Monday, July 11, 2011

Unleashing the Creative Genius of Peace Corps Trainees

Today us Education PCT's split into our "clusters," which are the groups we will be staying with once we travel to our training sites. There are eight of us going to Benguet, and another eight that are Community, Youth, and Family (CYF) Trainees. Anyways, throughout the day we had 4-two hour sessions on Reading, Writing, Listening, and Speaking English. I'm honestly considering taking our training schedule and notes home two years from now and presenting it to UNH to ask for my master's in education. By the end of these two weeks we will have had 96 hours of training (I counted), and then we're at our sites, doing all day training for another 9 weeks. I'm pretty sure that'd equal at least a year of hourly credits.
Anywho, in our Writing group today we did an exercise called a "writing chain," in which the teacher begins with half of a sentence and passes it to the first student, who finishes the sentence and continues writing the story, passing it to the next person, and so on. By the end of the circle we ended up with an AWESOME story. These are the people I'll be headed into the mountains with. I am SO pumped. Enjoy!

I woke up this morning, got up from bed, when suddenly my mom screamed in horror as she looked at my face. There was a huge pimple on my nose. She rushed me into the bathroom and the pimples began to spread all over my body as we looked in the mirror. My mother decided that we should show my father, a dermatologist by hobby. Before we reached him, however, the pimple on my nose began to talk. It said, “I’m the king of the world!” My mom agreed with the pimple. We wanted to let the whole world know so we took a plane to Zimbabwe because Leonardo DiCaprio was shooting a movie there, and as everyone knows he was the original king of the world. Also Zimbabwe has the best policy for dealing with people and things that think as highly of themselves as the pimple on my nose. But as soon as we got to Zimbabwe the pimple was exposed to the dry, African heat. It dried up and went away. However, I didn’t have enough money to fly back home and I will have to live in Africa forever.

The end.

3 Comments:

At July 11, 2011 at 9:09 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Becky - thoroughly enjoying your blog! Keep the updates coming! Your writing prowess is wonderful!
Sharon

 
At July 13, 2011 at 12:44 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Love the story today, but her Mom should send money for her to come back home. Naimbag nga rabii mo! Dad

 
At July 17, 2011 at 7:16 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Becky...Loving your blogs and stories.Aunt Kerry

 

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