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English Language Teaching in Latin America

Number 24

July, 2020

In addition to the 52 articles already in the library, this 24th number of ELTinLA online magazine offers you a compilation of 4 previous articles:

2 frameworks for ELT and 1 national English programme in Latin America: Parts 1-4



That’s it, then – two years of ELTinlA come to an end. I hope it has been interesting and useful for most readers and a positive contribution to ELT in Latin America, especially in the public sector. A book version of my ELTinLA articles and synopses of the other articles published in ELTinLA over its two years of existence will be published by the Universidad Autónoma del Estado de Hidalgo, Mexico. Because of the pandemic, no publication date has been set yet, but when it appears you’ll be able to find it at www.uaeh.edu.mx or with a search for “English Language Teaching in Latin America, UAEH”. Thank you for visiting ELTinLA, and I wish you all the very best in your ELT and in your life, wherever you are now in that adventure. 

As announced in the May and June numbers of ELTinLA, this month, July, I’m launching a new website, for amateur or side-line artwork of all kinds by “older people”. If you’re over 50 (preferably over 60 or 70) and have done drawing, painting, poetry writing, story writing, musical performance, etc., know people who have, or would like to write about your enjoyment of art of any kind, then you might be interested in 50+ArtSpace. Here are samples of the contents of the first issue, from all six inaugural contributors, now at www.50plusartspace.org.


Heard or seen,

in song or flight,

small birds are keen

and pure delight.

They work all day

with chirp and hop,

and tending plants,

they seldom stop.

In rain and sun

and heat and cold

they flit and run

as days unfold.

With clever eyes,

through woodland, farm

and field they fly,

all help, no harm.

Our desecrations

they even pardon,

and come to grace

our urban gardens.

Crystal Skull,

British Museum

Once in a golden thicket of the sun

An Aztec sculptor saw a rocky flower

Of fasciated light, stopped short, astun,

Felt fire in his hands and knew his power:

So did the quartz. And when the artist lay

Void of his light, there stood a crystal skull,

Chalice of reason, vessel of human day,

A kernel of clarity closed in a lucid hull.

Now he had opened all the secret places

Picked all the locks, could see, could clearly see

Man’s motivations, his enigmatic faces

Whittled by light to sheer transparency:

That was his wish, but look, it cheated him,

For lapped in the quartz primordial bubbles swim.

In the cities, especially London, there were empty spaces between houses and other buildings, places where bombs had fallen, destroying homes, shops and factories and, far worse, killing people, from babies to old folk. They’d soon been cleared of rubble and debris, but they remained as gaping witnesses to what had passed. The plots were often used as improvised parking lots until they could be redeveloped as places for people to live or work in again. Petrol was rationed until 1950, and much essential foodstuff until 1953 (sugar) and 1954 (meat). Of course, children like me, born after the beginning of the war or soon after it ended, knew nothing different. For us, ‘normal life’ was simply