UTIM

View from UTIM - Volcán Popocateptl; photo taken by a student at UTIM

The Universidad Tecnológica de Izucar de Matamoros is located on the edge of Matamoros on gravel road, opposite from a field of sugar cane. If you are lucky, the clouds will part for a short while, and you can see the majestic Volcán Popocatépetl. I have been trying futilely to take a picture for the past two weeks and finally decided to steal this photo from facebook.

The University has two academic buildings where classes are held, a small library and information center, a greenhouse, laboratories for food technology and other science classes, and two cafeterias, which are more like outdoor pavilions in paradise, serving a wide variety of Mexican food, and of course, Coca Colas.

There is a gym for indoor basketball; it does not have air conditioning. Instead the doors and windows are wide open and birds have nested in the rafters. A dirt track circles a large soccer field, and there are two basketball hoops on the large cement block in the center of campus. I ask why there is an enormous yellow circle painted on this cement block, thinking it must be a sport with which I am unfamiliar. I am told it is where everyone goes in the event of an earthquake. They occur about every 4-5 years, and the last one in this region was in 2004. I thought about that fact as I was walking to the supermarket the other day, powerlines on both sides of the sidewalk...

My first day of class was Monday. I checked out a "Cañon" (a Canon-brand projector) from the Finance Department and arrived to my classroom early in order to set up.

It is like an American tech school or university where the professor must change classrooms for each group of students. That means on Monday, I am in Aula 6 for my first class, Aula 8 the second, and Aula 7 for the final class of the day. I carry a bag of goodies: toilet paper for a discussion game, cards for grouping, paperclips, folders, dry erase markers, etc. I also have my computer, iPad, video camera, my Antología (binder with all of my papers), and a small alarm clock to make sure I stay on time. My computer bag is from Walmart and ergonomic, it is not. I need to find a good masseuse.

Students are grouped by career (major) and section. They are with the same classmates all through college. Each day they come to one room to learn, and it is the professor who changes classrooms. My first class begins at 3:00 pm and ends at 4:00 pm, my next class begins at 4:00 pm and ends at 6:00 pm, and finally, my last class is from 6:00 pm until 8:00 pm. There is no passing time between classes, and this should make sense, but I haven't yet adapted to the complete obliviousness of time in Mexico.

Of course, I arrive fifteen minutes early for class to set up. But alas, the professor before me must have forgotten his watch because it is now 3:05, and I am still waiting to get into my classroom. At 3:06, I begin to set up and am ready to go by 3:10. The classes go smoothly, and I know it will be a good year.

I have approximately a month of two 2-hour sessions with my students each week to get through three units of writing. I am told to just do my best by the other English teachers because they know that this is nearly impossible. I know that if I prepare enough, I will be able to squeeze plenty of information into those precious four hours per week.

But, today is my one hour class. The "Cañon" I signed out yesterday is MIA, and I will be improvising my presentation today. The profe before me has forgotten his watch again, and I start writing my tech-savy PowerPoint on the tech-challenged whiteboard at 3:10. Four students rush in to get my attention, "Teacher, Teacher," they say. Titles are very important here - this is a sign of respect. The students tell me they will not be in class next week. "Teacher, Teacher," two more students need homework from Monday; they were not able to come the first day. This beginning-of-class chaos is actually pretty normal in Darlington too; I have realized students are students no matter where you are teaching. It is now 3:25.

I begin class; we start with a simple grammar review, and as I am explaining the word "brothers" is different than "siblings,", there is a knock at the door. Three tardy students ask permission to enter...again, as a sign of respect for the teacher. Another knock... Two students would like to survey my class for one of their assignments. I politely say no; I now have only 25 minutes to give an hour lesson...Another knock at the door. A professor needs to talk to a student. Knock Knock... Four more students, carrying plastic baggies of coins, explain a fellow classmate's mother, who has had a recent operation, cannot afford the costs. They would like a moment to ask my class if they can help. I say, "por supuesto" and go find some loose pesos while they give their spiel.

So, I have decided to plan only 20 minutes a day for each hour I teach. I have my bag of tricks and a guitar arriving soon if I should have any unexpected time left over.  I will also be purchasing my own "Cañon" from a tech guy I met at my favorite taco joint, and about half of my students have already signed up for my online learning platform where they can find materials and lessons I just couldn't fit in.

I will get through my curriculum, and students will learn. Tranquila.