ÞÓRDÍS - GOOD FRIDAY

I thought I would be writing more directly about education while here, how our classes are going, which methods we are using, connecting it to ideas and pedagogical theories that I have read. But education is such a large and organic phenomenon that it is hard to contain it or pinpoint when it takes place. When I look closely at our days here I see that, at least for the younger boys, each one is brimming with experiences that trigger learning.

Yesterday, for example, Flóki and I had learned a great deal before 10 am. The two of us woke up early and since Eyja was not ready to get up yet I asked Flóki if he would like to join me for a morning stroll (no longer referred to as a morning run). He did and we jogged up the street and turned left onto a gravel road that Eyja and I used to take before we encountered an unusually aggressive dog and changed our route. Surely enough the wild dog was there and Flóki and I were both so startled by its assaults that we decided to take the long way back to our house.

This encounter spurred interesting conversation. Flóki wondered why this dog, like many other dogs here in Mexico, was so aggressive and threatening. A couple of weeks ago he had been bitten by a neighbor’s dog and after discussing it with me came to the conclusion that most dogs around here are not pets, like the dogs we know in Iceland and Canada. Flóki noted with sadness and surprise that the dogs here are sometimes kicked and beaten by their owners as a way of disciplining them. This makes the dogs both scared and aggressive, concluded Flóki and we started talking about how it is the same for children and people in general, that the way they are treated influences how they behave.

As we kept on walking I noticed that Flóki became tense each time we heard or saw a dog approach us (which, in San Pablo, is every minute or so). So I told him that even though we had just met a dog who was wild and scary it would not be fair of us to judge all dogs as aggressive and mean. It would not be fair to dogs in general and besides, we ourselves would miss out on so many nice experiences with dogs if we decided to label them all as scary. Yes, Flóki remembered many good dogs and I felt his hand in mine relax.

While walking, hand in hand, discussing the classic issue of nature versus nurture we came to a small intersection and noticed that a bus stop had been turned into a mini altar, with a picture of the Virgin Mary and fresh flowers in a plastic vase. A lit candle had been neatly positioned in a crack in the sidewalk and across the street sat an older woman who appeared to be praying. We stopped for a while to admire the scene and said good morning to the woman who replied with a faint smile. Shortly after that we came upon a small procession of about dozen unusually dressed children and people. In front there was an angel with wings and a halo, then came a tall, longhaired person dressed in white, with streaks of blood on his back and around him were what appeared to be Roman soldiers. Then it dawned on me that today was Good Friday.

Since Flóki and I were supposed to be jogging while the procession walked slowly and solemnly (although being a group of school children it was naturally mixed with cheerful voices, jokes and soft complaints about uncomfortable shoes) we quickly passed them. Turning and coming to our familiar corner store we saw that a group of about twenty people had gathered and seemed to be waiting for the parade. Among them were our friends Fidel and Eugenia with their kids, standing by their white pickup truck. Today a big statue of Jesus Christ dressed in fine clothes was standing on the back of their truck, leaning slightly to one side. We waved them all and gave big smiles before we continued up our street. Just imagine, if it had not been for the mad dog, we would have missed all of this! Flóki and I agreed that we really were lucky.

As we climbed the hill up to our house Flóki asked me: “Is it not strange that almost everyone here believes in God? I mean the Christian God, not the gods like the ones they had before. When Cortés came to Mexico he told the people that they had to speak Spanish and that they had to stop believing in their gods. And now they all do” Flóki observed. I thought that was pretty smart and asked him more about Cortés and Flóki told me about King Montezuma and other things he has been learning when Orri has been telling the boys about Mexican history.

When we came home everyone was awake and having breakfast. As we told the family about our adventure, jokes about Jesus’s blond hair and blue eyes sparked a brief conversation about racism, which then turned into a lesson in geography and the atlas was brought out. This almost led to a history lesson involving the ongoing conflict in Israel and Palestine, but was cut short because Vasilis had a class on Greek mythology. Still, the boys had many questions about Jesus; his life, death, resurrection, etc. Many of which I was unable to answer. I admitted that I had very little knowledge of the Bible and had read it, or bits from it, mainly in order to better understand literature. It was mostly Vasilis who was able to answer questions and clarify issues around Jesus’s struggles. With a smile he suggested that in honor of Easter they should perhaps switch Greek mythology for Bible studies today. “And wouldn’t my grandmother be surprised if she knew!” Vasilis said with a slight grin on his face.

This all took place before 10 am one Friday and I could have chosen any other day to describe in similar manner. In my opinion the key to this type of education is being aware of the needs and interests of our students, seizing every opportunity to learn and being open to the fact that it may lead us into topics that we had not anticipated or planned. Yet, I also realize that in our fast paced lives it is often hard to find time for such spontaneous discussions and interactions because our time tends to be so rigorously planned. As a parent and as a teacher I often feel restricted by the tasks and duties that come with each occupation. The curriculum, the syllabus and the weekly agenda seem difficult to break away from. I have certain concepts, techniques and facts that I am supposed to get across to my students within a certain timeframe and there appears to be little space for addressing issues and interests that pop up non-expectantly in the classroom. Hence teachers often do not allow for these contingencies or digressions to occur, even though frequently they are exactly what the students will find relevant and therefore remember and make use of. Many of us do not even notice the opportunities when they arise because we are so caught up in following the set plan. The same is true for parents. Because we are often overloaded and so focused on the things that need to be done we lose sight of what truly matters. Skipping homework or a bath before bed and instead joining your child as she is completely immersed in the act of making a castle from the sofa cushions is likely to have a more lasting influence on you both than the daily homework or bath. Here in Mexico I am now in an ideal position to stay open to the endless possibilities of learning and hopefully I will continue being alert to unexpected opportunities of learning when I return to the busy routine of our lives in Iceland.