Taking a Sabbatical South of the Border: An Adjunct Retreats to Mexico
by Roy Freedman
Upon waking up in Guanajuato, Mexico for the very first time, on January 4, 2008, I planned to connect with my chosen Spanish-language academy (my anchor, so to speak, in a foreign land). My second priority was locating a suitable apartment for the next three-and-a-half months (more on that later). My third order of business was to find English teaching work. I knew I would have plenty of spare time, and I always need to feel productive. The extra money would help me breathe easier, as I did not yet know how to gauge my expenses. Finally, teaching would be an excellent opportunity to meet local people. I knew from previous experiences overseas how easy it would be to retreat into speaking English with fellow students studying Spanish, tourists and expatriates, many of them unable to speak much of the local language, and thus avoid the difficulty of communicating in another language.
Sure enough, from my Spanish-language school staff I found out about two private schools hiring native English speakers. From my landlady, a retired dance professor at the University of Guanajuato (20,000 to 30,000 students depending on the source), I got encouragement, an address, and names of people to approach about teaching work. And from Mitch, a friendly and very loquacious Oregonian, who seems to have found the revolving door at the Mexican-American border, a few more teaching contacts. He advised me that December/January and July/August see the highest turnovers of teachers, so I had arrived at a good time for finding work. It was welcome news.
Being a long-time college adjunct, the University of Guanajuato was my employer of first choice. Teaching English there would, perhaps, be a plum job with much prestige. However, for the spring term they hire in December. In addition, I was staying only until mid-April and the college’s Spring term ends in June. While on campus, I spotted a prominent courtyard wall displaying photos and credentials of people offering to teach English privately. I didn’t know if these individuals were teachers looking for extra work, or rejected part-time faculty applicants like myself. I did learn that classes at the university can contain up to 39 students, although they rarely do, and that beginning instructors earn 65 pesos an hour (about $6.50). I was told that if I worked less than 20 hours a week, no working papers were needed, but if I worked more than 20, the school would help me with documentation. (Tip: If there are any papers you can obtain from a Mexican consulate or embassy in the States, get them. Once you are here, you are at the mercy of the gods. However, thanks to NAFTA, it is perfectly legal for Americans to work in Mexico without having to secure a work visa.)
Because so many Americans and other English-speakers head back to the U.S. for the Christmas holidays, I found more work than I wanted. I started with a private school called “Discovery.” The Director wanted to see my résumé (which I wisely brought with me to Mexico), and I started out teaching teenagers two hours each Saturday. The school didn’t provide much in the way of lesson plans, and I didn’t like the textbook, so I created my own lessons and found teaching materials, mostly around the school. This worked out fine, I thought, and no one ever questioned my judgment—or even asked me what I was teaching.
Naomi, a fellow instructor, was packing to go home after her stay in Guanajuato, with her new Mexican fiancé in tow. She offered me her class of elementary age students; I readily accepted. However, I subsequently thought it over and realized that having spent most of my teaching career in college classrooms, I did not feel comfortable teaching little children. I turned down the class the next day.
No sooner had I turned down the job, then I was hired to teach English to advanced students working in the Palacio de Gobierno (Governor’s Palace), a fairly plush building housing the Governor of the State and his staff. Every Tuesday and Thursday morning from 8:30 to 10:00 a.m. I taught conversation and advanced grammar to up to half a dozen very bright and motivated adults, two of whom were preparing to take English oral exams in order to enter British universities on Mexican government scholarships. We used a roomy boardroom, had coffee, soda and water waiting for us every morning, and every piece of equipment and all of the supplies I needed. The Governor wants his people to learn English in order to improve tourism and other commercial enterprises involving the U.S. He wants to draw some tourists away from the Mexican beaches inland to the charming towns like Guanajuato, neighboring Miguel de Allende, and Dolores de Hidalgo. For what I sometimes considered the best teaching job I ever had, I was paid the royal sum of 100 pesos ($10) an hour, tax free, no paperwork, no supervision, no meetings. My boss was glad to have a tireless, native English-speaker aboard.
Many adjuncts will moan: just more low wages, except in pesos. Not true. First of all, many Mexicans don’t earn 100 pesos a day! One hundred pesos an hour is a princely sum. You can get a four-course meal for 40 pesos or less, attend a first-run movie for 30 pesos, and see a touring Broadway show (“Rent”) for 100 pesos. A bus ride across town cost 4 pesos. I sometimes felt ashamed of the “wealth” I accumulated so easily.
The woman who oversaw the English-teaching contract with the government asked me to take over her intermediate class, and I gladly took this early evening class (six-seven jovial workers). I also earned additional money helping her decipher the oral section of the TOEFL examination. The Discovery school then offered me another course that ran two or three nights a week, but I turned it down. I was in Mexico to learn Spanish, rest from the heavy adjunct teaching load I had every fall (three colleges and six-eight courses), develop relationships, and generally enjoy myself. I am a fairly careful budgeter, and had saved up a lot of money for my “sabbatical,” and earned decent money teaching the classes I had, so I wasn’t desperate for more work.
Besides the danger of accepting all teaching offers and winding up overworked like a typical American, there are other stresses to cope with when teaching in Mexico. In addition to the strain of trying to get your needs met and understand a foreign language, there are the mysteries of another culture. I sometimes suffered from a lack of sleep. Mexico is a noisy place: barking dogs, people out late in the streets, church bells, roosters crowing at the break of dawn, and canons and firecrackers going off at any time to commemorate some Saint’s Day or another.
My work with the government employees ended well: there were classroom parties, gifts and e-mail addresses exchanged. Not so with Discovery. I had instigated a romantic relationship with the school’s owner, but it ended badly. Despite this situation, I had such a successful stay in Guanajuato that I am seriously thinking of moving there to live and work. I know now it’s possible to find good friends (Mexican and American), good apartments and good work south of the border.
