Then I asked Lis about her best experience teaching English. She said, "Cara de what. (Face of what)." I was confused. She explained that "Cara de what" is a commercial for a language school in Puebla. The commercial shows a puzzled Mexican confronted by an English speaker asking a question. The ad suggests that you can avoid the "Cara de what" by learning English. Lis said, "It's when the student hears English and doesn't have the "Cara de what."

I'm in Puebla. It's Sunday, May First, Labor Day in Mexico. Calle Tres Poniente (West Third Street) is packed with a moving human caravan. Chanting workers overflow the street and take up the sidewalk. Everyone is surging towards the Zocalo (Central Plaza). Banners proclaim each group and its cause. Dignitaries, elevated on a dais, applaud the marchers as they make their final turn in front of the Cathedral.

Appropriately, I've just come from a job search. I'm interested in teaching in Mexico and my first step was to interview Lis Silva from Chicago, a teacher at Centro de Idiomas VW (VW Language Center).

Volkswagen operates a major plant here in Puebla and although it doesn't advertise, Volkswagen offers classes in English, pays well, hires only experienced teachers and favors native speakers. This was Lis' second teaching job.

Lis agreed to meet me for breakfast. She suggested, "La Noria, Viejo Cafe, it's next to Sam's Club." She brought her husband Carlos Navarro and Pepita, their Golden Retriever. We ate outside on the terrace. It was good choice, both for food and conversation.

"How did you two meet?" I wanted to know. Lis laughed and asked if Carlos wanted to tell. "I was his teacher. We're the same age (they are both now 31), and he was my student."

I mentioned that Carlos could file a suit in the U.S. But there was no disharmony in this happy couple.

In 1999 Lis was teaching at Harmon Hall, her first teaching job. Carlos was on her list of students but had failed to show up for the first three days of classes. On the fourth day, 20 minutes into the class, Lis spotted a student walking past a classroom window on the way to the door. "That must be the missing student," she thought. He entered the room. "I asked him, 'Who are you?' and he said, 'Fine, thank you.'" She corrected, "Not, 'How are you, who are you?' Carlos blushed." Teacher and student got along very well.

"She's the best teacher I ever had," Carlos said. Lis claimed that Carlos was a good student.

"And how did you get your first teaching job, did you need credentials, a diploma?"

Lis explained that she first taught at Harmon Hall, probably the largest language school in Puebla, they train their own teachers. "They have their own Inductive Method," she said. "I took their test, you had to get 500 on the TOEFL (Test of English as a Foreign Language)." They had no other diploma or certificate requirements.

"How much teacher training did you get?"

"There was a two week training course." she said. Harmon Hall has their own books, a progressive series.

Liz was born in Chicago, came to Puebla with her sister when she was sixteen, and went to the University. She studied chemistry, and she's a natural teacher. She rings with enthusiasm and concern for her students. She has a sharp mind able to create language lessons quickly when a student needs help. She's fluent in both English and Spanish and she has the natural American accent.

At Harmon there were no contracts. Wages were low, teacher turnover high. But since Lis carries dual-citizenship, she wasn't absolutely certain about the documents required of a foreign teacher. "If you're hired, the school will help you get the necessary papers." It sounded more like a question of time than a problem. You're teaching while the paper work is being processed. But of course, you must first get the job.

I was hoping to clear up the question of how a foreign teacher with an ESL Diploma could be certain of a job in Mexico before leaving home. Lis didn't know.

But she said that starting wages were about $5 an hour. An experienced teacher could earn double that. Wages tended to follow the level of class instruction. Beginning teachers taught beginning students and were at the bottom. Experienced teachers taught the advanced students and commanded higher pay.

"How much must you make to live modestly in Mexico?" I asked. I was concerned if a young U.S. teacher could get by on a Mexican wage. Lis said, "8000 pesos a month (about $720)." She doubled checked with her husband Carlos. He agreed. So, if you get a full time teaching job, paying at least $5 an hour, you should be able to make ends meet.

"What about class sizes?" I said. Lis said that there were one-on-one tutorials as well as classes with perhaps a maximum of 15 students.

"What's the worst experience you've had teaching?"

Lis had to pause and think. Bad wasn't really part of her experience. Then she said, "Ingratitude." She recalled a case when she really put in extra effort with a student who preformed poorly and was forced to issue a "not pass." He was quite indignant even though Lis had given him extra time, her free time. "He thought he should pass just because he came to class."

VW subsidies it's employees' tuition and requires feedback on performance. They also have special needs: business language, financial language and college prep, especially for the GMAT, the U.S. graduate admissions test.

Then I asked about her best experience. She said, "Cara de what. (Face of what)." I was confused. She explained that "Cara de what" is a commercial for a language school in Puebla. The commercial shows a puzzled Mexican confronted by an English speaker asking a question. The ad suggests that you can avoid the "Cara de what" by learning English. Lis said, "It's when the student hears English and doesn't have the "Cara de what."

This story is from my Forty Days in Mexico.
The previous story in the series is Some interesting Mexicans are Canadian.
The next story in the series is Grand Marquis Arrested in Oaxaca!