Puberty

A few days ago I observed a sixth-grade class in the (relatively) large school in the center of the town.

This particular school is called Francisca Garcia Elementary and it is one of four primary schools where I work in my site. It’s also one of two pure-grade schools (the other two are multi-grade schools where 1st, 2nd and 3rd grades are with one teacher, and grades 4, 5, and 6 are with another). I’m still not officially teaching classes right now but my plan is to start getting into that in early May.

Anyway, I arrive in the school in the morning—less than a ten-minute walk from my house—say hello to the principal and walk to the 6th grade classroom. When I get to the doorway, all the kids shout Buenos Dias, forgetting completely whatever it is they were doing and jump to their feet to the sound of scraping desks. Then it is my duty to say siéntense, and they all sit down noisily, clearly savoring the interruption.

I greet the profesora quickly and take a seat. I always try to observe the Natural Science classes since that is the class I’ll be teaching. This particular day the lesson is on the reproductive system, and specifically the discussion is about puberty.

I can’t remember exactly when my first sex ed. class was, but I think I was in middle school…7th or 8th grade. It strikes me that many of these kids are a few years younger than that…

The teacher calls upon three girls by name to come to the front of the classroom and stand. The three girls gingerly get out of their chairs and exchange shy smiles. They walk to the front and face the rest of the class, leaning on the chalkboard and fidgeting with the skirts of their school uniforms.

The teacher then poses the following question to the whole class:

“What about these three girls is different?”

It takes me a second to realize that this is actually happening. The teacher had chosen girls who are obviously in different stages of development and had asked the rest of the class to point out their physical differences.

There are shouted comments to the effect of:

“That one’s got bigger boobs!”

and, “That one hasn’t gotten her period!”

Obviously I’m a little surprised at this teaching tactic, but I stay seated and quiet, observing. The teacher proceeds to wrangle the rowdy class and lead a noisy discussion about secondary sex characteristics using the three girls as explicit models.

To my surprise, it seems to work; the class is asking questions…the material is being presented in a familiar context and the three girls do not seem to be embarrassed or emotionally wracked by the 25 pairs of eyes analyzing their physical development.

I can’t help but imagine this same scene taking place in an American 6th grade class: the tears, the parent phone-calls, the legal action…

This experience seems to indicate a fundamental difference between American and Nicaraguan culture and society, a difference I have been noticing as I become more and more integrated. In America we are first and foremost individuals, but Nicaraguan culture is defined by a sense of community. In other words in Nicaragua you are a part of a community first and an individual second.

It seems to me that most Americans would think that singling out certain girls and drawing attention to their bodies in front of an entire class of students would be extremely inappropriate. There is an assumption in America that we have a right to absolute privacy when it comes to our bodies, at least in any social setting. It’s a form of American individualism.

In America you probably won’t be told to your face that you look/are fat. You also probably won’t get comments about your zits or offers from friends to help pop them. In Nicaragua it happens all the time. That sacred personal space we have imagined for ourselves in America simply doesn’t exist here.

In Nicaragua, people don’t harbor personal insecurities about their bodies in the same way they do in the States. Sure it was a little uncomfortable at first to witness what seemed like abject rudeness, (and what seemed like extremely inappropriate comments about 11-year-old girls) but now it doesn’t phase me. I realized that people here simply don’t get offended by fat comments…and why should they? I find it extremely refreshing that people don’t take themselves so seriously as to be offended by something so trivial. I’m trying to adopt the attitude myself.

So, I feel fairly safe in saying that the social mechanics at work in Nica seem to operate on a different level than they do in the States, but I haven’t yet figured out exactly what that level is or how exactly it’s different from American individualism. My hunch is that it has to do with the more important sense of community that exists here. The community protects and accepts, scolds and rejects, and much of the responsibility of the individual seems to be downplayed because of it.

It’s a complex problem—describing how this cultural sense of community works—but luckily I have the next 20 months to think about it. I’ll be revisiting the theme.