Class Tactics: The Will of Armistice Breaking Down

I’ve been struggling with thinking of a way to introduce my first week of classes in Montevideo, Uruguay. How do you make a full day of classes more interesting? Rowling threw in a little magic, Jeff Kinney through in a socially unaccepted kid; Boy Meets World introduced … a boy to the world. I suppose I have la gorra charrúa.

La gorra charrúa was something I didn’t learn about until my Uruguayan Culture class on Tuesday, March 15th but once I learned it, I’ve been applying it to the entire week of classes. It’s a term of indigenous origination that technically means “the claws of Charrúa.” The Charrúa was one of two major indigenous groups (the other being the Guarani) that lived in la Banda Oriental, or the area of Uruguay, before colonization. The Charrúa kept fighting Spanish conquistadors and other invaders until their complete distinction. Ironically, the first Republic government of Uruguay exterminated the last remaining indigenous but today, Uruguayans continue to refer to themselves as descendants of the Charrúa, the people that never gave up, never surrendered, and never stopped fighting.

College classrooms may not look like typical battlefields but don’t be fooled. They are. I’ve been applying the term “la gorra charrúa” to the majority of my classes and, so far, the term fits. My first class of the week was the Spanish Language B1: an intermediate class on Spanish for those students who need a lot of work to become fluent. I was frustrated about being placed in lower class level (the other option was B2, a more advanced class) but more importantly, I was frustrated about the enigma that is my professor. One minute she’s speaking to my peers and me like we’re nine-year-olds, the next she’s popping completely random questions out at specific people, and then she’s clearing her throat and shaking her head like she’s never worked with a bigger pack of imbeciles in the world. Don’t get me wrong, I respect her as a professor but I’m coming to realize the class as warfare: you do your homework, you never give up, and you come to class prepared with the vigor of “la gorra charrúa” to answer any question and pay the utmost attention.

“La gorra charrúa” is typically a term Uruguayans use in fútbol or soccer games. If a Uruguayan soccer team is down on points, they continue fighting their hardest with the unending will to fight of the Charrúa. I have since had classes in history, culture, and literature and, although each professor is completely different from the other, the term remains the same: when the teacher asks you a question, you answer. When you can’t think of the right word in Spanish, you speak circles around the word until you manage to explain it. No giving in; it’s part of the culture.

The insufferable Uruguayan independence and strive to fight for number one continues outside of the classroom. Many of the native students form close-knit groups of study buddies and friends but rarely do they allow new amigos into their groups. The cantina or cafeteria, a more condensed area that you might normally think as a cafeteria and including a small café, rows of tables, a ping pong table, and an enclosed office, a bookstore, and a printing service wrapping the borders of the area, is typically packed with these groups of students hunched near each other talking and hardly sparing a glance to the typical foreign exchange student. Even with these guys, “la gorra churrúa.” I’ve been asking a number of random people to play a game of ping pong to slowly work my way into an understanding of the social rules and unwritten customs of the University; to keep fighting the peaceful fight.

Travel Tip 010: Learn the basic history and culture that defines the local people and attempt to put yourself in their shoes. How do they move about? Why are certain clothes so popular? How do they get by in class, with friends, and on the street? Adapt to those customs and … oh goodness crap mountain of all the cheesy clichés: Do as the Romans do.