Coming Home or Why America is Awesome

I am currently enjoying a two week break here in the United States with my family. Unfortunately, I have had plenty of work to do, but the change of scenery has been nice. Here is an extremely scientific list of things I have missed while in Honduras:

1. American football: I went to the Ravens game in Baltimore against the Giants (the atmosphere was electric), and their away game against the Bengals (pretty subdued). I would have been able to go their playoff game against the Colts and see Ray Lewis's final home game had the NFL scheduled the Ravens game for Saturday, but instead the NFL put forth the most boring playoff game of all time, the Bengals vs Texans, on Saturday. The Ravens game will of course kickoff during my flight, but I should be able to catch the second half. You know, if there is power. Which there won't be because its Sunday in Honduras. Fuck. Note: I actually did realize this just now as I was writing. Damn you Roger Goodell.

2. Hot Showers: Yeah, they are awesome. And now I don't smell or look like Phillip Seymour Hoffman in Along Came Polly.

3. I have a car: As an avid proponent of the benefits of public transportation, it mildly pains me to include this on the list. And if I lived in a safe city that had a wonderful metro system, I probably wouldn't care about my lack of automobile (aka Madrid 2010), but I live in a rural town that only has a bus system. And these buses are considered the place to be if its past 8pm and you are looking to get robbed or murdered (one of my favorite students had an uncle murdered immediately after he got off one of these buses). But getting beaten or killed isn't my thing, so yeah, I really like having my new car that my parents generously bought me.

4. Movies: I am a film buff, cinema nerd, movie geek, or whatever the hell you want to call it. But in Honduras, I am movie starved. Without a local theatre or adequate transport (see #3), it is very difficult for me to see recently released films. And art house theatres don't exist. But at home I've gorged on a number of cinematic delicacies, including Life of Pi (Ang Lee is the world's most versatile director), Silver Linings Playbook (didn't know Robert DeNiro remembered how to act, didn't know Bradley Cooper could act at all), and Lincoln (intellectually intriguing, deeply moving, probably the film of the year).

5. Better Toilets: It's nice not to take a shit next to a wastebasket full of toilet paper stained with, well, your shit.

6. My family: Because they are nice, and I love them.

USA Election from Honduras

     On Tuesday, Barack Obama won reelection and will remain the 44th President of the United States. His victory is good for the country: as a result, 45 million more Americans will obtain health insurance because Obamacare will not be repealed. The Affordable Care Act will make Americans healthier,  more financially secure, and extend life expectancy. It will also end America's ignominious stand as the only developed country not to provide basic insurance to all of its citizens. The Dodd-Frank financial reform act will remain law, and Mitt Romney will not have the opportunity to cut programs for the poor. Unlike in Obama's first term, there will probably be no signature legislation over the next four years because of the do-nothing House. Obama now has leverage on the fiscal cliff issue, and it is likely top marginal tax rates will rise on the rich. With the economy still weak, it is not the ideal time to raise tax rates. But the politics of the situation demand Obama allow the rates to go up: he simply will not have another opportunity to improve the country's long term fiscal outlook due to Republican obstructionism. The payroll tax cut enacted by Obama should be extended, however. If they rise at the end of the year, the country may well fall back into recession. At the very least, growth will be stunted by falling consumer spending.

I did vote in this election, but the absentee ballot process is a pain. I voted in my home state of Maryland during the 2008 Democratic primary (bucking the trend of young people I voted for Hillary). I voted in North Carolina in the general election because it was a swing state, and in 2010 I was studying abroad in Spain. I sent in an absentee ballot, as I did this year. You have to have your ballot mailed to you; a backwards policy for a digitized world. At the very least, it could be faxed. In Honduras, which has a pretty nonexistent postal system (people don't have addresses), this is especially difficult. But I am proud to say I voted for Barack Obama and affirmed my support for marriage equality.

Though the economy is probably the most important to me, here in Honduras the central issue is immigration. Everyone here knows someone in the United States, and most people have family in the states. Though many Hondurans were unaware of American political happenings, those who were informed about the election were primarily concerned with immigration. They all understood that Obama was the candidate more friendly to Hispanics, and largely supported him for this reason. Though few had strong opinions on economic issues, most people here are socially conservative by American standards. Gay marriage is anathema here, and abortion is illegal and generally considered immoral.

Indeed, there has been a lot of talk in the conservative media about the need to attract more Hispanic voters. A number of prominent conservatives have already suggested that the party soften it up its stance on immigration to woo more Hispanic voters. Ronald Reagan famously said, "Hispanics are Republicans, they just don't know it yet." This isn't necessarily true- Hispanics tend to support big government- but it is absolutely the case that a softer stance on immigration could yield more Hispanic votes. In Texas, where Republicans politicians take a softer stance on immigration, Mitt Romney did better. George Bush, who was to the left of his party on immigration, won more than 40% of the Hispanic vote in 2004; Mitt Romney only garnered 27%.  This pretty clearly suggests if Republicans toned down the nativist language and softened their harsh policies, that they could curry more favor with Hispanic voters.

The United States would be a better place if Republicans jumped on board comprehensive immigration reform. Workers already in the country should have a pathway to citizenship, and America must do a better job encouraging highly skilled entrepreneurial types who are choosing other destinations likes Canada and Chile because their immigration laws are more friendly.

But for the moment, Hispanic voters made the right choice. Barack Obama has his flaws, but he is the right man with the right policies for the job.

Honduras: A Lost Opportunity

This week the Honduran Supreme Court struck down the country's proposal to build several "model cities" throughout the nation. These model cities would have their own tax and justice systems, and generally be a new start for several of the countries poorest regions. The plan for the model cities passed the Honduran legislature and was signed by the country's president Porfirio Lobo in December 2011. American investors were ready to spend $15 million on necessary infrastructure projects, and foreign investors were lining up to build factories and call centers. The cancellation of the project, assuming there is no way around the court decision, is a tragedy.

Indeed, many Hondurans oppose the model city on ground that it takes away their sovereignty as a nation. This is understandable: the model cities would have their own economic and legal systems, and even be able to make free trade pacts and control their own immigration laws. Nor would the cities be democratic initially: a transparency commission consisting mostly of foreigners would appoint governors and eventually decide when the cities were ready to transition to a democratic system. Would be members included renowned American economists George Akerlof and Paul Romer, as well as several other thoroughly vetted think tank types. The cities would be as autonomous as possible, something like a Hong Kong for Honduras. 

There is certainly a whiff of imperialism to the the whole idea, and most backlash against the project has come along these lines. Essentially, rich world types are entering a poor Central American country and saying "Hey, you guys are fucking this up. Let us run your country for you."Land would be taken from local people, including the long marginalized Garrifuna (black Hondurans), and handed over to the model city commissioners. These planners may see these growth centers as a utopian island in a sea of crime and corruption, but many Hondurans only smell condescension and belittlement.

But there is a but. Honduras is the most violent country in the world, and one of the poorest nations in the Western Hemisphere. Foreign companies do not invest heavily for security reasons and because of an unreliable investment climate. Domestic businesses are terrible, and the government sector is too corrupt to fix anything. An astounding portion of Honduran women become pregnant in their teens, and a tragic percentage of Honduran men become alcoholics. The education system, an absolutely critical component of long term growth and human happiness, is abysmal. All of this gets us to our but: opportunity costs. If Honduras was doing great, a risky proposal might be worth rejecting. But in the current state of the country, where institutions are failing left and right, model cities are definitely worth a shot.

And these cities are more than a shot in the dark: they have been well thought out and could have a tremendous impact. Model cities will bring jobs, increase income, lower crime and violence, and wipe away obvious corruption. The model cities will not become the next Silicon Valley overnight, workers will still be largely uneducated and low-skilled. There should be more focus on education in the cities, and business regulation will need to be especially strong in an environment where companies feel they are running the show. That said, it's still critical to have foreign investment. If corporations are investing in these cities, then their are more jobs. If there are more jobs, than people have more money to spend and the government recoups more in tax receipts. Education, security, and infrastructure will all improve because of the greater revenues from the humming economy. Foreign investment is not a panacea, but it can and would start a virtuous cycle. Hondurans, who often emigrate to the United States for money and work, could stay in their own country. The model cities would be safer, richer, and happier. Life would be better.

But alas, it seems this is not to be. I am not an expert on Honduran Constitutional Law, so I don't know if the court's reading of the country's legal documents was correct. But I am confident that their decision will be viewed as a mistake by historians of the future. In a country with few jobs but a surplus of crime, cities with new economic and legal policies could have have had a remarkable impact. Instead, Honduras will stick to its status quo, which has brought pain and unhappiness to so many good people. 

Power Outages

It rains a lot in Honduras. Not cold, harsh, uncomfortable rain, but rain nonetheless. Considering how hot it is, the rain can be a cool refresher after another 90 degree day. Indeed, the best times of the day are those before and after it rains. The calm before the storm is the time to be outside (where I live) in Honduras.

But the rain also brings something very, very unpleasant. This relentless malfeasance is dark, frustrating, boring, and potentially scary. It is, as any reader astute to enough to read the title knows, is the power outage. Let me tell you how much power outages suck: a fucking lot.

In the U.S., power outages are not particularly fun, but they are certainly bearable. Losing internet is rough, but I can watch tv show’s on my computer until its battery is dead. I can play games on my iPhone, and normally I can read. If the power is gone for a significant amount of time, I can drive somewhere to take a shit or recharge my electronics.

 In Honduras, power outages are far less fun and far more common. Watching DVD’s is sometimes an option, but often the rain is pounding so hard on my highly questionable tin roof that I can’t hear a word emerging from the speakers on maximum volume. I don’t have an iPhone in Honduras because of roaming charges, instead I have a cheap piece of shit with one game and no internet on it. Reading is the best option, but if it is after 6pm then you will be using a flashlight and squinting to see the words. People don’t go outside if its raining or if its dark; if its raining because it is uncomfortable, if its dark because its unsafe. Without power, I can’t skype my family or friends, watch television, check my fantasy team, or make copies of important papers for my students.

Still, these outages would be bearable if they were uncommon. But they show up about as much as a football game on television. A near certainty on Saturday and Sunday, and a likelihood at least a couple of days a week. A significant number of the weekend power outages are planned; the Honduran government remains incapable of producing a fully functional power grid.  Small towns and rural areas lose power more often than Tegucigalpa or San Pedro: city dwellers are more politically connected.

The overall point here is that power outages are 1. common, and 2. suck. Hondurans are used to them, but I don't think I ever will be. 

The Mosquito Coast

Upon deciding to spend a year in Honduras, I thought it wise to read up on the place. This has mainly involved reading Honduran related news, but has also included a helpful dose of historical scholarship on my host nation. Most of my reading, from both the journalists and academics, has been highly pessimistic. Honduras, despite its sunny weather, has an unfortunate history that has left a legacy of crime that dominates the headlines today.

Satisfied with my new knowledge of Honduras if unexcited about its bleak content, I turned to reading a novel set in Honduras.  Now I was not sure that this would exist, but one noteworthy piece of fiction stood out from the pack. The Mosquito Coast, by Paul Theroux, fulfilled my minimalist requirements of being an English-language novel set in Honduras, but also stood out for a couple of reasons. First, Theroux is a fairly acclaimed writer who has written a number of best-selling travel memoirs. Second, he comes from a family of writers, and is the uncle to Justin Theroux, who starred in Mulholland Drive and wrote Tropical Thunder and Iron Man 2. The younger Theroux is also dating Jennifer Anniston. I obviously deduced from this that anyone cool enough to have a nephew who picked up Brad Pitt’s sloppy seconds must be a good novelist. But then I, um, read the book.

The Mosquito Coast, to my initial concern, began in Massachusetts, before transitioning to Baltimore, a cargo ship, and finally Honduras. The novel, despite Theroux’s background as a travel writer is not about any one of these places. There are plenty of details about Honduras which immediately stuck out to me though; the terrible condition of the dogs in the country, the ubiquity of bananas and other cheap fruit, and of course the ever-present and always thirsty mosquitos scavenging for their next meal.

The focus of the book is the father-son relationship at its corps. Charlie, our narrator, is a perceptive 13 -year old boy. Like most kids his age, he is embarrassed and proud of his father. In comparison to other American teenagers, Charlie probably has more reason to feel this way. Charlie’s father is a genius inventor who knows everything. He can quickly rebut an agriculturalist on growing crops, or even challenge a preacher on scripture. When it comes to quirky inventions, no one top Charlie’s pa, called by his wife, Ally. But the man is also an eccentric, often rambling about politics or the end of America to innocuous observers.

The book is about Ally’s descent into madness. Or was he always crazy? He moves the family from its home in the United States to Honduras, where he brilliantly begins his own jungle civilization. But things go awry, and it seems that Ally’s mind follows. 

The Mosquito Coast is entertaining, but it falls far short of reaching the great novel plateau. The book’s largest problem stems from its central conflict: Ally’s fall from the reader’s grace. This could have been accomplished tragically (by emphasizing the impact it has on the family), hilariously (what’s funnier than insanity), or been suspenseful (will he get the family killed?). Theroux attempts all of these elements, but ultimately comes up short on all counts. The result is a readable novel, if not a particularly deep or funny one. 

Honduran Beers

I have taken a recent blogging hiatus for two reasons: 1. Teaching in 90 degree weather without air conditioning is tiring, and writing is less relaxing than sleeping, and 2. I have been sick/ having eye problems. Eye problems meaning one day I woke up and could not open my left eye. I still cannot see out of it, but at least it no longer hurts or looks overly red.

But now I return to tell you about Honduran beers. There are to be exact, four major beers. Not one, not two, not three, but count em' up and take it to the bank, four major Honduran beers. Going alphabetically, here is the rundown:

Bahrena: Its reputation is twofold: 1. the beach beer, and 2. the chick beer. But the thing you really need to know 3. is that Bahrena is terrible. Flavorless and tasteless, I really don't understand why Honduran women prefer this beer. OK, that's a lie. I think I know. They prefer it because the beer's silly marketing is effective and they feel like they should like it. But marketing does not a beer make. Nor does the validation of 20 year-old women in an unknown country in Central America actually make a beer good. So yeah, don't drink this.

Imperial: The reputation: a manly beer, for manly men, who do manly things with their strong, manly bodies. It is also bad. Tastes like Natty Light with twice as much as water. That said if you are going to hang out with a few Honduran bros, prepare to knock back a few of these guys.

Port Royal: The classy beer of Honduras. For better people. Might cost you a full two dollars in an upscale nightclub. Gasp! Don't worry its normally its less than $1.25. Other good news: Port Royal is a pretty drinkable beer. Kind of has the sense of a beer that knows its supposed to be finer and tastier than  its counterparts, but doesn't really know how to accomplish this. That said, the initial sweetness is nice and you can taste actual hops. Nice to enjoy on the beach or while watching soccer.

Salva Vida: The staple. The classic. You've just gotta have it. It's Salva Vida: the Honduran beer that's everywhere. Importantly, it also gave rise to the line, and rare Honduran pop culture reference,  "Yo no quiero agua, yo quiero Salva Vida," (it's a twist on a Pitbull line, and its fucking great I tell you). Most importantly, Salva Vida isn't that bad. Not exactly high praise, but the stuff is drinkable. So drink up, young man/woman.

Final, thing to note. Bud Light, Coors Light, and Miller Light are worshipped here. They are not any better, if at all better, than Salva Vida. But they are American, and they are symbolic of high status. So people love them here. Don't rip on them too much, if offered one, you will break a Honduran's heart. Just tell him you will have a Port Royal because you want to try the local stuff.

On Teacher Training

I attended one presentation on education in college, in which the presenter, David Stroupe, compared teaching to medical practice. Stroupe, a Phd student in education at the University of Washington, described in detail the absurdity of a very intelligent, recently graduated biology major trying to perform a simple medical procedure. He concluded- correctly- that such an individual would have no idea where to start, before subsequently claiming that sending that same smart upstart to the classroom would have the an equally disastrous result. Teaching, he felt, was a profession that required a careful honing of talent and significant practice.

The context of this opening was a speech about the failings of Teach for America. Mr. Stroupe had not been a Teach for America corps member, but he had participated in an alternative licensure program that had sent him to the classroom totally unprepared. Teach for America, he failed to note, sends its teachers to an intensive training program the summer after they graduate. Students hear from current and former teachers, learn the best instruction methods, and most importantly practice in a classroom. They are taught how to manage a classroom and grade a paper. Though five or six weeks of training may not be enough, it is significantly better than zero days.

I don't know if any studies have been done which confirm the importance of intensive training programs, but I certainly feel more prepared after my four week induction. One of the key lessons I have learned is that boring monotony is bad: students will retain more if lessons are creative and varied. A teacher writing notes on the board is worse than boring for the students; it also decreases the likelihood that the students will learn the material. My practice sessions with real students were invaluable; all teacher training programs at universities should require externships at a local school (most do, in fairness). There is nothing like being in a real classroom with real students; on disciplinary issues I think this is especially important. Before my training program I didn't want to do a seating chart, but after two days of training I realized the folly of my thinking. A well-thought out seating arrangement will lead to better behavior, (making my life easier) and improved comprehension on the part of the students (improving their life come exam time).

I did have some issues with my training. First and foremost, our trainers presented some arguments made by education scholars as fact, when in fact they were not. We were told to adhere to many vague philosophies that had never been tested, and evidence coming from regression models was presented as gospel. There is an enormous amount of bogus social science studies floating about on jstor and google scholar; a researcher displaying his understanding of statistics hardly means his paper is correct, or even close to right. Data on educational attainment is especially spotty, making me even more hesitant to believe some conclusions presented to our team of teachers. In social science fields where statistics are better recorded and more widely available, say political science and economics, there is still considerable disagreement. Changing the parameters of a test or controlling for one variable, can dramatically alter the conclusion. Different datasets on the same topic- say the effect of low interest rates on net exports- can lead to contrasting conclusions. The quantity and quality of studies in these fields has helped teach us a ton about the world we live in, but education is still a new field. Everything needs to be taken, and should be presented, with more than a few grains of salt.

I also thought we should have given more time to plan our curriculum. It would have been nice to develop our long term plans more, especially as first-year teachers. As it is, we have only a rough idea where we will be at the end October, let alone May.

As for Mr. Stroupe, I still find his argument lacking. Teaching is not really comparable to medical practice; there is a reason physicians are required to spend four years in medical school and serve at least three years as a resident. Their jobs, quite frankly, are more complicated and the stakes are higher. The evidence is pretty clear that smarter teachers who thoroughly understand the material they are teaching produce better results than their less brilliant cohorts; thus, it is important to get these people in a classroom. And while Mr. Stroupe and others criticize TFA and other similar teachers for their youth and inexperience, I think these traits can be an asset as well. Young teachers will be more willing to adjust and act flexibly; they will not be set in their (potentially misguided) ways. Moreover, teachers who know they are only in this for a year or two are more likely to work hard and give it their all than a middle-aged man who has been teaching for twenty years and knows they still have twenty more left to go.

That said, my teacher training experience has been positive, and I think every individual who steps in a classroom on the first day of school should at least have been in a comparable situation at some point. Mr. Stroupe is right that teachers need to be taught. All alternative licensing programs in the U.S. and abroad should require at least a month of rigorous in depth training. Installing such programs would benefit teachers, and more importantly, their students. And whatever helps them should guide educational policies.