morning surprise

after a rather unsettling few days at school, I was treated to an unusual surprise one morning. Upon meeting my class in the courtyard, one of my more disruptive and generally rebellious children walks up to me and hands me a small purple box. "From my mother, " he says.

Hmmm...a nice gesture or a bribe??? I'm not sure yet...

welcome back to school

Just thought I would give you a little update on the happenings of MKS. We've only been back in school for three days, but from what I can tell, most classes are pretty chaotic. I think it's just because the kids have been out of school so long; they can't sit still, can't concentrate, and won't stop talking. That seems to be pretty consistent all across the board. It's like they've forgotten everything completely. Here are just a few examples from the last two days:

1. I was on duty in the cafeteria and right in front of my a little fourth grader punches another boy right in the face. Then he ran away laughing. I caught him by the arm and asked him why he did that and he said, "It's ok; he's my cousin." I took him to the principal.

2. On the second day I called my first parent. This kid is one of two extremes. He is either completely spaced out, like he's on a different planet or he's talking non stop about anything and everything. In either case, he does absolutely nothing in class.

3. At the end of the day yesterday, we were wrapping up our lesson when suddenly one kid says something to another one, which causes him to jump out of his chair and push the first kid up against the wall like he's ready to fight. I wrote a note to send them both to the school counselor, and one of them refused to leave claiming he did nothing wrong. Then the other one also refused to leave. So I said I would keep them after school then, which made the defiant one put his head on his desk and start crying. I took them both to the office after school.

4. One of the kids from number 3 (not the crier, the other one) has decided he is not going to do anything in class. He doesnt' bring his books and he just sits there. Today they were supposed to be working on their vocabulary and writing sentences. He ripped a giant hole in the middle of his paper and wouldn't write anything. When I asked him why, he said he was sick. I told him if he was sick he should take his paper and go to the office. he refused to leave or do his work, so I sent another student to get the counselor. She talked to him for about 15 minutes and called his parents.

5. And this one takes the cake! At the end of the day we usually play hangman while the bus kids are leaving. There is one kid, the spaced out talker from number 2, who sits right in the front so I can keep an eye on him. Well, while we were playing, he was messing around with his water bottle. It has a long shoulder strap which he took off the bottle and was playing with. I didn't mind because he was quiet and not bothering anyone. Well, in the span on a minute, and I kid you not, it was that fast, he had made a loop with the strap, put it around his neck, and tied the other end to the leg of his chair. By the time I turned to look at him, he was on the floor on all fours howling and barking and jumping around like a dog. My jaw dropped, and I literally stood there with my mouth hanging open. Then I called his name and asked him to sit down, so he quickly scrambled into his seat and is frantically aplogizing while still wearing the dog collar and leash. I just started laughing because at that point, there was nothing else I could do.

The life of a school teacher...

virtual shower

This summer my aunts threw me a wonderful wedding shower. Due to my unusual circumstances, they made it a virtual shower where all the guests wrapped up pictures of what they wanted to give me and enclosed the monetary amount to make that purchase once I returned to Bahrain. Well, I've moved into my new apartment and have begun the shopping! Actually, many people generously donated dishes, kitchen appliances, towels, and sheets, so I've only purchased a few things. Here are some pics of the new items...

my favorite...a must have for those who don't enjoy cooking...a crock pot!

hanging by the front door...these colors match my tan furniture and yellow table cloth

this is the green color I'm going to use in the bedroom

kitchen supplies...

I have this interesting gray/white/black squared tile ffloor to ceiling in the kitchen. with bright yellow cabinets

apartment pictures coming soon!

the waiting game

so school has officially been postponed until October 18th. This swine flu paranoia is really getting out of control. The teachers still have to go to school every day though. It's torture. We sit there all day with nothing to do. We pretend to work for an hour and then all gather in one room for coffee. Then pretend to work some more. Tomorrow they've organized aerobics for us to do in the morning with the PE teacher. That could be fairly entertaining.

Here's some before and after pictures of my class. (The before pictures were taken one week before school started.)

the fort

The boys in my neighborhood have been working on this fort for weeks now, and I have been eagerly watching their progress. This thing is awesome. It started out with just the wooden frame, but now it's got everything. I want to hang out there. Seriously. They found a book of fabric samples which they took apart and nailed to the walls for covering/decoration. They put carpeting on the ground with cushions and wooden chairs for their sitting enjoyment, thin screens on the ceiling to block the sun, a bulletin board on the outside to post their important announcements, a wooden platform for shoes so the carpet doesn't get dirty, and of course, the necessary framed picture of the king prominently displayed on the wall. The best part is that the whole thing is covered with Christmas lights, so it's lit up every night. Every evening I walk by to see what progress has been made or what the boys are up to. Usually they are just chilling inside, playing chess or carems or just hanging out. It's funny because it's quite typical for older Arab men to sit outside on the street smoking shisha and playing dominoes. This is like the kids version. :)

the joys of moving

the first three weeks I was staying with the pastor, living out of suitcases

finally moved into the new place, but it took a while to get everything working...

dishes in the bathroom sink

more pictures once I've unpacked some :)

personal bubble

It is a generally know fact that Americans have a rather large personal bubble. We like to keep our distance from people, especially in public places. In a waiting room, we politely leave that empty seat between ourselves and the people waiting next to us. At the gym we use alternating tread mills if we can. In church, we leave a respectful distance on the pew between families. We often don't even realize we do it; it's second nature to us. In fact, we don't often realize we have a large personal space bubble until we travel somewhere outside the US where the rules of personal space are completely different or perhaps non-existant.

This is my story.

It was a Thursday afternoon, the last day of the working week. The first week of school was behind us, thankfully. The street and parking lot were packed with cars and buses and wandering students, all eager to get out of there. The teachers were no exception. I punched out at exactly 1:35, the time we were allowed to leave, and made my way over to the high school where the "teacher's bus" was waiting to take us home. I arrived after the short walk, hot and sweaty as the temperature outside was a boiling 110*. I climbed aboard and quickly realized I was one of the last teachers to arrive. (How the others all manage to get there before I do is a mystery. I'll have to work on that.) I slumped into the only free bench--the front row. No sooner had I sat down than I realized there was a black bag sitting on the bench next to me; someone else was already sitting here. Sure enough, as I turned around I saw the bus doors opening and a middle aged teacher from the high school got on. I recognized her from earlier in the week. She was Lebanese, a math teacher, and she always sounded angry, barking orders into her cell phone in Arabic. I apologized for taking her seat, but she seemed unfazed. She slid in next to me, and we were on our way. The bus ride is not a long one; most of the teachers live within five minutes of the school. Since I live farther away, I am the last to get dropped off. As we rolled along, I suddenly realized I was in a jam. The teacher who sat next to me was the second to the last one off the bus. That meant that the bus would empty out, and there would be the two of us, crammed into the front row. And I was stuck next to the window. I had no way out. I consoled myself by saying, I'm sure she'll move to an empty row when one opens up. That's what I would do if I was on the aisle. But I forgot that I was no longer in America dealing with Americans. The bus emptied out and the Lebanese teacher showed no signs of moving. I rode along in silence, listening to her sharp Arabic, thinking, this is nuts. There I was, the sun mercilessly beating down on me through the window, my blood beginning to boil. What is wrong with this lady, I thought, as our legs knocked against one another over every bump. This entire bus is empty and it's hot and she insists on cramming into the front row with me!?!?!? Just move. I tried for five minutes to send a silent message to her brain telling her to get out of my row. When that didn't work, I tried shifting around in my seat to show that I was uncomfortable. I tried moving my bag, inching my leg away from hers, glancing around at the empty seats around us. But nothing worked; she wasn't bothered in the slightest. She didn't care that it was hot. She didn't care that our legs kept rubbing against each other. She didn't care that the whole bus was empty. So why did I care so much? Why was I torturing myself over this? Because it's just ridiculous, I thought. All she has to do is move!!!! But as the minutes ticked by I slumped against the window in resignation. Just look out the window. It will be over soon. It's really not that bad, I told myself. But nothing worked. The only comforting thought was this: next week, I won't be the last one to get on the bus.