Posts by Andrew Eshleman
Hello again from Lima! It’s a cool Sunday afternoon here in Miraflores as we progress through CC’s Anthropology of Food in Peru. Our most recent development is that we have started to undergo the research and writing process for our final projects. Our professor allowed us to select a random topic from a hat, which contained various ideas about regional, cultural and festive food items. Behind this seemingly simple and tasty research project is a challenge–Mario deliberately chose these topics because they had less literature available. Thus, we’re forced to go out and eat these foods, talk to people and experts on streets and restaurants and overall become less reliant on our standard student methodology of immediately hopping on research databases and Google. For those of you that are unfamiliar with the great variety and history in Peruvian food, our topics include items such as:
Pachamanca: a pre-Hispanic form of barbecuing the involves the cooking of different foods (most often meats) in the ground upon a hot bed of coals, enclosed by rocks, leaves and other insulating materials. The real slow cook! Several varieties of this method exist in New Zealand and Hawai’i.
Ceviche: A very popular dish in Peru, Ceviche is a mixture of fish, lime, onions and other spices. However, it is unique because the fish is cooked using “denaturization,” which uses the acids of lime juice to deconstruct the proteins within the fish (essentially cooking it, but without heat). The result is a scrumptious dish of “cooked” fish served chilled and commonly accompanied by camotes (sweet potatoes) and choclo (a variety of large-grain corn grown in Peru).
At first this was a difficult transition for us because we simply couldn’t find anything on the internet or within printed texts. How the heck are we supposed to approach a topic as pioneers of the field? We don’t know anything! But thanks to the aid of Shelley and Mario throughout the process of narrowing down our topics, we now stride confidently through the streets of Lima in search of pachamanca and ceviche restaurants. In addition to talking about food theory and cultural dishes in class, our group has also taken a few recent excursions to places like El Barrio Chino (Chinatown in Lima) and El Museo Nacional de La Gastronomía Peruana (National Museum of Peruvian Gastronomy). As we continue to learn more about the roots of the many different foods here, we move closer towards understanding better both the unique diversity of cultures in Peru and the life of an anthropological foodie.
These large ceramic containers were often used in the pre-Hispanic period for a primitive version of fermentation in order to make the famous Peruvian drink “chicha.” In the Incan empire, it was considered dangerous to drink water by itself, since contaminants were known to cause epidemics. Thus, plenty of chicha was made during this period with the aid of saliva from many different community members. Yum!
Según el calendario chino, el 2013 es el Año de la Serpiente (Foto: USI)
When we originally set the date to visit El Barrio Chino, we had no idea it would be Chinese New Year! Upon arriving, the streets were teeming with people, bamboo shoots and crazy dragons dancing around. Definitely the right day to visit.
Until next time!
After our first month in Lima, we’ve gotten into the rhythm of class and exploring the city. Our group has explored numerous museums, archeological sites, local attractions and more during the first block. Everyone took his or her own approach to block break—some of us stayed in Lima to relax and explore while others traveled to areas like the northern coast to enjoy the lush green reserve and beautiful beaches. And now, three days into our next course, we’re back into business mode.
A central component of our new course, Anthropology of Food, is the process of research (especially since we’ll be turning in a 20-page research paper as our final assignment). However, Shelley Harper, who is a librarian at Tutt Library back in Colorado, has been given the opportunity to join us for a week here in Peru. Throughout this first week, Shelley has been giving us useful tips and strategies for approaching this research process; each day we dedicate about an hour of our class time to learning about new and effective methods for researching unique topics. That is to say, our professor Mario Montaño has given us final paper topics that are specifically chosen for the reason that they are less developed, and this can make the research process challenging when there are fewer secondary sources to work with. Nevertheless, with the help of Shelley we are now well on our way to narrowing down our topics and collecting sources for Friday’s bibliography workshop.
Throughout our first few lectures and assignments from Mario, we have all been transitioning to the mindset of the anthropologist. We’re invited to think about food not only as something that we eat three times a day, but as something that at its root defines the very people who eat it. Mario constantly emphasizes the importance of food and its relationship with society—analyzing food can tell us about poverty, social customs, history and even politics. For example, we recently read and talked about an article that discusses culinary history in pre-Hispanic cultures from South America. As human beings adapted themselves from being simple, nomadic tribes of hunter-gatherers to domestic, agricultural societies, several important evolutions occur. Food once was and still is an important pillar in human life, and its presence, or lack thereof, can truly define a civilization. The Incan empire was one of the first well-organized civilizations to emerge in South America; through the lens of food, our class has talked about how nobles and common citizens’ lives reflected a disparity that was generated by food. While nobles had an abundancy of food, which was often a product of power and control over a newly developed agricultural society, common citizens ate more sparsely. Nobles had large dinner corridors, servants and often regal eating traditions whilst other people simply ate off the ground in their small house. At the root of all these differences is food, and as we continue to explore the culinary history of Peru, and more generally South America, we look forward to uncovering more about how food deeply affects the social structure of our lives.
Today we visited Villa El Salvador for the second time as volunteers. This particular site is incredibly well-known for its historical significance but also poverty. The story originally takes place just outside of Pamplona, which is roughly six miles south of Lima. Previously an abandoned site, in 1971 it became occupied by over 200 different families that sought refuge in a new community. The population thrived, and shortly thereafter, a violent conflict erupted between the new tenants and the central government, which resulted in numerous deaths, widespread international media coverage and intense outcry within Peru. After the conflict finally came to a close, the government resolved to create a new community site, this one 12 miles south of Lima that would be a more suitable location—Villa El Salvador it would be named. Still, the new roots of this community were shallow and unstable in the beginning; the vast sand dunes seemed almost uninhabitable. Today, Villa El Salvador is a recognized “food desert,” in anthropological terms, and still suffers from poverty. As volunteers, our plan is to visit once a week to play soccer, volleyball, jump-rope or whatever fun games the center has planned with the kids. While some of us were outside playing and romping around with the diverse group of kids that gather each day at the center, several other students were indoors helping reorganize the community’s small library. Service trips such as those to Villa El Salvador are important to our group—not only do we enjoy spending several hours each week giving back to these bright young children, but it also helps provide essential perspective of the place in which we’re studying and living.
For those of you who don’t know, Colorado is currently undergoing a massive educational reform (or, at least it’s trying). Here are some scary statistics (and if you don’t believe me, look ’em up):
*The average cost of educating one child annually is nearly $13,000
*District 11 (here, in Colorado Springs) is suffering from a lack of funding (which comes from federal dollars and tax revenue–like amendment 64 and the recently denied 66), barely scraping by on about $8,000/year per student
*The average cost of maintaining one inmate in prison is nearly $33,000 annually
*Not only is the U.S. ranked almost dead last in international performance tests such as math and science, it also ranks the highest on how students felt they performed. So, our ego is rather unjustifiable.
*The U.S. spends less of it’s annual GDP on education and early childhood development than almost 20 other nations.
^ Notice the troubling trend?
The short and dirty version is that one of the newest and most supported ideas is the STEM curriculum (Science Technology Engineering Math). With many think-tanks in education considering how to refocus American education and make it more competitive, this curriculum was created in order to reflect American values such as ingenuity, entrepreneurship, problem-solving and critical thinking. The implementation of this curriculum requires teachers to be trained with an interdisciplinary focus instead of one that is specialized so that students may study in a way that incorporates all of STEM’s values. Colorado educators have taken to this curriculum idea, and last week my class was fortunate enough to participate in a STEM symposium, which was comprised of educators from all across the state. The purpose was to discuss strategies for STEM’s implementation, including funding and investment, teacher preparation and the fine-tuning of the curriculum itself.
Many current models of the STEM education have had great success, such as in states like North Carolina, where rural and inner-city schools achieved a higher level of academic performance. But Colorado faces a number of increasingly difficult hurdles towards the implementation of the STEM curriculum. In contrast to most states, Colorado’s schools are run on a district level instead of the state level. Most states provide guidelines and standards by which districts and schools format their curriculum. However, the power in Colorado to manipulate curriculum lies within the district. There are over 160 school districts in Colorado, making the standardization of teacher evaluations, funding equity and policies nearly impossible. Imagine attempting to create a single policy that meets the needs of all districts in Colorado. The simple answer is that there is no such policy. This brings us to the next barrier against STEM in Colorado.
Senate Bill 191! Well, what is SB191? This bill proposes that instead of teachers working within the standard salary ladder through which they have worked for years (wherein as teaching years at an institution increase, generally salary also increases), these teachers should be paid based on performance. Wait a minute. Didn’t we just say that in Colorado there are over 160 completely different districts with completely different needs and populations? Under SB191, teachers’ pay will be determined based on two primary things: 1.) evaluations from peer educators and/or students 2.) test scores. It would seem to me and I’m sure many others that this bill overlooks several serious issues.
1.) Students are not machines. Their performance on a test does not determine their scholarly capacity, nor does it determine that effectiveness of a teacher at a testable and verifiable level. What if the student was sick that day? What if that student’s mom just died? Wouldn’t you fail your test that day too?
2.) There are bad teachers and there are bad students. But how do test scores distinguish accurately between the two?
3.) Principles, peer educators and even students will all have a different way of evaluating a teacher. Even if the form by which everyone evaluated teachers was exactly the same, the results and responses would be inevitably different. A principle from Grand Junction, Colorado is unlikely to have the same evaluation methodology as another principle in Colorado Springs.
The list could go on, but the idea that SB191 is problematic should be clear enough. So why is this Senate bill not only bad for teachers but also bad for STEM? Well, with the standard model of the specialized teacher provides for simpler evaluations. Measuring whether students have mastered specific concepts in solely Biology is easy. How does one go about measuring a student’s critical thinking skills? What about problem-solving? Teamwork? Interdisciplinary incorporation and ingenuity? And let’s not forget that these evaluations pertain to hundreds of thousands of teachers that teach millions of students. Senate Bill 191 is on a direct collision course for STEM.
I would like to touch on something that is also important–open mindedness and prioritization. Don’t get me wrong. I very much support the refocus of American education, and I think students could benefit greatly from the STEM model. However, my experience at the symposium was different than I had expected it to be. My classmates and I were the only undergraduate students present at the symposium (and for the most part, let’s be honest–we were quite easy to spot in discussion groups). Initially, it seemed that the STEM discussion leaders and other educators from Colorado were very interested in our input.
“Ooh ooh! What’s your major?”
“Are you going into education? What might you teach?”
“What was your high school like? Do you like the idea of STEM?”
But when several of my classmates and I started asking the hard questions like, “Why?” and “Is there any data or research to support this idea?” no one listened. They wanted us to believe that we had a voice and a role in this symposium, but the dark truth was that this symposium had a different motive. This symposium was to present propaganda for STEM; it wanted the seal of approval from the educators present. Our ideas for the implementation of STEM served only as tools for the STEM think-tank. A perfect example is when a high school teacher from Western Colorado stood up and asked, “Is anyone else noticing the complete lack of statistical support for this method? I think the ideas are great, but what real proof to we have that this stuff works? How can you convince me to become a part of this without real evidence?”
The room was silent. Maybe two people out of one hundred clapped. And of course the panel speakers were unprepared for this question. This wasn’t supposed to be the course of things. Eventually one panel member responded with a generic, vague, unhelpful statement and the symposium moved on. Everyone just forgot about that high school teacher and his incredibly important question. After the speaking panel, I approached this high school teacher and gave him my thanks for speaking up and asking the hard questions virtually no one else was willing to ask. On the verge of tears, he described to me the crushing pressure of a teacher in today’s system. Each day he teaches what he thinks is important and good for children, but the system is telling him to teach something in a way that is clearly ineffective and bad for students. So when the principles come by, he writes his curriculum objective on the board and says his “Yessirs” and “Yes ma’ams,” because these are the people that pay him, that secure his job. He said he saw the tears in many teachers’ eyes that day, for they had experienced the same, tormenting problem. And yet, no one is asking the hard questions. Shouldn’t the hard questions be the first questions? Should we care more about being recognized for our ideas, or more about getting something done for the future of this nation? This whole education thing isn’t just about children or money or equity or politics. It’s about what happens to all of us in the next 10 years.
So I pose this last question to all of you out there, students and teachers and everyone in between:
Where do you want to be in 10 years?
Let’s roll up our sleeves and get something done out there.
I’m currently taking the class Frameworks in American Education with Mike Taber (who is incredible, by the way). Today we brought up the idea of the new paradigm. That is, we discussed in class possible paper ideas where we propose a shift or change in the American educational system. One of the ideas that came up is inspiring adulthood and responsibility at an earlier age. Having done research already on a variety of domestic and international educational models in combination with being a public school student K-12, I feel this to be a pressing issue.
Education in America is compulsory, which means that children are required to begin school at a certain age and continue that schooling until their graduation from high school. As we progress through this experience, we’re told to do this and that. You should get good grades. You should ace all your tests. You should place well on the ACT or SAT. You should go to college. You should graduate. You should get a high-paying job. But is all this for the sake of what? Our educational system here in America manufactures students. It produces mass quantities of students who have no idea what they truly want to do with there life. Where along the line did our system forget that education is for the individual? Is my education for the sake of the boss who will be hiring me upon graduation, or is it for me as a responsible, adult human being?
My high school was a magnet school. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this idea, students choose a track within their high school either upon entering or within the end of the first year. For example, my high school was an Arts/Science Magnet. We offered tracks such as instrumental music, vocal music, graphic art, traditional art and science. Once you have chosen a track, you are assigned an adviser and you work with that adviser in order to construct a four-year project within your magnet that will eventually be presented or completed just before graduation. Sound familiar? This process definitely prepared me for my experience here at CC. Declaring a major? Well, done that before. Worked with an adviser? Check. Worked towards completion of an intensive major or project? Mmhm.
The magnet experience provided for me. I know how to manage time. I know how to undertake a massive responsibility with intimidation. I know how to be a leader and how to also work in cooperation with others. High school experiences vary greatly from place to place and school to school, as I have observed in meeting many different people in my three years here. But what if an adult level of maturity, of preparation, of responsibility, became the face of American education? What if the emphasis in education shifted from getting a job to something more derivative of a capable worker–being a good, functioning adult? This is not to say that we should eliminate World History classes, Algebra classes or Chemistry. But in a fast-paced world where you’re expected to hit the ground sprinting and expected to survive on your own, shouldn’t we be given the tools to do so?
The future in education is in building human beings. The future lies in building capable adults. This is derivative of everything. Dreams, aspirations and goals stem from the tree that is intrinsic motivation; how can we possibly find our own calling without being given the opportunity? We should be inspired by something other than money in our educational experience, realizing that more than just a job comes from years of sitting at a desk, writing assignments and reading textbooks. How are we expected to change this issue in education? I’m not exactly sure. Maybe there should be more magnet schools available. I intend to find out more in the writing of my paper. I am continually impressed and thankful for the wonderful thought and dialogue that comes from CC courses.