"...y, a veces enseñamos inglés."

I'm stealing this title from a friend. It made me laugh uncontrollably, and I couldn't stop repeating it to myself. It means, "... and sometimes we teach English." It's true, my friends. Everyday I wake with a different understanding of my responsibilities in this small town. Assistant? Intern? Role model? Practice for the teacher? A sounding board? Free labor? The one I always agree to is "giver and receiver of love." There's plenty of confusion, disagreement and negative energy flowing down here, so the only way to survive is by recognizing love when it's there. Kisses, hugs, the te quiero's from my little sister are a constant reminder that the world is a good place. 

I'm interrupting my series of travel posts to tell you a little bit about the new semester. It's different, thanks to God and a little ambition. I had made up my mind to change my schedule and my attitude, and it worked.

In addition to "teaching" at Maria Mazzarello, I am teaching 6 evening classes for a small academy and privately tutoring a lady that works in tourism. Before I returned from winter vacation, I had already had solicitations in my mailbox for help from a native English speaker. I replied with gusto, unlike last semester. 

I'm running from one classroom to another, sometimes prepared and others not. I sleep less, and I don't always make it home for lunch. But I'm getting back to being Marie again, the over-scheduled school girl. I don't dread classes anymore, and I pleasure the time I have with my students. I search for games and activities, and I create my own lessons. I get excited when my students ask questions and seem interested. I'm overcoming the little things. Teaching isn't so bad after all. 

Who knows what that conclusion will lead to...