I love it here but miss driving in Laura's car.

8:00 pm – in the detention study hall room… where no one is in detention

I am so much more productive when I am on supervision in this room than when I am free to do what I want. I love this. Maybe I’ll be on supervision every night.

Gonjowk just came to check his grade, and he saw that the background of my computer is Andrews’ campus covered with snow. He asked if we use refrigerators in my country. Um… yes… "Your country is a refrigerator!" When I go back to America, I’m supposed to tell the government that “Gonjowk objects to the weather.” Objection is a vocabulary word. Good job. J

I am currently writing a quiz for my ninth graders about if clauses and future tense time clauses. I feel like I have been teaching this forever. Some are still really struggling with it. I wrote out a multiple choice worksheet today where they had a billion different options and they had to choose one that was right. Hopefully that made things more clear. I am always using staff members’ names in my tests and worksheets because I have run out of things to write about. On the worksheet that I wrote at lunch I wrote, “After Mr. Jackson eats his cabbage, he’s going to smile.” Stupid, stupid sentence.

Speaking of sentences, I’ve been having my students write sentences as a punishment. “I will refrain from disrupting Grammar and Writing class because it distracts other students from learning and it is disrespectful to continue to talk after my teacher has repeatedly told me to stop.” Write that a billion times, you who knows three of those words.

I am participating in the strictest Secret Santa game of my life. Benjamin, our SA president is running a tight ship. People are given little things daily. And if you’re not getting things from your secret friend, you can complain to Benjamin about it. I think it’s so funny. When he was explaining the rules, he was very clear that we were not to give our secret friend garbage. We are also not supposed to give things to people if we are not their secret friend. I laughed and laughed at the idea of sabotaging the game. I wouldn’t, but the thought of me planning to ruin it and the frustration level that the intense ISTJ president would reach would be incredibly amusing. (Oh gross… I accidentally spelled amusing with a “z.”)

So I believe that I am officially in stage two of my culture shock, and I am feeding every new piece of information about the culture into my arrogant and ethnocentric theory that this culture is immature. The short tempers, the passionate fervor to keep one’s pride and avoid shame at all costs, the gaudy furniture, the overly dramatic movies with cheesy suspense music, the fact that people actually fight with belts and knives as a normal thing… okay, I’ll stop. I’m not angry or anything right now, but little things get to me sometimes. One of my friends lost his temper so badly the other day when we were at our field trip to the citadel, and I was just astounded. It was scary and it was for a reason that I thought was invalid. I talked to him later and said that if he doesn’t get his anger under control, it’s going to get the best of him and negatively affect any relationship that he has. I told him that to be honest, it makes him less of a man to me if he can’t control himself--which is a huge blow to any guy over here. He listened and said that his father always told him to never be beaten. Nobody is allowed to win over him. If someone is going to start a fight, it will be him, and he will win. He said that his uncle taught him the same thing. When he was little, another boy hit him in the face, and my friend started crying and went to his uncle. His uncle told him that he should never let anyone do that to him and told him to go get the boy back, so my friend threw a rock at the other little boy’s head. I can’t even imagine that mindset. It helps me to understand though.

If anyone from the SM program at Andrews is reading this, I could use my culture shock letter that I wrote to myself. If it’s a flat envelope, it won’t cost me anything. My parents are coming in January too.

Jessica absolutely hates when people say “ridonculous” for reasons of experience, and Alec just taught the smiliest overachiever in the school to say it. It is the funniest thing. He just came to me, and I taught him to make fake guns with his hands and move them in circles while saying“ridonculous” with his thick accent. I feel like the funniest person in the world. I hope that those of you who know the story behind “ridonculous” are amused.

I get to teach Krista’s geometry class because she is going to leave for Christmas a few days early. I’m so excited. Math is my thing. I have realized these past few months more than ever that out of my Introversion, Sensing, Feeling, and Judging, my sensing is the strongest. I am incredibly detail-oriented—above all. Detail-orientation makes one out to be a creep. It’s true.

I feel the strong need to pray with people for people. Yes, I need to pray with people like students for their personal needs, but I also need to pray with someone who is like-minded so that we can pray for the students and the school. I feel like I need to. I am craving it. But I don’t do it. Why? Am I too lazy to get around to it like everything else? Jessica, Krista, and I started out praying together at night, but then we all started going to bed at different times. (By the way, I couldn’t have better roommates. I love them so much.)

I have never experienced so much dishonesty in my life. As I type this, I am watching a student take a test out of the corner of my eye. There’s another student in the room, and I feel like they will be whispering answers to each other. They know A, B, C, and D in sign language because they can drop their hands down by their desk and tell people the answers to multiple choice questions. They will switch quizzes when I am not looking and then deny that the handwriting is not theirs. Hi, I grade your papers, I know that your writing looks like you tried to write with your feet, and his looks like Sam Slikkers wrote it in her font-like writing. I own you. They consider it "helping," and they holding helping a friend in a higher regard than honesty, which is pretty normal for many places in the world.

The floors are easy to slide on. I spend a lot of the time running and sliding around the staff room on my flip flops. Someone has to answer the door? I’ll get it... and I’ll run and slide right to it. I’m on study hall supervision and I’m going to check on the students in the library... let me run and slide all the way there. I feel like a four year old.

These kids talk about God all the time, but I feel like the relationship part is lacking. Their relationships are very works-oriented, cross-tattoo-on-wrist oriented, tattoo-of-the-Virgin-Mary-on-their-bicep-oriented, and Jesus-painting-on-wall oriented, but the part where they know God as their best friend is missing. That is my project. That is my burden. Sometimes I feel so ineffective, and God lets me feel that way. It’s okay. I accept that I will not labor in vain (Isaiah… I don’t remember where. Fifty eight, maybe?), but then sometimes God really uses the students to help me to realize why I am here. I had one of those moments on Saturday. I have been talking to a girl with an addiction, and I felt like I was ineffective and throwing encouraging words into a hopeless abyss, but no. J God is alive and well. Though we don’t always see what is going on, our labor is not in vain. I victory danced (appropriately) and smiled like a fool with this lovely girl. Praise God.

I miss my family and friends. I love it here so much, but I miss you guys. Oh, to have my mom play with my hair… or to drive around in Laura’s car and listen to N*Sync’s Christmas album on the way to Barnes and Noble. I miss studying. I honestly do. I’m not homesick, but there are times when I am reminded of things, and I miss them. I feel like I am finally starting to feel normal. I am glad that I have reached this point.