Learning to read good

This past month I've been tutoring a 19-year old boy who can't read. Johnney said he dropped out of school after Grade 8, sadly because his father refused to give him bus money anymore. Not only was I horrified that a parent could withhold education from a child like that, but I was shocked that he had even made it to that level without knowing how to read. How do so many teachers not notice? Or what kind of techniques does a student adopt to slip under the radar that long? Illiteracy is a scary thing that is becoming more and more common, or maybe I'm just becoming more aware of it. And it's not just in Grenada.

Well the good news is that Johnney can read. He's very limited, but he knows the alphabet and I'm teaching him phonics so he'll know the sounds for all the letters and can decipher new words himself. Many kids I've worked with use "sight recognition" to pick out words they already know, which is a great memorization skill, but also hinders them when they mistake any similar word for one that begins with the same letters. The great part about teaching adults though is that they already have a wider vocabulary than children, so you don't have to always explain the meaning of words. So with Johnney, once I teach him the rules of a sound, he can name examples of words that apply. He's a great student, patient and hard-working, and every session we have together is an encouragement to me to keep going. I've never taught adult literacy so this is a learning experience for me too. And I'm thankful to him for trusting me, as his teacher and confidante.

Got milk?

I knew there would be sacrifices I'd have to make when I came to Grenada. I was willing to adjust to cold showers and hand-washing my clothes, mosquitoes and cockroaches everywhere I turn, anything that you could throw at me. But milk in a box? Which for some reason doesn't need to be refrigerated? What?!

That is why I dedicate this entry to Real Value Supermarket for providing me with REAL MILK! Maybe they've had it all along (I don't even want to know), but I just now found it and it's changed my life!

My first funeral

Death is something foreign to me. I've never had anyone close to me die, except one of my adopted grandfathers, but even then I was young and don't remember feeling that affected (and I caught the flu the night before so I wasn't able to attend the funeral). So I've never gotten to experience that kind of mourning and therefore have always been a bit afraid of funerals and death. But I know it's something I'll have to deal with sooner or later.

Three of my volleyball friends lost their father this week, so some of us players went to the funeral to support the brothers. I felt a little awkward at first, feeling out of place not only because it was my first time, but because my first time was going to be in another country. So many thoughts went through my head: "Am I dressed appropriately? I'm the only white person here. Can I talk to my friends during the wake? Where should I stand at the cemetery? Why are people walking over other graves? I don't know the words to this song. How can those gravediggers act so casual? Why am I crying...I never even knew this man." So many emotions flooded over me, putting myself in the shoes of someone burying a loved one.

Funerals can really wake you up...even the funeral of a stranger. It reminded me to not take life for granted. To be more vocal with the people I care about. To treasure each moment I have with friends and family.

In the end, I realized that funerals aren't all that scary. I know it's not going to be that easy when I lose someone close to me, but I feel slightly better prepared for it now. My favorite part was afterward, how the family and some close friends went back to the house to eat, drink, and play draft (their version of the game Checkers). It was encouraging to see that mourning didn't have to crying and wailing, but spending your time in community. Some people refer to funerals as a Celebration of Life and I like that. Because we'll all die someday, but we should be happy for every minute we get to spend with the people we love and how they've touched us.

How you know you've made it...

Having lived in Grenada for a year, we as Peace Corps volunteers have learned that it's no big thing to be on TV here, since Grenada is a pretty small island and there's bound to be media coverage at most of the community events we attend. Well I'm not gonna lie, I still think it's pretty great when my neighbors or friends tell me they saw me on TV the night before.

But on a larger scale...

One of my close Grenadian friends named Lisa just spent the summer in New York with her extended family (ironically there are more Grenadians in New York than here on the island). Since they missed out on Carnival this year, they found a Grenada Carnival 2008 DVD somewhere on the streets and bought it to feel connected to the action. Well she just called me and it turns out...me and my friends are on it...dancing in the streets front and center! She said she started screaming and pointing at the TV screen, yelling "I know those white people! That's my friend Rachel!"