7 Quick Takes Friday - 1st US Edition

"For I am with you, says the LORD of hosts.
This is the pact that I made with you
when you came out of Egypt,
And my spirit continues in your midst;
do not fear!"

1. We've been back in the US for two weeks, and it's been...weird. It's like America is a foreign country now and I'm having to get used to it, just like I did China and Korea and Mexico. This is not totally a bad thing. It actually makes America a little less irritating and more interesting than I thought it would be.

2. Been spending almost all my spare, non-writing time doing stuff to enable us to move. First, of course, find an apartment. We found one that's perfect, filled out the various forms, given a deposit. The office managers keep saying all things are go, but I'm not totally filled with confidence. I never am until everything is signed on the dotted line, but it doesn't help that every time we call them to ask about something, they seem to have some question about our income or our application which could potentially cost us the place. If we don't get it, fine. I'll accept the will of God and keep looking. But I don't want to be told over and over that it's no problem, everything looks good, you can move in this week and then find out that no, it's not and you can't. Plus, our livelihoods depend on having Internet access, and I can't get that hooked up on "maybe".

3. The cats have broken through their fear of the dogs. The family (Kevin's) we're staying with has two dogs, one a little yappy thing and one a big part-Chow (more Chinese!). They're both good dogs, but the chow is far more intelligent. We are crashing on the second floor, and the dogs mostly keep to the downstairs. The cats want nothing to do with their separated brethren, BUT, being cats, they have become insatiably curious about the rest of the house, especially Pico, who has spotted a female in the vacinity and wants to put the Pico suave in action. He has also spotted the cat flap cut into the door leading out to the garage. Therefore, Pico overcame his dislike of the dogs long enough to make a run for the garage, and in doing so, realized he could intimidate the hell out of the little one, although not the big one. Not at all. Pepper, being a Turkish Van, doesn't care about the garage so long as he has his mama close to him, but he has also realized he could kick the butt of the little dog, being about twice his size. He respects the chow, though, either as an intelligence thing or from being Zhongguaren.

4. I've said it before and I'll say it again: TV is baaaad. I honestly didn't know they still made shows as bad as some that I've seen recently.

5. I bought a pedometer at last, but didn't get a chance to use it until last night. We went for a walk around a little park not too far from here, and just in taking a swing around a small suburban park and then walking home, I did almost 6,000 steps. Big deal, right? But this was 2 1/4 miles, nothing to sneeze at. I was pleased. Saying it was 6,000 steps makes it seem so far.

6. I keep forgetting that I can use things I haven't been able to for six years, like an oven and Hulu. I also keep forgetting that I can put toilet paper straight in the bowl and not in the trash can. I prefer the trash can.

7. America, or at least Texas, is cheaper than Mexico, or at least Chihuahua. It's true. Veggies, cat food, fast food, household items, even cheese - all cheaper in Texas than in Chihuahua. The one standout thing which is not cheaper - rent.

7 Quick Takes Started, Hosted, Continued By: http://www.conversiondiary.com/

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To Whom Shall We Go? You Have the Words of Eternal Life

For the past month, I’d been torn up with trying to plan our escape from Mexico. This was not because I hated Mexico. I quite liked it. The people were good, kind and intelligent, I liked Spanish, and I loved the food. I lived in an apartment I liked, in a nice part of town close to a grocery store, good restaurants, bus stops, and a huge, beautiful park.

But the strain over visas become overwhelming. We had come to Mexico to teach and therefore needed FM3 work visas. Our school had taken our paperwork - apostilles, tourist visas, immigration forms - and our money, promising to have a proper visa soon. Weeks went by and no visa. Months went by, and no visa. We told the people who run the school over and over that we wanted out visas, that the time on our tourist cards was running out. Then it did run out. No problem, they said. The paperwork is in. We’ll pay the fine for overstaying your tourist card.

More months went by. No visas. Finally, faced with the avalanche of lies and bad business practices used by the school, we left. We were promised the return of our papers, the money we’d given for the visas, our last pay. We got nothing. Derrick Woods and Dan Martin at Thinking in English language school had ripped us off, just like they had done to almost every other teacher who had ever worked there.

Regardless of them, though, there was the very real problem of what to do. We were in Mexico illegally. We didn’t have the paperwork anymore to try and get FM3s. There was a huge fine racked up which, while not out fault, was still attached to our names. We didn’t even know if we could leave Mexico and come back with new tourist cards. If we tried and couldn’t get back in, our cats were stuck.

So we decided to just leave and not come back, which opened up another whole set of problems. How to get out? No one would let us drive a rental car over the border. One-way drop offs were incredibly expensive. But if we flew, it would open the door to all kinds of questions about out immigration status.

After days of trying to work out every kind of plan, I decided to just hack the Gordian knot down the middle and fly. At least it congealed all our problems into one place, instead of spreading them all over the states of Chihuahua and Texas. We bought tickets. It took a lot of our savings, but I was just thankful we had the money. It was a blessing from God, because my husband had gotten, without applying and totally out of the blue, a grant from his school. Then I waited, praying every day to Our Lady of Perpetual Help and driving my friends crazy with hysterical emails. I laid awake at night, and got distracted during the day, worrying.There were so many ways this could go wrong. Immigration could catch us before we left. We could get deported - what would happen to my babies? The airline could refuse to let us leave until the fine was paid. We could miss our flight. There could be something wrong with the paperwork for the cats.

The day loomed. We still didn’t even know how we were going to get to the airport. One by one, all the people we knew became unavailable. Then my husband called a taxi service and got someone who spoke English. We arranged to be picked up, and the taxi was not only not late, but a little early. We got to the airport with plenty of time to spare. We walked up to the check-in counter, ready to admit we had no tourist visas and get things settled in plenty of time, only to be told there would be no check in for another two hours. So we waited. I prayed. I played a video game. Then I prayed some more. My poor cats, trapped in their carriers, also waited patiently.

Finally, the time came. The airline searched our baggage. They looked out the papers for the cats. They charged us for the pet carriers, but not the overweight fee they were very much entitled to. The people who worked for the airline were never anything but kind and polite, and just when I thought it was all over, they dropped this: “You can’t go through security yet. You will have to wait for the man from immigration to come. He will be here about 1:20.” Almost an hour and half.

So we sat obediently, outside of the security area. I prayed. I said the rosary. I read the Bible. I went to the sparkling-clean bathroom about six times. I tried not to think too much about what would happen when the immigration guy came, or if he was late. At last, a young, clean-cut man in a shirt which read INS walked by. This was him.

We went up to the counter. He asked us why we had overstayed. We decided it would be the better part of discretion to not go into the whole sad saga, so we simply said we had lost them. He scolded us, gently, for overstaying a tourist visa and warned us to not do it again or they would levy the whole fine. We had to pay for new tourist cards. And then we were free. He was courteous and compassionate. He even got scolded by one of the airline staff for making us even pay for new tourist cards, which I was thought generous. Security was pleasant and sweet to the cats, checking the carriers by hand and not making us get them out of running them through the x-ray machine. We walked to the gate. Even though the flight had not yet left, I felt like it was over. The nightmare was over.

We didn’t even realize until we got to the gate that a plane had been hijacked in Cancun earlier. All these people had been so sweet and accommodating on a day when security and worry must have been high.

I had done my best, but there was and is no doubt in my mind that this was all the mercy of God. I had done my best, but so much was out of my hands, and I knew it. I didn’t make the grant come through. My charm had influenced the intellect of the immigration guy. It wasn’t my snazzy luggage or personal magnetism which had led the airline staff to be so courteous. It wasn’t me working in everyone’s hearts. It was God. God had saved us. God had led us out safely. Everything had been because of God.

I’m not saying this because I want to portray God as a magic genie who granted me all my wishes. I’m saying I was in trouble, deep trouble, and while I endeavored all that was possible for me, the rest was the grace of God. I didn’t force him and I didn’t deserve it. God didn’t help me because I was so worthy and superior. But I turn to him, every night, every day. And I did turn to the Blessed Mother. And that is the lesson: in all things, turn to God. I hope the experience had allowed me to embed this lesson into the deepest part of me, so that I do it in all circumstances and not just when things seem their darkest.

Thinking in English Language School, Chihuahua, Mexico

You may have noticed I haven't posted in a while. Sadly, we have had some trouble and have had to leave Chihuahua.

Mexico is a wonderful place and the Mexican people are intellignet, kind and generous. But the people we worked for at Thinking in English language school in Chhuahua are, to put it bluntly, scumbags.

We were lied to. We were ripped off. We were manipulated. Derrick Woods, who is somehow the owner despite not being able to manage money, doing no work, and being the most reprehensible human I have ever meant, never came through on a single thing he promised. We got no work visas, our overstay fine was not paid. He stole our last pay.

Looking back on it, Derrick Woods and Thinking in English lied to is about almost every single thing since we got there, and then put us in the horrible situation of being in the country illegally through no fault of our own. We trusted someone who is being, and has been in the past, sued for bad business practices and not paying salaries and taxes. He's been accused of rape. He's assaulted teachers.

If you see an ad and are thinking about coming here, Do NOT Work at Thinking in English in Chihuahua, Mexico.

Thinking in English is a small, American-owned language school in Ciudad Chihuahua. It is a horrible, unprofessional, demeaning place to work, and anyone who thinks about teaching there should be warned what they are getting into.

A lot of promises will be made and lot of manipulation attempted. Here are only a few of the things which happened there:

*They promise to help with you with your visa. I worked there ten months, with my apostille, visa money, and paperwork ready the first month I was there. They never got me my visa and kept the money they took from me to get my visa. They also promised to pay the fine incurred for overstaying a tourist visa, then did not do it. They ripped me off for my last pay as well.
* Never paid on time, not even once.
* Derrick Woods bragged about ripping money off from other teachers in the past when they dared to give notice they were leaving.
* Constantly promised things they didn’t do, such as put new A/Cs in the classrooms. The air conditioners already there barely work and they make you open the doors and windows during class so that mosquitoes and other bugs get in.
* Promised free Internet, then made us pay for it.
* Promised free breakfast, then never had any.
* Promised free lunches, then many times had nothing, even knowing some teachers would have no time to get anything else to eat before class. Or they bought a half pint of rice and a half pint of chopped meat to feed four or five people.
* Never ordered books for the students until after the course had begun, which resulted in students not having any books for three or more weeks into the courses.
* Never had basic supplies, like markers for the whiteboards or even working CD players in all the rooms.
* Would not maintain the printer, so teachers could often not make worksheets or exams because the printer did not work/was out of paper or toner.
* Will not pay taxes and benefits teachers are entitled to by Mexican law.
* Do not assign classes to the teachers until the day the course begins, so teachers have no time to plan, then changes the schedule repeatedly with no notice. I’ve seen classes have four or five different teachers in one course, which is three months.

* Derrick Woods downloads pornography onto the only computer at the school.
* No supplies for the kids classes save for one bag of crayons and one box of markers.
* Derrick pays absolutely no attention to suggestions made by teachers, even when he asked for them. He also lies about pretty much anything (“The swine flu shut us down for a month” - lie: the flu shut the school down for six days) and will not keep any promise he makes. Over and over again, I saw him promise people he would be in the office at a certain time to pay people or discuss things and then not show, without even calling and giving an excuse.
* They promise free satellite TV - that’s because they’re pirating it.
* They’ll promise free accommodations if you live at the school - DON’T. Two out of the three “apartments” at the school are hotel-size rooms, bed and bath, nothing more. The other is a bit bigger, but also, no kitchen. And they can’t even make up their minds about whether they’ll keep these or tear them up to make new classrooms, so if you go there expecting to stay at the school, be aware that you may be evicted any time. In fact, be aware of that anyway, because the owner is so unstable he can never be trusted to not show up at any time and threaten you, like I know he has done to other teachers.

* Most of the teacher editions of the textbooks were stolen.

* Used to present itself as a Christian missionary school, until Derrick ripped off so many people that the orhanization pulled its funding. He also lied about this repeatedly, saying the school was still Christian and that he stopped being a missionary because of ideological problems. I imagine their reluctance to keep dealing with a thief and a liar, who on at least one occasion attacked a teacher, might be considered an ideological problem.

* Has been sued in the past for trying to rip off employees for pay and benefits. Is currently being sued for trying to rip off employees for pay and benefits.

Most of these things I witnessed myself, but some I had to find out from people who used to work there.

I am not some newbie who’s never taught before and likes to complain. I have a US state teaching certificate, have taught in schools in the US for five years and have taught EFL for another six years. This is the worst school with the worst people running it I have seen in three countries. Go there at your own risk.

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Via Crucis: Jesus Is Condemned to Death

The church we go to in Chihuahua (which is called Espiritu Santo, I found out finally) has some quite nice stained glass in the ceiling and on the walls. The most obvious ones document the Way of the Cross, with an extra at the end of Jesus' resurrection, common in Mexico (I like this. Good to remember the story has a happy ending.)

Even though the Way of the Cross is usually promoted during Lent, I can't wait that long. I thought I'd share some photos of the windows in Espiritu Santo.

Number One: Jesus is condemned to death

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Via Crucis: Jesus Is Condemned to Death

The church we go to in Chihuahua (which is called Espiritu Santo, I found out finally) has some quite nice stained glass in the ceiling and on the walls. The most obvious ones document the Way of the Cross, with an extra at the end of Jesus' resurrection, common in Mexico (I like this. Good to remember the story has a happy ending.)

Even though the Way of the Cross is usually promoted during Lent, I can't wait that long. I thought I'd share some photos of the windows in Espiritu Santo.

Number One: Jesus is condemned to death


<img src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b9d602b3127cce98548a2dc07700000035100AZsnDls2buWKA" />

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Milagro Died

The day before yesterday, he suddenly started acted sick. He vomited several times, including various things I wouldn’t have believed he had in his stomach, like big chunks of carrot and bits of plastic, and didn’t want much to eat. But yesterday, I thought he was on the mend. He ate, he drank some milk (a thin liquid made from low-fat milk powder), he seemed more alert. I held him, put him in my lap or had him close to me all day and all night while I worked on getting some freelance jobs.

Finally, I went to bed about 2 am. At roughly 3 am, he started meowing weakly and stirring. I thought this was because he just wanted to be closer to me, so I held him against me as I laid on my side. But after a while, it become obvious something was wrong. He kept meowing in a weak but strident sort of way, and when I picked him up, he was limp. He breathed heavily at first but got weaker and weaker.

I held him on my lap and prayed and prayed for him to either get better or die - just let the torment stop. After an hour, he was still hanging on, so I decided to say the rosary. I held him in both arms and started the prayers. By the time I got to the first mystery, he had stopped breathing.

Milagro was a beautiful kitten, with soft gray fur and bright green eyes. He was affectionate and very intelligent and tough. So tough. He was sweet and loving and wanted nothing but for someone to love him. And I do, and always will.

Goodbye, my little angel. I’ll see you again some day.

Milagro resting, a couple of days after we brought him home:

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Biblia Bilingue

A few months ago, I decided I HAD to get a bilingual Bible. I actually have two Bibles in Spanish, but after seeing another person's bilingual Bible (even if it was a Protestant one), I knew I had to have one. It hadn't even hit me that such a thing existed until I saw it, and then it was all like YES! I WANT IT.

I tried to just find one in Chihuahua, pero es no va (no go). After a bizarrely long time, it occured to me I could order one online, but all the ones I looked at were rather expensive, even before the international shipping costs. (Note to US vendors - quit giving shipping breaks to Canada and not Mexico, you racist capitalist swine.) And at last I thought of my new favorite online bookstore, Better World, which not only has a good selection and inexpensive shipping (less than $4 per book, anywhere in the world), it also gives part of all sales to literacy funds and rescues used books from extinction. Huzzah! Get good and make good.

So I went ahead and ordered a very nice-looking leather-bound Catholic bilingual Bible from them, and began to play the waiting game. This is the part I hate, because every time I order books, I want them NOW, and every day I am in a fever of anticipation and mild fear that they won't arrive. Or that when they do, no one will be around to accept them and they would get to the downtown post office and require all sorts of wheeling and dealing in order for me to get a ride down there to retrieve them. Or get hung up at customs for no particular reason (Guangzhou never did release my $50 copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows). You're so vulnerable when you're in love.

Every day for the past three weeks, I've danced around the mailbox trying to catch sight of the book or a "pick up" slip, but every day, nothing. Until today! Hooray, it has arrived!

Thus, I must sing a song of praise to Spanish and Mexico. I've already covered Better World Books. Dig 'em.

1. Spanish is connected to Latin in a much purer way than English is, and I love it when Spanish words for things are like the more high-level English words. Example: yesterday, one of my adults classes asked me what "behavior" meant. I gave my usual sort of stuttering explanation until the light dawned. "OH," one of them said, and wrote down in his notebook, "Comportamente".

I love that.

2. People in Mexico are WAY more polite than Americans, and, strangely, Korea. Everyone, and I mean everyone, greets each other with "Buenos dias" or "buenos tardes". Men hold the door openfor women. If you drop something on the floor, someone else rushes to pick it up for you. All conversations start with inquiries into how you are feeling and how your family is, and people are genuinely interested. And something happens in Mexico on a daily basis that I saw maybe five times the whole year I lived in Korea - men give their seats to women on the bus, even teenage boys. Doesn't matter the age of the woman, males get up and offer their seats with a gentlemanly flourish. I saw this happen maybe five times in Korea, and always to old or pregnant women.

3. Mexico - they work hard and they play hard.

4. La comida! I know I've praised Mexican food before, but you can never praise it enough.

5. Menudo (the boy band) WAS NOT FROM MEXICO. In a related note, Bruce Lee was not Japanese.

6. Rosaries a'poppin'.

7. Mexico has day care centers, children's hospitals. extended close-knit families, babysitters, etc., but Mexicans never seem to be under the impression that raising their kids is ultimately anyone's responsibilty but their own. They're not always looking for ways to blame the school or teachers for everything their kids do, and they don't scream and threaten litigation to get everything their own way for their own needs, all other people be damned. Ejemplo: I was doing an activity with a high-level class in which they had to imagine they were hotel managers and had to come up with solutions to some problems in their hotel. One problem was there was nothing for kids to do and they ran around the hotel aimlessly. i did this about a thousand times in China, and my students there came up with good solutions involving hiring nannies, building playgrounds, etc. - pretty much what I figured were the "right" answers. But my Mexican students, all women with children, unanimously came up with ideas to educate people on how to take care of their own kids and how to spend more time with their own families. Bravo!

8. The kids I see in Mass are the most well-behaved kids I have ever seen in church. Ever.

This has gotten a bit away from my Bible, hasn't it?