While in Choshuenco, we eat at a wonderful local restaurant called El Rucapillán. Though the meals are filling and flavorful, my favorite part of dinner in Choshuenco is always the pebre. Pebre is a traditional Chilean salsa, often spicy and always delicious. Each night in Choshuenco, we find a different pebre on the table. Sometimes it’s mild and bright red; other nights, garlic-filled and salmon-colored, others still, spicy and pale pink. It complements every meal wonderfully, from simple bread and butter to sausage and bean stew. Since we first arrived in Choshuenco, I’ve been determined to learn how to make it. A stilted but successful conversation with the owners of the restaurant settled the plan for Sunday evening, just before dinner.
After a sun-filled afternoon on the beach of Lago Panguipulli, Emily and Allison decided to join me on my culinary adventure. We eagerly made our way to the restaurant, where Veronica ushered us into the kitchen. She was delighted to have three new American pupils, and immediately washed and organized the ingredients: seven or eight plump tomatoes, a handful of yellow ají peppers, a couple small green hot peppers, and two bell peppers. As Veronica sliced up the vegetables, she chatted with Emily, Allison, and I about our hometowns. We discovered that Veronica has a childhood friend who lives in Emily’s home state of New Jersey, and that TV shows have led Veronica to some strange assumptions about Allison’s home state of Texas. As we learned about each others’ hometowns, Veronica tossed the ingredients into a blender with half a cup of water, and pulsed the veggies into the rose-hued salsa that we all adore. She poured the fresh salsa into a large glass jar, and as our conversation drew to a close, we thought our simple lesson might be over.
But we still needed to add salt and the critically important ingredient, cilantro. Veronica hurried off, and I assumed she would return with a handful of cilantro from the fridge. Instead, she beckoned for us to follow her. Out of the kitchen and through the laundry room, we followed her into an alcove behind the restaurant, where we found ourselves surrounded by raised beds. She bent down and plucked a few leaves off of a plant, brought them to her nose, then ours – fresh oregano!
We proceeded to follow her on a tour of the garden. Inside a small greenhouse, cucumbers and tomatoes climbed towards the ceiling and basil grew steadily; beside the greenhouse, squash and zucchini plants flowered. Veronica pointed out the herbs in the raised beds lining the restaurant wall: cilantro, oregano, a local variety of rosemary, and many more. She picked a handful of cilantro and a pinch of rosemary. We munched on a freshly plucked cucumber as she told us that the restaurant uses herbs and vegetables from their garden as much as possible – especially when they make fresh pebre.
Back in the kitchen, Veronica briskly chopped up the herbs and added them to jar. After a heaping spoonful of salt, the pebre was complete. We each tasted a small spoonful, oohing and aahing over the perfect freshness and spiciness. Veronica was delighted, and we left the restaurant a small bowl of pebre all for ourselves – as well as a great new friend!
At dinner, with bowls of our freshly prepared pebre on the table, Emily and Allison chatted with their friends about the recipe, making plans to prepare it at home for their families. “We should make it in the cabanas!” said one of their housemates. Everyone was excited to practice the new recipe, in Chile and back at home. It was a fabulous end to our weekend of paddling and roll practice, a wonderful moment of cross-cultural learning to conclude our final weekend in the Lakes District.
Written by: Angelica Calabrese
The day after students arrived, we began academic classes. One class, Physics, immediately took their heady concepts and formulas to the test.
During a Physics Lab last week, the students were asked to consider the forces of gravity, drag, and impact on a given object. In our Physics class last Wednesday, the object was a raw egg.
Gravity, when left entirely to its own devices, will cause a falling object to accelerate. So, as we all know, if you simply dropped a raw egg from a ~4.35 meter ledge (as the students did), that thing should definitely break! But, students were asked to help create "drag", or air resistance... or friction (all synonyms that helped me understand this concept) on their egg so they could slow acceleration and hopefully keep the egg from cracking.
Another way to protect the egg is by displacing or slowing down impact. If you protect the falling egg with some kind of buffer such as bubble wrap, the time of impact will increase, so the intensity of the hit will be spread out over... maybe .5 seconds instead of .25. In this way, the students could also attempt to protect their egg.
So, our Semester 10 Physics students were given a variety of materials to increase drag and decrease impact. The one caveat was that they could only build one device. They couldn't have something attached to the egg and on the ground; they had to get creative. And, they did.
Some built elaborate pillows dangling just below their eggs to decrease impact. Others, as you'll see in the picture below, made parachutes.
We're so lucky to have an academic environment where our kiddos can learn hands-on - test their ideas and learn from their experiences. Not one egg broke!
Hello from Alzar School, and Happy New Year!
- Teachers or teaching fellows for the 2017-2018 school year (school year starts in early August, with training for teachers starting in July). See teacher and teaching fellow job posting. Apply online for teacher or teaching fellow position here.
- Director of Expeditions and Risk Management (this is a full-time, year-round position that will start once the candidate has been selected). See Director of Expeditions and Risk Management job posting. Apply online for Director of Expeditions and Risk Management here.
This position has been filled.
The Alzar School is accepting applications for a current Math and Physics or Chemistry teacher opening beginning Thursday, January 5th. Candidates applying for teaching positions should have at least ONE of the following academic qualifications:
- Teaching certificate
- Education degree (undergraduate or graduate level)
- Master’s degree in content area (Math or Science discipline)
- 2+ years teaching experience
Additionally, candidates should possess advanced technical skills and be able to lead in at least ONE of the following activity areas:
- Whitewater rafting (up to class IV)
- Whitewater kayaking (up to class IV)
- Backpacking (5-6 days in remote locations)
Spanish proficiency is desired, but not required.
This is a paid, annual position with the opportunity for contract extensions each year. This position will likely teach some combination of math (Geometry, Algebra II, Precalculus, Calculus) and either Honors Chemistry or AP and Honors Physics. Depending on the composition of the semester, he/she may also be asked to assist in the physical education course for students. The teacher will have residential life and expedition duties.
Curious about Alzar School? Check out our website.
Interested in the position? Read more about being a teacher at Alzar School here.
Planning on applying? Apply for the position here. Application will remain open until November 18th, or until filled.
More questions? Please contact Director of Studies, Laura Bechdel (email@example.com).
Recent college graduates or outdoor professionals without classroom experience should consider our teaching fellowship program.
During this Unit in all of our English classes, we've been exploring the value of a literary movement that is widely accepted as having begun in South America. The most famous female author from this movement is Isabel Allende, the niece of Chilean President Salvador Allende. It seems fitting we'd explore her style of literature while also exploring her homeland.
In our AP English Language & Composition course, the students spend their time analyzing and debating the greater meanings found in these incredibly poetic and complex pieces of literature. Ultimately, they write an analytical essay arguing for what they believe the greater meaning of one of these texts to be and supporting it with textual evidence. It is one of the more challenging essays they'll write this semester.
In our Honors 10th & 11th grade English courses, the students are also expected to analyze and discuss the major themes of these and other Magical Realism short stories or excerpts, but afterward, they are asked to employ those elements in their own writings. In class everyday, I have my students analyze "visual texts" and then write Magical Realism pieces telling their stories. These smaller, in-class activities allow them to develop these complex skills and then ultimately apply them to personal writings in which they expose their emotional experiences.
Because the purpose of Magical Realism was, and has always been, to communicate that which is tragically real in spite of the fact that it may have never truly happened. You say, "Uh... whuh?", and I understand the confusion, but I'll clear it up quickly. In the news, when reporters say that another hurricane hit Haiti, or when you read in your history textbook about lynchings in the post-Civil War South, you can't really comprehend what the emotional effect of those traumatic events was on the people that survived. Sometimes those experiences were so tragic and so disorienting for them that the way they felt was not at all the way they factually were. Anyone who has experienced this kind of helplessness, fear, or trauma understands. There are myriad examples of this style of writing in the American canon; The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien, Beloved by Toni Morrison, and Everything Is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer are just a few of these types of famous, tragic, and beautiful stories. Maybe you read them and were so caught up in the web of their accounts, you didn't stop to ask yourself what of it was actually real? Maybe you knew, and you didn't really care?
So, out of respect for my students' privacy and creative genius, I'll allow them to share their pieces about their personal lives with whomever on their own time. Here, however, they've allowed me to share their in-class writings. So, suspend your desire for facts, and walk slowly through their web of truths.
Carrie Ann Baade's following painting was interpreted thus:
The butterfly lady was always a myth my mother would tell me when I was a child. She was a beautiful woman who wore a magnificent green dress and walked around the woods followed by butterflies of every species...I always dreamed of meeting this butterfly woman... as I grew up my childish ambitions died and I joined the real world. Got a job as a photographer... after returning from Japan my boss next sent me to Mexico to photograph the annual monarch migration. When I arrived the number of butterflies was insane. I got beautiful pictures but then all of a suddent time seemed to freeze and from the middle of the grove a multitude of different species of butterflies appeared and I went bak to that little girl. I saw the womand was so captivated I forgot I had a camera to take a picture... when I returned home, no one believed me but I knew I had seen the butterfly lady." - Jake V.
About this painting by Carrie Ann Baade, Amparo M. wrote:
"It was Fall in the small town. The trees were dressed in their most fiery coats and the hunter's wife was weeping. Over the course of the year, after the hunter's immense success selling rabbits, he had found in a reality constructed by liquor, the most intense pleasure in beating his wife... Even though she tried to hide it, her sorrow was palpable in the air around her. And the town's people ceased to buy the hunter's rabbits in an act of empathy to the poor wife. But the man was full of rage, and the abundance of rabbits in the woods provided a source of output for his violence. The Hunter's house began to fill up with carcasses..."
Sebastian C. was inspired by this painting from Carrie Ann Baade's collections. He wrote:
"I try to control my mind as much as possible. But my thoughts are not my own, at least not completely. I don't understand what I am. I speak and hear my voice, but I think and hear two. Deciphering what thoughts are my own drives me crazy.... My sister and I have grown up with this our whole lives. She used to yell when the roaring voice came into our heads. She fought it so much, never calming down. She grew so tired, loosing sleep at nights with the roars in her head. She became so weak that she stopped fighting. She let the roars overpower her own thoughts..."