First, there was getting to school. I'm not great at getting from Point A to Point B. I've got a terrible sense of direction so I'd been dreading having to walk to school. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to do a dry run and I desperately didn't want to be lost in a foreign country. So, I woke up extra early both to psych myself up and to give myself enough time to get help and not be late for my 3 pm class. First, before I was ready to leave, I went outside to see if I could see a path from the house. I could, but I could also see some sort of animal. It kind of looked like a badger mixed with a lemur. And my brain was telling me there was no reason to be afraid, it doesn't look menacing and if I saw it on TV I would probably think it was cute, but my stomach was like let's go inside and never come out again. But it's kilometers away, my brain protested, at least get a picture for the blog! But my stomach told me that's how people get eaten so I went back to the safety of the house.
After unsuccessfully trying to find a route on Google Maps I left the house at 1:15. I was told there was a hill behind the house that I'd have to go down to get to the university. This was a lie. What was behind the house was no less than a mountain. I stared down this
Given it's size, there seemed to be no way to go around. To get back to the path I'd have to go around the neighborhood and I didn't want to explore when I hadn't mastered the original path. Still, I figured getting to the bottom must have been possible because apparently the last student did it every day.
So I started down the mountain, felt like I was going to fall, and shuffled back up. I found a part that was more flat and looked like it had been walked down before. Luckily, no one was around for my arthritic crab walk down the mountain. Two steps, stop, two steps, stop. Somehow I made it to the halfway point and was able to shuffle the rest of the way down.
I took another picture of the mountain, partially to gain sympathy from whoever happens to read this, but partially to delay from my next obstacle. Someone decided to build a medieval style moat at the bottom of the mountain.
Tell me you couldn't see this filled up with water and crocodiles.
Once again I had there was no way around it (unless I went back up the mountain). So with reluctance I climbed into it and had to pull myself up over the giant hill on the other side. I was really glad I was wearing sneakers and shorts, but then I remembered a lot of the clothes I brought were dresses and that most of my shoes are sandals, many of those with some sort of heel. Looking forward to that mess.
The rest of the walk was relatively uneventful. It was actually a really simple path and much shorter than I thought it was. So then after a quick stop to the ISA office I was at FSU.
There are a lot of Americans at the university or at least a lot of people speaking English that have bleached hair so I'm making some assumptions. But all in all it seems to be a mixed bag of people from all over.
I've come to the conclusion all of my professors have some weird secret or quirk. I guess I still have to met two of them, one tomorrow and one in 6 weeks. Still I think it's a pattern
The Spy. My first professor's accent was all over the place. It's not that she didn't speak English well, she did, it is an English class after all. I definitely picked up at least five different influences though. It was like she couldn't make up her mind, and it got more noticeable as the class went on. First it just sounded normal, with some hints of a British accent for some words, but then it sounded more Spanish which I thought made sense, then it was a little Russian and from there things just went wonky. It was never the same thing five minutes later. I'm pretty sure she either is or was a spy.
My next class was not taught by a spy. For a little while I didn't think it was taught by anyone at all. There were no students in the room and no teacher in sight. I checked several times that I had the right room, I even asked someone. Finally, I went and sat down. Another girl followed shortly after me, then a boy, and then the prof. And that was it. Smallest class I've ever been in. The professor said we were supposed to have 5 but they never showed up. I like small classes, but not this small. It's way too personal. It's like the professor is having a conversation with you during the lecture, and you've got to make all this eye contact and look engaged. The boy checked out pretty quickly so it was up to me and the other girl to prove that yes, we were listening.
What's my country again? I don't think this professor had a secret so much as a quirk. At first I thought he was just trying to acknowledge the fact that he knew I was American. This was my History of Mexico and he kept making references to Mexico in terms of American things. Just like this such and that such in the United States. And I thought, that's nice he's trying to water things down for me. But as time went on it stopped being just for me. I think he's taught in the United States recently because he kept mentioning the US and explaining things from that perspective. It was the strangest thing because we're in Panamá and he barely mentioned it and when he did often as an afterthought. He kept making these mistakes like saying, "...actually a lot of the cars we have here, in the US, are made in Mexico...and Panamá, many of the cars here as well." He's a big fan of Mexico as well, I'd hope given his field of study. He really did talk it up quite a bit, and made me want to visit even though I'd never wanted to before, even if he did do it in this weird "Mexico is actually better than the US thinks" kind of way. He's really passionate about teaching, so much so that he becomes disturbingly animated.
I already feel like I'm the worst student in there because it's been forever since I've taken a history class. And he kept saying "as you know" in reference to things about Mexico and I didn't know them. He said that about US things too, but it was about the southwest and the west coast which I know nothing about. The furthest west I've been is Alabama. There was this wonderful moment when the kid on the other side of the room had fallen asleep. He did it in a sort of inconspicuous way, so that the prof might not be able to see if he was at the front of the classroom. Except this professor moved around quite a bit. He was asking us about the richest man in the world, who apparently lives in Mexico. He kept getting closer to us trying to get one of us to answer. Well, really I think he was just trying to get one of us to say Bill Gates so he could correct us. And just as he was about to be in the part of the room where he could see the sleeping guy, sleeping guy wakes up and gives the right answer. It was just like a movie. Anyway, my point with this is that even sleeping guy knows more about this class than I do.
The Super Villain. My last professor of the day was definitely the most interesting though. He too had some sort of accent thing going on. It was more consistent, but seemed to be a strange mix of things. It was mostly British sounding though at times it seemed German but I think it's because he always spoke in clipped tones. He kind of reminded me of Sheldon from Big Bang Theory. He's very...particular that way. He gets real up close and personal with everyone (not hard in a class with five people). And I think he just wants to be a hands-on professor but he definitely comes across as a super villain. He's tall and bald and wears a suit plus he's got all these little mannerisms and says words like 'detestable' and 'lamentable' regularly. It's really funny. If he were to suddenly say "I'm going to teach you about Panamá...while you're hanging over this shark tank" I wouldn't be surprised. That's not to say he isn't friendly. He's strict with course work, but after explaining what the class would be about he tried to get to know everyone personally. He asked us all where we were from and why we were taking the class and engaged in a little dialog with everyone. He's one of those who knows a little something about everything so he always had a lot to say about whatever we said. So he's more like one of those Bond villains that's going to serve you dinner and be affable. Either way his deliberate manner of speaking made even the most innocuous things sound like they were laced with double meaning.
"I have lots of fun things to do."
"That is why I am the professor...and you are students."
"I needed him to *pause* be aware of certain things."
"Normally, I have better things to read than student papers. *long smile* Well that wasn't very nice, was it?"
Still I think it's going to be an interesting class. During my Q + A session, I found out he'd heard of University of Richmond, he has a colleague there and he has a really high opinion of the place. Then he was even more excited when he found out I was a philosophy major because he says they do better in his classes. So after really talking up UR and philosophy majors he told everyone he has really high expectations of me. Which along with probably making all the other students hate me puts me in this awkward position where I can't just leave.
So after that long day (each class is almost 2 hours long) it was time to come home. It was really dark, but there were street lights and Mama assured me it was a safe neighborhood, so I wasn't that worried. One guy wolf whistled at me, but it was a really half-hearted wolf whistle, like he wasn't really sure how to do it and he felt he had to because that's what they tell women to expect. Part of me thinks he was actually just some other American trying out whistling to see how he liked it. And while I don't appreciate that he used me for objectification experimentation he stayed a good 20 ft. away from me so I didn't have to jack him up.
Soon I was back in the part of the neighborhood with residential houses again. But the thought of climbing the mountain again in the dark seemed less and less inviting the closer I got. By the time I was at the foot, the prospect of both climbing and not being able to see if there were any critters around turned me off completely. I decided to go around in the streets until I found my way back home.
At first I was nervous because as I walked there didn't seem to be any path leading in the direction of my house and the house numbers appeared to be going further and further away from where I wanted to be. I worried that I'd have to head back and climb the mountain after all. But then jackpot! I found a flight of stairs leading up the mountain and was now back in area I belonged.
I saw an animal in someone's driveway that turned out to be a cat, but I didn't baby talk at it because I didn't want to become the subject of a horror movie. Soon I was minutes away from home, I could see the cars and everything. Then I saw another critter. I was pretty sure it was a cat, as I'd just passed a house I knew had at least 3 cats, but still I started to get nervous. I suddenly couldn't remember what ocelots looked like and wasn't sure if I'd just seen one or not. Then I became convinced that an ocelot or a lynx or some other wild cat was waiting for me around the corner. But then by the time I got there it was gone. When I got in I remembered that ocelots look like this:
and what I saw looked like:
Either way I'm glad to be back, but still very sleepy so I'll actually post this tomorrow. Until then here's the Panamanian version of Phoebe from friends.
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