The Future of English Education: As if the recession wasn't reason enough to depress you

Let me begin this blog by tossing out some props to my boy José Garces on recently being named the Next Iron Chef! For those of you loyal followers who are unaware, I worked in one of Chef José's restaurants (Tinto) in Philadelphia for a stint, so I was in a tizzy to hear he prevailed in beating out nine other chefs to win a place in Kitchen Stadium among Chefs like Bobby Flay and Masaharu Morimoto. I like to think I had a little something to do with his victory, even if there is no "measurable" basis for my claim.

I am happy to report that things seem to be chugging along on the job front, at least compared to the position we were in a few weeks ago. Lets go through this point by point:

1) The Anglo School: It seems we have secured a position as teachers for some English courses with the Anglo School in Montevideo. Come the end of January, Andrea and I will be jointly teaching an intermediate English class while Sarah and Kara will take on the advanced English course. Each level is divided into two classes, a morning and an afternoon, that meet Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays for four weeks. We have a meeting with some administrators on Friday to learn more about the training we will need to go through before we can start teaching, as well as to present them with any ideas we may have for the classes. I'm very excited for this gig, though I'm sure it will prove to be a substantial amount of work.

2) Profesoras de Inglés: In case you were unaware, that is the namesake of our private tutoring business we have been touting around Pocitos. Kara and I gave our first lesson on Monday, to a woman named Leticia. Leticia is a metropolitan mamacita with a beautiful house just a few blocks away from our apartment. Aside from having two lovely daughters (we were introduced to them via the framed photos on the mantle), she also has access to as much pizza as she wants! Her husband owns Princess Pizzeria. We sure know how to pick 'em. Anyway, the lesson went well. She already knows a fair amount of English and you can tell she is dedicated to her education -- She is very patient, doesn't really get frustrated, and stays enthusiastic. Our maiden voyage into the world of one-on-one teaching was a peaceful one.

3) The International House: Stroll down Avenida Soca for a few blocks and you'll run into The International House, with it's cheery yellow sign and a macédoine of flags from around the world (sorry, that was my word-of-the-day from Merriam Webster, I promised myself I would use it today). A little while back we had an interview with a chipper Canadian named Adriana, and we heard back from her today! After a quick trip to her office, we learned we each had an assignment to proctor English exams being administered around Uruguay. Andrea will be heading to Paysandu, Sarah will be on her way to Fray Bentos, I'll be schlepping to San Carlos, and Kara will make trips to San Carlos AND Maldonado. Now I'm not saying Kara used her womanly wiles to score the double gig, but I'm also not saying she DIDN'T come back from International House disheveled and breathless. Just kidding ya'll...kind of.

Funny anecdote: My flipflop broke on the way to the International House. I was stuck trudging down Avenida Soca looking like something out of a Mary Shelley novel. Being the charming American girls we are, we have made friends all over our neighborhood, and I received some help from a sheepish chico named Rodrigo at the local gas station. He was able to MacGyver some sort of paper-clippy contraption and essentially made my havaiana as good as new! Then again, maybe the gas-station gents were just trying to thank us for our generous patronage of there establishment (our collective alfajor habit probably pays their wages).

Well there you have it, more evidence that it's not ALL fun and games down here in Montevideo. I mean, sure, our days are spent going for sunny walks and runs along the Rambla, sipping mate on the beach, flirting with our adorable doorman, playing jovial games of Rummy and Congas, gorging ourselves on faína, watching Felicity and debating the pros and cons of Noel and Ben (I'm team Noel, for the record), and . . . yeeeah, I think you get the idea. It's hard out here for a pimp.

I'd like to end this post by giving a shout-out to Becky Steele, who will be visiting me for Christmas/New Years. And while I'm a little concerned about her delusions of Montevideo (she seems to have expectations of a tropical utopia, complete with champagne rooms at beach-front clubs and horseback riding through the ocean), I have no doubt she will have the time of her life. After all, a tan Becky is a happy Becky, and if there is anything that is basically a sure-thing here, it's sun so strong it could fry the freckles right off your face.

You stay classy, blogworld.