Although I do have the opportunity to go to faraway, exotic places, many of the schools are right here in Texas, but they are as varied and diverse as any of those thousands of miles away. On one single driving stretch I chaired teams at a Catholic High School, a Presbyterian boarding school, and an Islamic pre-K through grade 9 school—I call that a good ole fashion religious sweep. And then to finish up, I evaluated a prison school. Yes, you read that correctly—a prison school.

This particular setting had 500 female prisoners and 500 male prisoners, many who had been incarcerated for a number of years and who were in what they hoped would be their last two to three years behind bars. And to have a decent chance at success they needed to finish high school, if in some cases even with a general equivalency diploma.

Our first surprise as a team was being met at the door and told we needed to show our driver’s license for identification and then empty our briefcases and purses on the spot. We could keep $20.00, but then we were required to take most of everything else back to our cars. We couldn’t even keep our lipstick. Now, when is the last time you heard someone spring a person out of the pen with LIPSTICK?

Next, we went through the metal detectors and were patted down by the appropriate guards. I wasn’t feeling really good about this and it was only 8:00 a.m.

After a debriefing from the warden who made it clear he did not like women, making several comments about how the women prisoners were harder to deal with than the men, I smiled, or maybe it was a slight smirk, and made some smart remark like, “Yeah, I noticed you aren’t wearing a wedding ring,” as if to say what woman would want to live with you.

He warmed up slightly knowing I was on to him, but continued to tell the team stories and sagas of the down and out women, who were in for various and sundry offenses, mainly drug-related, but one being in for leaving her baby in the car on a summer day only to come back to find her dead from the scorching Texas heat. Mostly, he talked about how everything was emotional to women, and how men just took it all in stride. I saw no need to argue since he had some good points, but by this time, I was “emotionally drained” from just listening, and told him we really needed to get on to the business we came for and that was to evaluate the standards we utilize and do some class visits.

Since the women and men are never allowed to see each other, we wound through a labyrinth of halls in order to take a tour and then began our classroom visits. In room after room, young men with fresh, almost cocky looks, mixed with the older guys whose faces revealed more hardened expressions, deep wrinkles and hollow resignation for wasted years. They were pleasant, respectful and courteous both in the classrooms and when we passed them in the halls. Of course, we were escorted everywhere we went, which was a new experience for me.

Next, we were taken to the female side, where once again we saw the young, the old, and the in-between. And then it became more apparent what the warden might be referring to. Many of these women definitely had attitudes and it didn’t take long to catch on to that fact. I’m sure many of the men did as well, but the women wore them like a badge of honor in full view.

Suddenly, I wished I weren’t so nicely dressed. If only I hadn’t worn my good jewelry, and it might be better if I had let my hair go a little messy. The school director sensed my apprehension, and quickly said, “These women need to see successful women; eventually they will be out of here, and they need to be motivated to do better the next time around.”

I didn’t feel a lot better, but I knew he was right. I just couldn’t quite put my finger on what I was feeling—was it empathy or disgust—the two emotions seemed to melt into a one. Looking back, I now know that it was, indeed, both—total disgust for the crimes they had committed and the lives they had led, and a woman’s compassion for the missed opportunities most had never even had the chance to grasp and the bad choices each had made.

But then came the moment that lightened it all up and made my day. We had just finished in a classroom and I was standing with the team at the door to leave. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a slight movement by a rather large (like 275 lb.) woman and as I turned my head just slightly, I saw her hand reach toward my butt, and at the same time, she said loud enough for the whole class to hear, “SWEET.” Laughter broke out as I stepped into the hall, and the laughter was coming not from inside… but from MY TEAMMATES!

Did you know that the capitol dome is taller than the U.S. capitol? I don’t think that is supposed to happen, but everything is not bigger in Texas for nothing.

Although I really like Austin, it truly is pretty outlandish, and if you don’t believe it, try visiting a few of the high schools. I chaired the reviews for all eleven, and I can confirm that the dress code is not exactly enforced; and I’m talking about teachers!!! Let’s just say that piercings and tattoos are allowed for young and old alike, and they are proud to sport them.

The funniest attire I saw though was this very large female teacher dressed in a purple velour sweat suit, a purple hat and purple shoes to match. But she didn’t stop there; her fingernails were at least an inch and a half long—so long they curled under, and they were painted purple with a little gold jewel in the middle of the index ones. Where did she find this outfit? How did she grow these nails? They had to be real—fake ones just don’t look this bad.

But the best story of my accreditation visits occurred at a high school in the southern part of town. Judy, the fearless former high school principal, was serving on the team. Just as the last bell rang, she stepped toward the front door. Just as she did, two students were scuffling playfully, and one accidentally fell against her. She didn’t fall, but obviously he made contact.

The other student yelled at him, “You f—— fool, you nearly knocked that ole lady down.” Judy was horrified when she came back to the room where the other members of the team were working. She related the story and reiterated, “Can you believe he called me an ole woman?” Forever the principal who could no longer be shocked, the f—— part went right over her head.

On this trip I’m going for an accreditation meeting and then to present a training for schools going through an upcoming accreditation review. So, I’ll be working some and playing a little. We always manage to go to great restaurants and find time for fun.

When this trip is over, I will have logged over 50,000 miles on Continental just since January. That doesn’t count my travel on Southwest Airlines this year, and there were several trips with them as well. I told you I traveled a lot. I don’t make this stuff up or anything else in my blogs. My life is just one big crazy happening, and I love it that way!

Cindy in Quito

As you know I am home now, but looking back on my recent trip I realized I never really said much about Quito, Ecuador, which I enjoyed and found quite interesting. I understand now that Ecuador is not exactly on everyone’s “must see” list and many folks can’t actually pinpoint it on the map.

Thank goodness for “My Weekly Reader!” Remember that little newspaper that we referred to in the 60’s for all the geography our elementary teachers thought we would ever need?? If you don’t, you just aren’t old enough or you weren’t paying attention in class.

One reason I am acutely aware of Ecuador’s lack of geographical prominence is from my conversation with the credit card representative. As always before a trip, I called to tell the company where I would be using my charge card, and the gentleman on the other end of the phone asked is that “Eq—–?” I quickly spelled the country and then there was a long pause. I knew that he was having trouble processing where this little country might be, so I added, “in South America.” “Oh, that Ecuador!” he replied.

My first order of business in the city was, of course, shopping, which is something I am quite astute at doing wherever I go. And bargain shopping at the markets is especially fun to me. Unfortunately, I think now that all the indigenous people in Latin America have gotten together and decided to make the same items. After being in a number of these markets in various countries, I found it difficult to find anything “new” to purchase, but nonetheless, I shopped until I managed to find a few souvenirs. These purchases of various sizes and degrees of fragility always seem like such a good idea until I start packing to return home!

The next day I took a city tour which included the colonial old town and other cultural highlights. In every Latin American city, this means churches (lots of churches), the Plaza of Independence, the Presidential Palace, often the catacombs as we saw here, and various museums. But the part I was most interested in seeing was the Mitad del Mundo, better known to us as the Middle of the World or where the equator marks the exact center of the earth at zero degrees latitude. Located about 16 miles north of Ecuador, the Middle of the World Monument/ Museum, is the most visited site in the country. Of course, everyone visiting that day, including me, had to have photos taken standing with one foot in the northern hemisphere and one in the southern.

Then, it was off to more shopping in the market around the monument and a short break at one of the open air cafes, popular because the weather in Ecuador, due to its proximity to the equator, is always mild and really very comfortable. Nights are cool, and day time temps quite pleasant. The sun, however, can sneak up on unassuming folks, so Panama hats are sold around every corner. Ecuadorians claim that authentic Panama hats are made here, but I never confirmed that, nor did I buy one. There were enough silly looking people wearing them without me joining them.

Seven hours after leaving the hotel, I returned for a long bubble bath, followed by a delicious tenderloin ( especially good after seeing some of the stuff they were selling on the streets) at the Hacienda, located in the Marriott where the members of the visiting accreditation team were staying. Since this was the real purpose of the trip, the next three days were comprised of work, evaluating the Academia Cotopaxi, named after the highest volcano in Ecuador, rising majestically in the Andes near Quito.

Although I say work, it is always a great experience because I have the opportunity to meet teachers who have taught in various places all over the world. The student population is also composed of interesting young people from diverse backgrounds and ethnicities, a high percentage being children of diplomats or international business executives. Others are local students who hope to attend universities in the States and then return to their native country.

And so another trip has ended, with a country added to my journal, new friends and acquaintances to correspond with on occasion, and more memories to carry with me. Maybe someday I can visit the other places where the equator “divides the world,” but for right now, I’m content with this one.