1 December 2008

Santa Cruz (1 Dec. 2008)

Today was the busiest and most stressful day of the trip so far. Over the past several days we've been collaborating in small groups by subject matter with four American teachers and one Galapaguenan teacher.

We came up with a solid unit idea to focus on what we termed "The Paradox of Paradise." Whereas most groups were focusing on environmental issues from the perspective of science or biology, we were viewing the glory of the islands through a literary interpretive lens. We saw the unabashed beauty of the islands, but we saw it directly juxtaposed against the dangerous side of nature, the parts of nature that lie in wait prepared to devour anything that isn't equipped or adapted to deal with it.

While it was exhilarating to have literary discussion time, preparing a unit plan and presentation to be delivered at the Colegio Nacional de Galapagos became taxing. After disembarking from the M/V Santa Cruz this morning, we boarded directly onto a bus for a 45 minute ride to the Hotel Red Booby, where we immediately began the last minute preparations for the presentation. Work on the presentations lasted until lunch at the Café Hernan a few blocks away from the hotel. The most unsettling aspect of the walk to lunch was the way that all of us still felt like we were on a ship. The ground seemed to rock and sway with the tide. According to those who have been on cruises before, the sensation supposedly goes away after about 24 hours.

From lunch, we basically went back to the hotel to regroup and walk over to Galapagos National High School. We arrived at the high school at 2pm, with presentations starting at 2:15. There were eight groups presenting, with ours being the last. Each presentation lasted between twenty five and thirty five minutes, so our presentation didn't begin until 5:40ish. Once on stage, everyone performed marvelously. Lena had a great hook for introducing our topic, John had a very witty way of describing a certain poets work ("The tourist with the third eye sees nothing"), Betsy was very enthusiastic, especially considering that the power went out during her portion of the presentation, and Zoila displayed mad translating skills and had a good perspective on our topic.

Finally, the most stressful part of the trip was finished.

Next, the students at the Colegio put on a cultural program of singing, dancing, and music. Once again, I successfully avoided taking part in the "Dancers pulling audience members up to dance" portion of the program. One of my favorite quotes from one of the music teachers at the school was "Most cultures around the world are trying to preserve their culture. In the Galapagos, we are trying to create our culture through music and art." It served as a poignant reminder to me that it would do some good to help reinvent our culture in the United States. The more I see, the more I am reminded of the fact that regional culture is practically dead. Except for pockets of preservation, even areas with rich cultural histories, like the Southeast, in particular, have bought into the idea of a homogenized culture of corporate conformity. As a middle school teacher, I get to see this in play by watching as my students over the past six years have been hooked on the life support of the prepackaged culture that they are downloading daily through television, internet, and video games. Adolescence is an important formative time, and they are the ones being most forcefully wooed. Our lives are basically one big advertisement, where our idea of culture is no longer "How can I express myself, my beliefs, my ideas, and my identity through the arts?" but rather "How can I express myself through the things I own, through the things I watch, through the things I buy?" As a tourist here, I constantly feel the danger of experiencing life through the viewfinder. I have to remind myself to put the camera down and have experiences, to see things in real life, not through my lens. It's helping to remind me that right here isn't the only place where I view the world through a lens. Maybe the greatest danger of our downloaded culture is that it has convinced us that it doesn't exist. We are sweetly serenaded by the sirens' song, enticing us, singing softly in our ears that our consumption is what brings meaning to our lives.

 

Bongo y Panga (1 Dec. 2008)

Short entry. After dinner tonight we saw possibly the rarest species so far. It's most commonly known by its scientific name--bailandus lombardous.  Hopefully, there won't be pictures posted later.