Gringa stardom shines on...

Disclaimer: Eye haven´t had time two reed over this entry, sew if its riddled with errors, plz fourgive me.

Getting kicked off the school computer in six minutes...a poorly written post is better than none at all, yes?

Here goes.

In retrospect, perhaps I should have titled the entire blog "Pitt Status" instead of one lousy entry as it has emerged as a common theme in my Chilean life. And so it continues...

I was called out of class on Wednesday because there was "a visitor of esteemed status" awaiting me in the front office. My students and I were in the middle of a fairly intense pictionary/charades hybrid game. I've found to be quite effective for practicing vocabulary, plus I score "cool teacher" points from the kiddies. Anyhow, the office assistant was booed as she guided me out of the classroom (rightfully so...we had a tie game and there were "stars" yet to be won). After being promised an individual of elite standing, I was disappointed to find the principal of the town's only high school. He informed me that he was there to collect me so that I could assume my duties as head judge of the English Festival. 

When? Tomorrow? Next week? Next month? "Oh no," he laughed. "We're going right now. It starts in five minutes and you're the guest of honor," he offered as though this were common sense. Right, well I'll be right there after I'm done teaching my class. "Nah," he says, "they'll be fine." I'd like to know in what world he thinks that thirty twelve-year-olds left unsupervised will be just fine? (I later found out that one of the little unattended angels set a fire in the trash can...good thing I make the students dispose of their explosives in the school yard trash bin.) Once again, without warning, I was whisked off to make a celebrity appearance. I've gone through all of my applications and emails from the volunteer program, and this was definitely not one of the job requirements. 

When we arrived in the high school, I was lead to the auditorium and pushed out onto the middle of the floor as the announcer's voice sounded through the ancient speakers in static-laden echoes, and "K-K-K-Kelsey C-C-C-Connard f-f-f-from d-d-d-dee USAAAA!!" Lots of thing happened at once. I became aware of the fixated stares of hundreds of judgmental high school students, I was barraged by the other judges who were shoving papers in my hand, and the high school English teacher was trying to reach my cheek to give me a besito (definitely a legal midget...or small person I suppose is the more politcally correct term). On top of all that, a microphone was being waved in front of my face. I did the most logical thing when one has a microphone at his or her disposal...and gave the auditorium and awkward wave and a grin. It sufficed.

 

The idea was that hosting a talent show (actually more of a singing contest) would spur more interest in actually learning English. The variety of songs the students chose to perform was astounding...ranging from Aerosmith ("Walk This Way"....interpeted as "Wok Dees We") to Rhianna ("Umbrella"...interpreted as "Umber I Uderella"). One band chose to perform "Smells Like Teen Spirit" (I was warned before arriving how much Chileans love Nirvana). Let it be known that I don't even understand the lyrics when sung by the original artist, let alone through an ancient sound system, off-tune instrumentals, and a thick Chilean accents.

At the judges table were three other judges, none of whom spoke English. We were in charge of evaluating the student performances based on vocals, stage presence, fluency, and pronunciation. After each performance, the judge next to me casually copied down all of my scores, number for number. The next judge copied her scores, and so on and so forth down the line, until all of us had duplicate scores. As far as English pronunciation and fluency were concerned, all of the performers tied for last. I ended up determining the winner by selecting my favorite song of the bunch. So, first place went to a scrawny boy who did a decent cover of "Tiny Dancer" by the one and only El Ton-Jon.

The judges table (and yes, that woman wore her sunglasses the entire time): 

The heavy metal garage band (my ears are still ringing):