there was a bomb in our school.
WHAT THE HELL THE TWISTED MIND WHO CALLED WAS THINKING WHEN IT DID SUCH STUPID THING??????
Once more, I proved myself to be a balanced person when something goes wrong. But when I was at home, after kissing my son, who was already sleeping, I started shivering, and my heart wanted to jump out from my chest in despair.
I have to recognize that at the moment in which we were asked to leave the building, I only cared for one of my closest friends to be calmed. I didn't want to loose her in the crowd, because I knew that she was shocked.
This was the first time in my 28 years in which something like this happens to me. Of course I have heard many times about practical jokes like this, which were done in some institutions. However, since we are among adults, I couldn't believe people's stupidity. The news of a bomb threat came to us when the building was almost empty. We are in a wing which is almost forgotten. So, if the bomb really existed, I wouldn't be here writing at this moment.
I wonder how can someone be as careless as to threat people in this way.
When I decided to start writing about this, I was quite upset, my nose was bleeding out of rage. I couldn't understand anything. I was too upset to think in my own health. I felt impotence at its highest rate, I wanted to find someone responsible for all this, and punch his or her in the face.
Now I'm calmer. However, I still cannot understand the situation, and this is not good for me. I always look for understanding everything, even when I do not accept it... I need to understand, I need a rational answer for everything that happens (or not) to me and to the ones I care for.
Does anyone have an answer? I would be quite thankful if someone explains all this in a reasonable way.

Finally...I passed

I passed my Language exam, and of course, I'm happy about it. Even when I didn't consider the possibility of passing, I never lost faith. I believe only three of us passed it.
I felt at ease, but I also felt anxiety again. I have studied. I have studied the four units of our course book. The vocabulary and the grammar. I even made a list of words and idioms on a special notebook. I studied a lot. I passed my language exam. I still cannot believe it.
The bad part is that I will have to sit for a final exam on December. Exactly what I didn't want to do. The idea of having my whole family and friends knowing that I'm going to sit for the last exam to have my teacher's degree, is like a lot of pressure on my shoulders. I really hope this pressure doesn't become a mountain on my way. I hope this pressure vanishes from now until the day I have to sit for my final examination. I'm full of hope. I wish I finish my examination with a nice 'congratulations colleague' from the exam board.
I'm already dreaming about that day. I'm having awful nightmares as well. I hope this becomes one of those things you laugh at when you recall them.
The ultimate happiness would be that all of my classmates sitting for the same exam also pass it. We will be partying without end.
I really, truly hope that every stone on our way vanishes, or at least gives us the chance to pass it through. I believe that our effort will be rewarded in the end.
By now, having received a "Good discussion Patricia" as feedback for my essay writing is like the hand I needed on my shoulder to encourage me to go on. Those three simple words meant the world to me. It was the satisfaction of finally doing something good. They were an open door that leads me to keep on improving myself. Even when they were only three words, only twenty letters...they were more motivating than if my teacher would have written something more elaborated. I don't expect more from him. He is a great teacher, but I still believe that I'm a pain in the neck for him, that he doesn't like me at all. However, I know for sure that I will be absolutely certain that he will never gift me a passing mark. If I have one, it's because of my effort, it's because I have earned a passing mark.
I don't deny that I would like that we could build a bond that unifies us in a close teacher-students relationship, but in time I have learnt that not all of my teachers can do it. I mean, I don't want us to become friends, but at least feel the freedom of being comfortable in our classes. I don't know why, but whenever he crosses our classroom threshold, my affective filter is higher, as well as my anxiety.
I wish this can change before we finish our classes, if not, it was a pleasure having met such a great teacher. Thank you for pushing me hard enough as to help me become the best English teacher I can.

August - Just a windy month?

There's an old urban legends which says that August takes some lives away. I've always laughed at this, but this year the legend is being frighteningly near some relatives.
Last week was a different week. On Sunday I realized that my son had chickenpox. I was quite worried, sad and desperate because I'm not accustomed to have my son sick. He is a healthy boy who only got minimum flues and some coughing from time to time. So, having him with blisters all over his body, and even worst, in his throat, it was pretty unbearable for me. I didn't know what to do to help him feel better, he wouldn't eat anything because of the pain, but he was hungry anyway. I was helpless. I bought him some yogurt, and part of the problem was solved.
By Thursday, my husband's mother called him to say that a healthy relative had just passed away. We stayed puzzled. The woman who died, was not one of my favourite relatives from my husband's side, but she was a person, a healthy person. Why should she die? And more important, why should she die out of the blue? Without notice, without being sick, out of the blue. She started feeling a strong stomachache a week before, and the doctor advised her to have some medicines. She took the medicines and started a healthy diet. At 4 a.m. on Thursday, she told her husband that she was suffering a splitting headache, and by the time her husband went to look for the car keys to take her to the hospital, she lost consciousness.
The weird thing is that the whole family was expecting the husband to pass away, because of his diabetes and the problems he has had for not being careful enough with his health.
Anyway, by Friday, my husband went on a minor surgery from one of his toes. So, instead of having one Leo male sick, I had TWO. Leo males are quite demanding when they are sick. They tend to be extremely attached to their mothers, which meant that I had my husband's mother more often than I wished. What's worse, I had my husband's mother 'suggesting' ways of treatment for her son and her grandson. My God! I thank everyday for the patience I have. If not, I would have sent her to hell and I would probably have had many quarrels with my husband.
Of course, I didn't go to school on Friday, but one of my friends sent me a message asking about my family's health and told me about one of her friends' father who had died that day.
For this series of unfortunate events, I started wondering about the urban legend that I've always heard from old women about this strange characteristic of August. Is it true, or just a weird coincidence? As i said, I've always laughed at this and every urban legend, but this year I decided to doubt, and not be one hundred percent certain of the non-existance of such possibility.

Reaction Paper on Jaim Etcheverry's presentation

We were undeniably there - From left to right: Patricia Romano, Jesica Suparo, Carlos Lizárraga and Raquel Soria


When Dr Jaim Etcheverry started his presentation, I felt at ease. The pace of his talking and the rhythm of his voice were captivating. From the beginning to its end, the talk was great. He said things that caught my attention, and some others in which I couldn't agree more.

When he said he would start with a parable, I thought he was going to do something like a mass, where the priest starts reading something from the bible, and then comes the whole sermon. However, I was nicely surprised when I realized that he had changed the parable to make it fit in the main topic of his lecture.

With this parable, I remembered all the things that we have been learning in some of our subjects at teacher training college. Lesson plans, projects, contents, etc were all known to me, but in his words, they sound like a real burden for the teaching practise.

My classmates and me were the youngest people in the audience, which left me with a big question mark in front of my face. I started wondering about the big amount of people who would have been benefited for such incredible, real, and rough comments on Argentinean education system.

All in all, he didn't say many new things. It was the way in which he said everything that was really shocking. I mean, we all know about the divorce between the institutions of family and school, but it's like one of those secrets that everyone knows, although no one does anything or even speak about it.

Personally, seeing education as a way to dimension our own possibilities, was adding one good aspect of it in my life. In other words, for me education is essentially needed and I have never considered it in the way Dr Jaim Etcheverry put it.

I couldn't agree more with the fact that schools have become an accreditation agency, in fact, this was the main reason why I resigned my job two months ago. I tested my students' knowledge and put them the marks that they deserved. In some particular cases, I decided to gift them an opportunity by not giving them the absolute failing mark. Anyway, the head of the English department, in alliance with the school's principal, decided to change almost 80% of the marks of the two courses in which I was in charge. The worst part is that I found out about this criminal act, because of my students' naiveness when they thanked me for giving them a passing mark on their reports even when they had a plain one in the two tests they did.

Another shocking thing is the realization of a black future without education. The fact that we won't be able to live our lives in a safe environment due to others' ignorance and fearless attitude is anguishing. As I always say, my biggest worry is related to the world in which my son will have to live. It's not only caring and being concerned about our future, it's pre-occupying, and actually doing something, for the sake of those younger than us.

It was a great talk. In fact once more, we as a group at teacher training college, have been using our power to ask for more useful education. For example, yesterday we gave one of our teachers some suggestions in relation to a subject that we have during this term. We asked for a better quality in the material used, in this way we will improve our knowledge.

Although Dr Jaim Etcheverry said that he prefers to be quite optimistic regarding our future. At some point I see educational improvement as nothing different from an idealistic utopia. On one hand, because of governments' lack of interest on the topic, and family's tendency to be on the fast lane. On the other hand, because if we want to change the system as it is, we have to start by modifying people's minds. Education takes time, and sadly enough, day by day we find less people willing to accept those conditions. I tried to stand against the system, and the system ended up closing one of its doors to me.

Guillermo Jaim Etcheverry's lecture

Dr. Guillermo Jaim Etcheverry is a doctor who has written a book called "La tragedia Educativa", and who has devoted his life to teaching and to neurobiology investigation.

We went to one of his talks about the Argentinean educational situation yesterday, and he started it with a very funny parable, which says something like this:
"In those times, Jesus came to the mountain, sat on a stone, and let his disciples and followers approach him; 'Happy those who are hungry and thirsty of justice, the merciful, the chased because of justice...'That was when Pedro interrupted him to say: 'Do we have to learn it by heart?'; and Andrés said: 'Do we have to write it down?'; and Santiago said: 'Are you going to test us with that?'; and Tomás said: Do we have to write a monograph?'; and Marcos said: 'And what is this useful for?'. So one of the followers present there, inquired Jesus about his lesson plan, and in front of the master's amazement, he queried in these terms: 'What's the name of your classroom project?; Which are the strategies?; Which are the conceptual, attitudinal, and proceeding contents?; Have you given encounter spaces to coordinate transverse actions?.' Jesus eyes were full of tears; he looked towards the sky, and said: 'Father, why is it that you have abandoned me?'

After the laughing of all the audience, Dr. Jaim Etcheverry referred to the need of reflection on the broken bounds between the school and the family, he said that we are experiencing an increasing carelessness towards the teaching process. It seems that there's a fear to teach.
Sadly, he explained, society is influencing the teaching practise, and our society nowadays is embracing the idea of youth as a goal, not a phase, which everyone wants to achieve.

Youth applies to the ones who are chronologically young, nevertheless, the rest is constantly seeking for it. It is said that young people already know everything, which in a way leaves an obsolete mark on education, but we have to reflect on this because we can all agree on the fact that in the technological field they have a greater knowledge. However, we can also agree on the fact that nowadays, a biggest intellectual capacity is required to write something than to handle technology.

We are urged to understand which our responsibility on education is. We have to think that we are putting in the young ones' hands a huge inheritance, which is the whole creativity corpus that we have been leaving to them.

The education is a way to dimension our own possibilities, with a correct education we can answer questions like: What can we do?, What are we good at?. Its acquisition is worldwide admitted to be mainly fruit of our own personal effort, which gives in other words a maths operation as the following:
Personal effort + Teachers = Long term satisfaction.
The problem in this society is that satisfaction is required immediately, which generates a big obstacle to the ones who want to teach.

Nowadays the main goal is to make the learning process something fun. We are losing the real aim of going to school. Students should go to school to be interested, to allow teachers build interest on them, not to have fun.
The problem is that there are no students neither willing nor with a positive attitude to learn, and parents have become allies of their children against school. What's more, secondary school has become a long preparation for their final trip to Bariloche.

This crisis lives within our houses' walls. The school is nowadays only an accreditation agency, in which the conquest of a certificate is the main goal. Both, parents and students only want to have a passing mark in every subject, they don't care about learning. That is why the level of knowledge is decreasing faster than ever before.

There's a decapitalization of knowledge, well backed up by psychological theories which state that knowledge grows faster than the learning process, which is why when students finish studying something, that something is already old.

Even to be a rebel, you have to know. This is not taken into account anymore. If you don't know about the problem, how would you know why or against what are we rebelling to.

Today the teaching practise is rejected because of the asymmetric relationship that this requires. This crisis in knowledge transmission is the basis of the problem. Teacher's authority is biggest than what is thought. The teacher has to be responsible for the world that is being transmitted to the students. So, the teacher should transmit knowledge, but in our modern schools a teacher is only a group entertainer.
The worst part is that not even the ones who are in a position to value their education, are willing to do it. Students, whose parents can aspire to a better education, also hold the already mentioned tendency to find relief by passing the subjects without knowing anything. In fact, those in need are the ones who consider education as a possibility of improvement.

Our Argentinean society is a reluctant society towards rules, and education is essentially a teaching of rules, which is why, our youth is having less knowledge every day.
People who have learnt in the 'old-fashioned way', can easily adapt to the new technologies because of the background knowledge that they have.
Egalitarian democracy is not suitable for all types of institutions. In the family, and at school, you cannot have a democracy, because equality will kill them.

Unfortunately, teachers are baby-sitters. Nowadays, schools are seen as a nursery where parents leave their children to have someone taking care of them. Teachers, of course, are those entitled for such job. The most important goal of going to school has been lost.

Every child has the same possibility to be taught. One of the big problems in our society is related to the exclusion of poor people. This exclusion is not applied to poor people who are still hopeful of finding a way out. This exclusion refers to those who have lost all their possibilities to improve. Sarmiento said: "If you don't want to educate them for charity, at least do it for fear." Some years from now, we will have a society which will be impossible to hold, because we would have created a group of people who have no values. Our life depends on the quality of the ones we have in front of us. If we don't take care of those, we won't be able to live our lives, because we would have created people who have nothing to lose.

We have to give people the elements to think, and to have an approach to reality from different perspectives. No one knows what is going to be used and when, because the education tries to build up every person as complete as possible, plus give them tools to find a way to get a place in society.

If we keep on thinking that today is good, and what was before is useless, we will end up having an empty life, because today we are the past of our future. That is why we have to effort ourselves to construct in the best possible way the future children. We have to save them, and save ourselves from the black future that presupposes having ignorant people around us.

Dream or nighmare?

I was talking with you, it was a sunny Spring day. We were discussing some important issues regarding the topic that concerns us, world’s education. You asked me to join in a four block’s walk towards your house. Your right hand was holding a little girl’s hand. In a strange way, that little girl’s face was familiar. It reminded me of myself when I was 5 years old. I agreed on your plea, and we started walking side by side. I was by your left side, and after the fifth step…you held my hand.
For a microsecond, my heart stopped, and a freezing feeling traveled through my veins from top to bottom. I kept on walking, speechless looking at an imaginary horizon. What was I doing? I’m married, and you’re not my husband. Am I cheating on him just by letting you hold my hand? What is happening? Why is it that you held my hand in such a tender and synergic way? Is this a symbolism of you willingness to help me go on? Is it that you already know that day by day my unwillingness to continue is becoming stronger? What is this? What am I doing? You’re not like this, you’re a nice guy, but you never show your feelings. Why are you doing it with me? I’m married, and you know it. You have to know it.
The four blocks seemed endless, our first block was endless. Our silence seemed an ocean between us, and your silence was deafening. I decided to continue walking in the same speechless way. I started looking at the people around us. Would anyone recognize me? Would any of these people tell my husband that I was walking hand by hand with another man? What would I say to him? I felt I was the worst cheater in the world, just by not cleaning my hand out of yours. At some point you stopped walking, as if in the previous steps you were trying to find sufficient confidence. You stopped, released your hand from the little girl, and looked at me. You were speechless and I was quite uncomfortable. My feeling of guilt was increasing at gigantic steps. My heart was beating as a steam machine that was about to explode. You didn’t want to look at me, and you seemed embarrassed by something I couldn’t get.
Softly, your warm and tender left hand released mine. I didn’t want to look at you. I started feeling shyness as part of me. My heart had the same butterflies that I used to have in my teenage days. The same butterflies that were coming and going through my stomach. I’m married, I’m married, I’m mar…
Your lips approached mine in the most delicate way. You said “I’m sorry”, but your words were flying in the air, far away from me. I wanted to kiss you back, but I’m married, we are in the middle of the street. What am I doing? Why did you do that? Am I losing my mind? Why are you doing this to me?
Tears caressed my cheeks, and as a contagious disease, your eyes started to show a mist of tears. We stayed there looking at each other in anguish, as if we knew for certain that we were hurting someone else.
Our sad eyes finally encountered in an unbreakable bond, and my only need was to hug you, and have you hugging me back.
In that emotional embrace of souls, as fate decreeing that we would never find each other again, my alarm clock started ringing and I woke up this morning feeling bitterness at its biggest extent.