End of the 27th week of school: It was a pretty normal week at school. I am back in the same classes as 1st trimester, and 6th and 7th graders are pretty much a riot. In one class they chanted Hea-ther, Hea-ther, Hea-ther when I came in. That was fun. In another class a boy accidently mistranslated and talked about hanging bollocks instead of balls on a Christmas tree, and another kid pronounced angel like onion, and we had good laughs with that. I will start another round of oral exams, and that is OK, because I dont know how on earth these hard-working teachers will get all their work done if I dont, and I like talking to the kids anyway. I just hate giving them a grade. I think the teachers would like to teach me to be a little more . . . crabby. We dont use shame as a pedagogical tool in the U.S., and I cannot be converted into using it. But I will miss all those teachers and kids. Susannah, who started being homesick after Rob and Cathys visit, hasnt quit asking about home. I hoped it would pass, but I think we have 5-6 weeks ahead of us with her asking constantly about home. She was reminiscing about story time with Mrs. Witteveen while we waited at a crosswalk for a light to change. She talks CONSTANTLY the entire walk back and forth to school, whether I can hear her over traffic or not. I hugged her and said You will be really happy when you have your playground and story time and teachers again, wont you? The poor girl put her face right in my shirt and started crying about whether her teacher was going to tell her muy mal or not because of some vocabulary she hadnt learned. She worries a lot about the two little words muy mal, and whether she really was muy mal or whether the teacher was being muy mal. She seems largely of the opinion that the kids are good and the teachers are muy mal. In actual fact, I am not sure that it has even ever happened that the teacher has said muy mal to her. She is just worrying a lot that it could possibly happen. It might help that Susannah has spent all day at Cecilias house (daughter of my friend Isabel) and I am sure she is having a great day. Dwight and Isaiah and I hiked the Ruta del Cares today in the Picos de Europa. We had a gorgeous day. My knees are KILLING me and I am sunburned. A goat put its hooves right up on my shoulders and tried to eat my bocadillo. He knocked over a whole container of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber, and pepper and wouldnt touch it. Apparently goats prefer ham and cheese bocadillos? Also, the goat left Dwight alone and only watched him. Spanish goats do not prefer gluten free bread. They know the real stuff when they smell it. So in the goat pictures I will upload later, I am elsewhere holding my sandwich over my head with the camera in my other hand. Dwight and I had started walking about 5 minutes after the students and Isaiah. (Old people buy a drink so that they are allowed to use the bathroom in the cafe.) So we ended up with a 4 hour date--probably the longest he and I have had to talk together in private in the last 15 years. Seriously, we never get a date. That was an unexpected treat. Maybe Ill get some of those beautiful pictures uploaded, and then you can see the goats. I wish my dad were on facebook to see the goats . . .
Posted on: Sun, 06 Apr 2014 17:23:50 +0000
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