It rained today. Normally when I would say that I would be referring to five drops on my shirt that I took a picture of to prove that it happened. No, it rained. There is no drainage system because it rains on average less than a centimeter a year, but the streets were full of puddles and were so muddy. We had gone to a students' birthday party in Ain Shams, and I almost wiped out every three feet on the way back to the metro. The metro was shut down because of the rain, so when they finally started running again, they were super crowded. As the metro approached, I felt a wave of heat and humidity billow out of the window, and we pushed our way on without any room to breathe. It was like a giant group hug, and the poles on the train felt wet from all of the humidity and body heat. It took a long time to find a minibus back to the school, and we were wet and frizzy and covered in mud. This was just so weird today.
Jessica's family is here. It has been really nice. They got here on Tuesday night and then on Wednesday Dr. Weaver and Justin (who is almost finished with dental school) checked every students' teeth. The Weavers brought a toothbrush, toothpaste, and floss for each student, and I am just so grateful for that. Some of them had some really bad teeth and complained that they were in a lot of pain, and they were so appreciative. Some students had been looking forward to the free dental check up for months. Most of the Egyptian students hardly brush their teeth, whereas the Sudanese have much better dental hygiene. Dr. Weaver didn't bring equipment to fill cavities, so he is giving the reports to Mrs. Peggy (the nurse practitioner) who will take them to get their cavities filled. Today, a lot of teeth were pulled, and the students seemed kind of proud of it. They were trying to talk with a mouthful of gauze, and everyone ask them questions excitedly. Funny. Mrs. Weaver brought a ton of jump ropes for the students to use. We NEED to get the girls moving. I am so worried about them because they do not move at all. Jeanie said that the students need a "good pair of shoes," and it's really important for the girls to have "a good sports bra." Well, good luck with that. :)
Jessica's grandpa is a retired cancer surgeon and worked with people who had problems related to smoking. He has also done clinics to help people stop smoking for over forty years, so he gave a presentation on Wednesday during our assembly. He showed a really graphic video with many interviews, and I hope that it scared a lot of the students. He offered to talk to anyone who wanted help quitting smoking and assured them that there would be no punishment. One of my friends asked me to come with him because he was nervous about going by himself. He is high-school age and has smoked for the past six years. Poor thing. So now I am a "support person," and I am responsible for talking to him at least once a day and holding him accountable for being honest. Hardly anyone went to talk to Jessica's grandpa about smoking, and I was disappointed about that. I know that there are tons of students who smoke and just don't get caught. They either don't want to quit, or they don't want to lose face by admitting that they smoke. Anything to save face. It's kind of sad.
I love it here.
Tina might come. I am including this in here so that she reads it and feels obligated to come.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
Another "Love Comes Softly" Movie
Well this is the third movie of the series. Here I am between Krista and Michael watching this corny Christian love movie that has a new actress playing the girl. It's like with Home Alone... except worse (because at least all the characters were new in "Home Alone 3")
This past week... I don't remember right now. Hmm. Well, I discovered that many of the students in 9B can't write sentences. I've been teaching them grammar. I feel like I've been working so hard and forcing them to write and write. I've used so much repetition, but now when I have them do some other writing activities, and they can't formulate sentences. "Why did you go to Hergada?" "I is like to swimming." Ya merari. (Ya merari is an expression that they say here out of frustration and self-pity. They don't know what it means, but I know that "merari" means "bitter.")--Oh, this movie is almost painful. I can't tell if this antagonistic cowboy is trying to sound threatening or seductive. Anyways, I don't know what to do with 9B. The class has gotten a little smaller because some people have been moved out (up to 9A and down to ESL), but it's still such a mess. I feel like if they can speak proper English, they will write it, but oral activities are so hard with them. We have these Side by Side workbooks, which remind me of my old Spanish books, and they have many oral activities. They give an example and then new information to plug into the conversation. They don't know how to do it. It is a disaster. I need to keep working at it, but when it takes a student 234 hours to do one of them outloud in front of the class, I do some on the board and then have them try to speak them by rows. It's a rather egregious cacophony because the ones who get it try to show off and say it faster than everyone else and some kids just repeat the same word the whole time. It's a mess. They will not be ready for tenth grade at this rate. Is it my fault? Partly... but mostly not. I would usually blame myself, but not this time. Most of them don't put in the fffort. The ones that do are actually improving.
Tenth grade is going really well. After we split up the class, some of the students in my class came up to me and said that they were so happy and they felt like they were really going to learn this semester. They said that the class was so big that they never got the chance to answer. Now the really shy ones and the ones that felt self-conscious about the possibly being wrong raise their hands and try to answer all the time. And the ones that have a really difficult time reading seem to like The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. I have so much more control in my tenth grade class now that there are 17 as opposed to 38 last semester.
On Thursday night, our drama class performed a bunch of funny skits for the students. They were so cute. We did the statue skit, "My son/daughter is dying," the doctor's office, and some others. We also did one of those skits where there's a curtain and one person's face show but with another person's arms. We had two guys who were getting ready for school, and in the end they "ran" to class with their notebooks. It was so funny. They did a really good job. I noticed that none of them were very eager to get messy. The guy who was the statue in the skit shoved what he could in his mouth but only took a few bites of what he could. The guys in the hand skit didn't use toothpaste when brushing their teeth. It was just funny to see the differences.
After the skits, all of the girls came to our apartment, and we gave them chocolate chip cookies and juice while they watched "Mulan." We were encouraging their feelings of feminism and girl power, and they really loved the movie--even the ones that couldn't understand it. We're going to work our way through girl power movies and then hopefully work our way up to "Enough" (the movie where Jennifer Lopez learns to fight and ends up killing her abusive husband). That won't happen, but we like to joke about it and fantasize about making the girls feel empowered. I'm not one of those uber-feminist girls that thinks that she can build a house better than a guy and can do more push-ups, but we are of equal value and deserve to be treated like it. And I want to make these girls aware that there is a different way and that they are allowed to speak and actually leave their houses. I don't want them to be just like Americans--that's not my purpose in coming here, but I want them to feel beautiful and important and validated.
So all of the girls know how to do their cultural hip-shaking dances, though they would nearly die if the guys heard that they could. But before we started the movie, some were making some rhythms against the table, and some girls started to dance. Then they pulled some others in. I couldn't even begin to move my hips like that. haha. I thought it was just the funniest thing. There's a reason why I couldn't marry an Egyptian man--I would feel self-conscious of my pathetic hip-shaking dance skills. He wouldn't want me. I think that I'm just sounding confusing.
I really like Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster. It is very practical and good. It has helped me in my spiritual life, and I recommend it.
I'm clinging to Egypt for dear life. My time here is slipping away so quickly.
This past week... I don't remember right now. Hmm. Well, I discovered that many of the students in 9B can't write sentences. I've been teaching them grammar. I feel like I've been working so hard and forcing them to write and write. I've used so much repetition, but now when I have them do some other writing activities, and they can't formulate sentences. "Why did you go to Hergada?" "I is like to swimming." Ya merari. (Ya merari is an expression that they say here out of frustration and self-pity. They don't know what it means, but I know that "merari" means "bitter.")--Oh, this movie is almost painful. I can't tell if this antagonistic cowboy is trying to sound threatening or seductive. Anyways, I don't know what to do with 9B. The class has gotten a little smaller because some people have been moved out (up to 9A and down to ESL), but it's still such a mess. I feel like if they can speak proper English, they will write it, but oral activities are so hard with them. We have these Side by Side workbooks, which remind me of my old Spanish books, and they have many oral activities. They give an example and then new information to plug into the conversation. They don't know how to do it. It is a disaster. I need to keep working at it, but when it takes a student 234 hours to do one of them outloud in front of the class, I do some on the board and then have them try to speak them by rows. It's a rather egregious cacophony because the ones who get it try to show off and say it faster than everyone else and some kids just repeat the same word the whole time. It's a mess. They will not be ready for tenth grade at this rate. Is it my fault? Partly... but mostly not. I would usually blame myself, but not this time. Most of them don't put in the fffort. The ones that do are actually improving.
Tenth grade is going really well. After we split up the class, some of the students in my class came up to me and said that they were so happy and they felt like they were really going to learn this semester. They said that the class was so big that they never got the chance to answer. Now the really shy ones and the ones that felt self-conscious about the possibly being wrong raise their hands and try to answer all the time. And the ones that have a really difficult time reading seem to like The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. I have so much more control in my tenth grade class now that there are 17 as opposed to 38 last semester.
On Thursday night, our drama class performed a bunch of funny skits for the students. They were so cute. We did the statue skit, "My son/daughter is dying," the doctor's office, and some others. We also did one of those skits where there's a curtain and one person's face show but with another person's arms. We had two guys who were getting ready for school, and in the end they "ran" to class with their notebooks. It was so funny. They did a really good job. I noticed that none of them were very eager to get messy. The guy who was the statue in the skit shoved what he could in his mouth but only took a few bites of what he could. The guys in the hand skit didn't use toothpaste when brushing their teeth. It was just funny to see the differences.
After the skits, all of the girls came to our apartment, and we gave them chocolate chip cookies and juice while they watched "Mulan." We were encouraging their feelings of feminism and girl power, and they really loved the movie--even the ones that couldn't understand it. We're going to work our way through girl power movies and then hopefully work our way up to "Enough" (the movie where Jennifer Lopez learns to fight and ends up killing her abusive husband). That won't happen, but we like to joke about it and fantasize about making the girls feel empowered. I'm not one of those uber-feminist girls that thinks that she can build a house better than a guy and can do more push-ups, but we are of equal value and deserve to be treated like it. And I want to make these girls aware that there is a different way and that they are allowed to speak and actually leave their houses. I don't want them to be just like Americans--that's not my purpose in coming here, but I want them to feel beautiful and important and validated.
So all of the girls know how to do their cultural hip-shaking dances, though they would nearly die if the guys heard that they could. But before we started the movie, some were making some rhythms against the table, and some girls started to dance. Then they pulled some others in. I couldn't even begin to move my hips like that. haha. I thought it was just the funniest thing. There's a reason why I couldn't marry an Egyptian man--I would feel self-conscious of my pathetic hip-shaking dance skills. He wouldn't want me. I think that I'm just sounding confusing.
I really like Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster. It is very practical and good. It has helped me in my spiritual life, and I recommend it.
I'm clinging to Egypt for dear life. My time here is slipping away so quickly.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Adding my own commentary to "Love Comes Softly"
Beth, Krista, Jessica, Michael, and I are sitting in the Deckers' living room watching the second "Love Comes Softly" movie. Krista is obsessed with these movies, and we drag Michael over here and assure him that there will be kleenex for him. These are very predictable Christian love stories written by Janette Oakes. Katherine Heigl is actually in the first two. So we're sitting here, eating incredibly healthy cereal that probably cost this wonderful family a fortune from Royal House. Krista and I are making jokes about Kimmy Gibbler from "Full House" and raspberry cordial from "Anne of Green Gables." I am incredibly entertained by detail-oriented people like her. I joke with Michael that he and I are married, and I've gotten good at making jokes where I am concerned about our relationship's health or possessive of him. I don't joke like that in frnot of the students, but one girl came up to me the other day and asked if he and I were dating. I laughed and laughed and said no. Then she asked if one of the students and I were dating. I laughed and said no. Then she asked if I had a boyfriend in America. haha. "Ruth, where did you hear these things?" "I don't know. People in the dorm." So the same people are saying all three. haha. I am quite amused. I think Alexi, Pastor Tom's daughter is annoyed with my commentary about the movie, so I will try to control myself, but this movie is just asking for it.
Tonight at vespers, Jessica played the piano (for the first time at song service!), Michael played the guitar, Trei played the djembe, and I sang with a senior girl named Mary. One of the students' favorite songs is "Every Move I Make," and they get really into it. It's so cute. I always help lead that one, and all the Sudanese guys clap from side to side. We also sang "Holy is the Lord," and I watched some of the Sudanese guys who are in the hand choir do all the motions that they remembered from before. I just love watching them. Pastor Tom gave an excellent sermon to the seniors tonight about love. It sounds generic, but it was so good. He said that he asked for preaching advice from this little old Dutch man who really surprised him with his skills, and the old man told him, "If you love the people, you will never preach a bad sermon." We dedicated all the seniors and gave them a pin with the NUA label on it.
'
My prediction is that the quiet man who just stole the plow from the daughter is good, and the nice-seeming guy who works on the train is a creep. We'll have to see. I was just told to shut up. Oh, this one is called "Love's Enduring Promise." I just compared the daughter to one of those hillbillies that refuses medical attention because the guy who she will eventually be in love with just told her that her pa could lose his life, and she said, "You're not touching my pa." Dumb. This girl looks like she's wearing a du-rag. I find this young country lad named Nate quite strapping. Hopefully Michael doesn't get jealous.
Tomorrow we are having a potluck for the students, and each of the staff members is going to bring something for them to try. We're making grilled cheese--very simple and very American. We spent an embarrassing 64 pounds on cheese.
Last night we had our Valentine's Day social, and the students went on a scavenger hunt and then signed giant hearts for each other. (These people are running away from bees, and my prediction is that the guy is allergic and will get stung and die from them just like Macaulay Culkin in "My Girl." Michael and I like Nate better than this guy with a bowtie.) On Sunday we're going to have the girls over and give them chocolate chip cookies. They don't really have cookies here, and chocolate chips are very hard to find. My parents brought me them when they came to visit.
On Sunday, we're going to start reading "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe." We're splitting up tenth grade because they are at such different levels. Beth is going to take the more advanced students, and I'm going to take the ones that have more difficulty. I am really happy about this because I really want to get in and nail the bad grammar. I'm just going to have some trouble. I feel like I would do things so differently if I was coming back for a second year. I feel bad for these kids who get all these first-year teachers who have no idea what they're doing until the second semester. (If this guy in the movie lived near me and was actually a nice guy, I would sneakily work my way into his life and marry him. For sure I would. That just reminded me that the students always say, "For sure she will like it." "For sure no." "For sure I will." They also always say, "As you like." I love it, and I've picked this up from them.)
We're having some problems at the school. Some guys were caught smoking. Smoking is a huge problem here--just about every guy here in Egypt smokes, so the school's rule has to be very strongly opposed to it. If they get caught, they're supposed to be kicked out. That rule started last year. (This bowtie man is so corny. He even talks in a really crisp voice like he would wear a bowtie.) So the guys are suspended right now until further decisions can be made. I really feel like the school is the best place for them to be, and I want them to be here so badly. I really feel like they need to be here, but I want to trust that God will allow whatever is best for them to happen. During the times when we feel like everything is wrong and we have nowhere to turn, we find that life does go on. We learn so much about ourselves, others, God, and life itself. So if they need to be at home for their characters to be shaped and molded, then sobeit. I just worry about them so much. Please pray that whatever is best will happen. I have noticed that the people here have a very difficult time taking responsibility for their actions. It's not so-and-so's fault that he got kicked out. It's Pastor Tom's... because Pastor Tom made him steal/cheat/lie/whatever he did. Taking responsibility for one's actions is one of the best things a person can learn to do.
Speaking of learning lessons, I need to learn some from this movie... maybe. Goodnight.
Tonight at vespers, Jessica played the piano (for the first time at song service!), Michael played the guitar, Trei played the djembe, and I sang with a senior girl named Mary. One of the students' favorite songs is "Every Move I Make," and they get really into it. It's so cute. I always help lead that one, and all the Sudanese guys clap from side to side. We also sang "Holy is the Lord," and I watched some of the Sudanese guys who are in the hand choir do all the motions that they remembered from before. I just love watching them. Pastor Tom gave an excellent sermon to the seniors tonight about love. It sounds generic, but it was so good. He said that he asked for preaching advice from this little old Dutch man who really surprised him with his skills, and the old man told him, "If you love the people, you will never preach a bad sermon." We dedicated all the seniors and gave them a pin with the NUA label on it.
'
My prediction is that the quiet man who just stole the plow from the daughter is good, and the nice-seeming guy who works on the train is a creep. We'll have to see. I was just told to shut up. Oh, this one is called "Love's Enduring Promise." I just compared the daughter to one of those hillbillies that refuses medical attention because the guy who she will eventually be in love with just told her that her pa could lose his life, and she said, "You're not touching my pa." Dumb. This girl looks like she's wearing a du-rag. I find this young country lad named Nate quite strapping. Hopefully Michael doesn't get jealous.
Tomorrow we are having a potluck for the students, and each of the staff members is going to bring something for them to try. We're making grilled cheese--very simple and very American. We spent an embarrassing 64 pounds on cheese.
Last night we had our Valentine's Day social, and the students went on a scavenger hunt and then signed giant hearts for each other. (These people are running away from bees, and my prediction is that the guy is allergic and will get stung and die from them just like Macaulay Culkin in "My Girl." Michael and I like Nate better than this guy with a bowtie.) On Sunday we're going to have the girls over and give them chocolate chip cookies. They don't really have cookies here, and chocolate chips are very hard to find. My parents brought me them when they came to visit.
On Sunday, we're going to start reading "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe." We're splitting up tenth grade because they are at such different levels. Beth is going to take the more advanced students, and I'm going to take the ones that have more difficulty. I am really happy about this because I really want to get in and nail the bad grammar. I'm just going to have some trouble. I feel like I would do things so differently if I was coming back for a second year. I feel bad for these kids who get all these first-year teachers who have no idea what they're doing until the second semester. (If this guy in the movie lived near me and was actually a nice guy, I would sneakily work my way into his life and marry him. For sure I would. That just reminded me that the students always say, "For sure she will like it." "For sure no." "For sure I will." They also always say, "As you like." I love it, and I've picked this up from them.)
We're having some problems at the school. Some guys were caught smoking. Smoking is a huge problem here--just about every guy here in Egypt smokes, so the school's rule has to be very strongly opposed to it. If they get caught, they're supposed to be kicked out. That rule started last year. (This bowtie man is so corny. He even talks in a really crisp voice like he would wear a bowtie.) So the guys are suspended right now until further decisions can be made. I really feel like the school is the best place for them to be, and I want them to be here so badly. I really feel like they need to be here, but I want to trust that God will allow whatever is best for them to happen. During the times when we feel like everything is wrong and we have nowhere to turn, we find that life does go on. We learn so much about ourselves, others, God, and life itself. So if they need to be at home for their characters to be shaped and molded, then sobeit. I just worry about them so much. Please pray that whatever is best will happen. I have noticed that the people here have a very difficult time taking responsibility for their actions. It's not so-and-so's fault that he got kicked out. It's Pastor Tom's... because Pastor Tom made him steal/cheat/lie/whatever he did. Taking responsibility for one's actions is one of the best things a person can learn to do.
Speaking of learning lessons, I need to learn some from this movie... maybe. Goodnight.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Egypt is normal to me :)
I haven't been writing too much lately because I have become "accustomed" (10th grade vocab word) to so many things that I feel like there is nothing to say. I don't really hear the prayers from the mosques anymore. Braying donkeys don't steal my attention. Cold showers are nothing to complain about. :) Guys holding hands with other guys doesn't seem weird to me. Some things, however, are still a little unusual.
There were a couple students in ninth grade whose English was just not at the level where the other students were, and they got moved back to ESL. These students could not keep up with the classes, and everything was just becoming more and more over their heads. To keep them in ninth grade would be a waste of everyone's time. Of course there was crying from the students, but one student's family got really involved. We reconsidered the move when we heard that the father hit the wife and was blaming her for her kid's problem--because I'm sure that none of it had to do with him.
Haha... right now I am in our apartment, but I can hear Krista counting down from 10 because by the time she gets to zero, they have to have their homework on her desk and be seated. The counting system is super effective. I feel like I treat them like middle schoolers, but hey, if they respond, then what's the harm in that? :) I found out that one guy, who I thought was 16 or 17 is actually older than me. Krista, Jessica, and I were laughing because we treat them like they are so much younger, when in reality they are about the same age as us. Sometimes we play student charades. (Shh...) We ask, "Who am I?! Who am I?!" and then dash up to an imaginary board and start doodling in the middle of our imaginary class. Alec is the best at impersonating people. We don't do it in a mean way, but it's just hilarious because their personalities are so distinct, and we would have never expected to encounter students like these. There was much less structure in the government schools, so they don't really know that it's not okay to get up in the middle of class and ask a specific question about their homework. Now? Really?
I've discovered that the best punishments are taking off points, marking people late, and giving the students sentences to write. I send tenth grade outside if we are doing a creative writing assignment or working in groups, and if I come around and see them working on something else, I say, "Minus one," and they freak out. Life is over. If they talk while I take attendance, they are late. "NOOOOOOOOOO, ya Miss! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" Sentences are so fun. Alec and I share the ones that we make them write to humor each other. "Oooh! You made him write that he will not 'peruse' around the class?! Good one!" (Alec is hilarious.)
We have a vocabulary unit test over five chapters tomorrow, so I chopped up paper to make flashcards if the students wanted them. I also gave out rubberbands. I forgot that I was teaching some six year olds. One guy shot another guy right in the face with his rubberband, and I told him that that was not okay and to give me the rubberband. "Why, Miss? ... But why? ... No ... Why? What's the problem, ya Miss?" He kept backing away and wouldn't give me his rubberband. I said, "Come on. It's not a big deal. Just give me the rubberband. If you don't, I have to write you up to Pastor Tom for insubordination." He still refused, so I have a discipline referral sheet to write. Haha. Are you kidding me? Give me the stupid rubberband.
I have class in a half hour. I am working on vocab sentences with 9B today. On those days, it seems like the ground breaks open and all hell breaks loose. I love them so much though.
Have a good day!
There were a couple students in ninth grade whose English was just not at the level where the other students were, and they got moved back to ESL. These students could not keep up with the classes, and everything was just becoming more and more over their heads. To keep them in ninth grade would be a waste of everyone's time. Of course there was crying from the students, but one student's family got really involved. We reconsidered the move when we heard that the father hit the wife and was blaming her for her kid's problem--because I'm sure that none of it had to do with him.
Haha... right now I am in our apartment, but I can hear Krista counting down from 10 because by the time she gets to zero, they have to have their homework on her desk and be seated. The counting system is super effective. I feel like I treat them like middle schoolers, but hey, if they respond, then what's the harm in that? :) I found out that one guy, who I thought was 16 or 17 is actually older than me. Krista, Jessica, and I were laughing because we treat them like they are so much younger, when in reality they are about the same age as us. Sometimes we play student charades. (Shh...) We ask, "Who am I?! Who am I?!" and then dash up to an imaginary board and start doodling in the middle of our imaginary class. Alec is the best at impersonating people. We don't do it in a mean way, but it's just hilarious because their personalities are so distinct, and we would have never expected to encounter students like these. There was much less structure in the government schools, so they don't really know that it's not okay to get up in the middle of class and ask a specific question about their homework. Now? Really?
I've discovered that the best punishments are taking off points, marking people late, and giving the students sentences to write. I send tenth grade outside if we are doing a creative writing assignment or working in groups, and if I come around and see them working on something else, I say, "Minus one," and they freak out. Life is over. If they talk while I take attendance, they are late. "NOOOOOOOOOO, ya Miss! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" Sentences are so fun. Alec and I share the ones that we make them write to humor each other. "Oooh! You made him write that he will not 'peruse' around the class?! Good one!" (Alec is hilarious.)
We have a vocabulary unit test over five chapters tomorrow, so I chopped up paper to make flashcards if the students wanted them. I also gave out rubberbands. I forgot that I was teaching some six year olds. One guy shot another guy right in the face with his rubberband, and I told him that that was not okay and to give me the rubberband. "Why, Miss? ... But why? ... No ... Why? What's the problem, ya Miss?" He kept backing away and wouldn't give me his rubberband. I said, "Come on. It's not a big deal. Just give me the rubberband. If you don't, I have to write you up to Pastor Tom for insubordination." He still refused, so I have a discipline referral sheet to write. Haha. Are you kidding me? Give me the stupid rubberband.
I have class in a half hour. I am working on vocab sentences with 9B today. On those days, it seems like the ground breaks open and all hell breaks loose. I love them so much though.
Have a good day!
Monday, February 8, 2010
Weak
Being here has shown me how weak I really am. I thought I was strong. I thought I could be organized. I thought I could manage my time. I thought I could control myself. I thought I was becoming good at saying no. I have realized that I need to be incredibly careful in many aspects of my life so that I am not taken advantage of. I don’t feel like a pushover of a teacher, but I am softer and less structured than Krista and Jessica, and I really envy them. A lady that I recently met was telling us how incredibly important it is to not be manipulated or taken advantage of in any way shape or form. She said that her daughter was raped and was saying that there are certain tendencies in the women who get taken advantage of. Would I want to help a man who needed my jumper cables? Oh, of course. I feel like I am very aware of situations. I know all of the problems that have occurred, are occurring, and could possibly occur in the future (near or distant), but for some reason my logic does not impact my feelings the way I wish it would. I am so weak, and I am not to be trusted with my own life. I have fallen time and time again, and I continue to fall on a daily basis. I cannot be trusted. God help me. I need an escape. Help me to want to escape because I know I should want to but I don’t. Help my logic to outweigh my feelings.
I am using a new laptop (Shukran giddan, ya parental units!), and I hardly have any music on this computer so far. It is night, and I am in a very contemplative and rather melancholy state, and I don’t want to listen to anything other than Christian music. My options are Ray Boltz 400 or I can intersperse that with the 16 second “Give Me Words to Speak” introduction by Aaron Shust. But in all honesty, how can I listen to sappy love songs or bitter I-used-to-be-in-love songs when there are so many more important things in life. I should go back to clean our apartment. Beth, a new SM and recently graduated nurse from SAU, is coming to live with us tomorrow. She has been planning to come for a few months now, and I’m really happy for Krista because she and Krista have been college roommates.
I read part of the love chapter (1 Corinthians 13) at the beginning of my classes today, and some students wrote down where to find it. I absolutely love that. I don’t really think that it makes a big difference to them, but when I say that we’re only going to pray at the beginning of class, some beg for a verse or worship thought. It is possible that they are treating me like we treated Mr. Gammon in high school. Any way to get him off on a tangent about how he met his wife or how he fixed something would take up some of the class period. We were always so proud of ourselves. (Sorry, Mr. Gammon.) There are some students who always write down where to find the text that I have read, and I feel so encouraged by this. I would do anything to get them into their Bibles.
I have so much to do. I have to go.
Oh, by the way, some classes have switched for this second semester. I am still teaching two periods of English for tenth grade, but I am also teaching vocabulary and reading (1 period) to 9B, grammar to 9B, and a vocabulary and study class to 9A. The study part of that class teaches them how to take notes and figure out meanings of words from the context. I think that it will be good for them. I feel a lot better about my classes this semester. I feel more competent and am grateful for more structure in my classes, yet I have this haunting anticipation of feeling overwhelmed. It’s like I see a very distant tidal wave, and I am awaiting my death—wow, I am so dramatic right now. Haha. But I feel it. Ah.
The SMs took a group picture this weekend when we were at an American lady’s house (this meant that we could put our arms around each other… which is always something to feel rebellious about), and Alec laughed and said, “I have you trapped in my armpit!” and wouldn’t let me go. I will never be the same. I asked God to never let me be the same before I came here, but
that’s not what I meant.
I will never be the same.
Shidif sharuk shid, itaany gai bilhed. I don’t know how to spell this in English, and I can barely say it in Arabic, but I learned it when we were watching Egypt’s soccer team play Ghana for the African cup on Sunday night. It means something to the effect of pulling your hair (I don’t know if it’s me pulling it or you pulling your own hair—I think the latter) and the next goal will be at your head. Whatever floats your boat.
I am really weirded out right now, and I can't concentrate.
I am using a new laptop (Shukran giddan, ya parental units!), and I hardly have any music on this computer so far. It is night, and I am in a very contemplative and rather melancholy state, and I don’t want to listen to anything other than Christian music. My options are Ray Boltz 400 or I can intersperse that with the 16 second “Give Me Words to Speak” introduction by Aaron Shust. But in all honesty, how can I listen to sappy love songs or bitter I-used-to-be-in-love songs when there are so many more important things in life. I should go back to clean our apartment. Beth, a new SM and recently graduated nurse from SAU, is coming to live with us tomorrow. She has been planning to come for a few months now, and I’m really happy for Krista because she and Krista have been college roommates.
I read part of the love chapter (1 Corinthians 13) at the beginning of my classes today, and some students wrote down where to find it. I absolutely love that. I don’t really think that it makes a big difference to them, but when I say that we’re only going to pray at the beginning of class, some beg for a verse or worship thought. It is possible that they are treating me like we treated Mr. Gammon in high school. Any way to get him off on a tangent about how he met his wife or how he fixed something would take up some of the class period. We were always so proud of ourselves. (Sorry, Mr. Gammon.) There are some students who always write down where to find the text that I have read, and I feel so encouraged by this. I would do anything to get them into their Bibles.
I have so much to do. I have to go.
Oh, by the way, some classes have switched for this second semester. I am still teaching two periods of English for tenth grade, but I am also teaching vocabulary and reading (1 period) to 9B, grammar to 9B, and a vocabulary and study class to 9A. The study part of that class teaches them how to take notes and figure out meanings of words from the context. I think that it will be good for them. I feel a lot better about my classes this semester. I feel more competent and am grateful for more structure in my classes, yet I have this haunting anticipation of feeling overwhelmed. It’s like I see a very distant tidal wave, and I am awaiting my death—wow, I am so dramatic right now. Haha. But I feel it. Ah.
The SMs took a group picture this weekend when we were at an American lady’s house (this meant that we could put our arms around each other… which is always something to feel rebellious about), and Alec laughed and said, “I have you trapped in my armpit!” and wouldn’t let me go. I will never be the same. I asked God to never let me be the same before I came here, but
that’s not what I meant.
I will never be the same.
Shidif sharuk shid, itaany gai bilhed. I don’t know how to spell this in English, and I can barely say it in Arabic, but I learned it when we were watching Egypt’s soccer team play Ghana for the African cup on Sunday night. It means something to the effect of pulling your hair (I don’t know if it’s me pulling it or you pulling your own hair—I think the latter) and the next goal will be at your head. Whatever floats your boat.
I am really weirded out right now, and I can't concentrate.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Skunk water, New semester, More effort, "bint el marhome"
One of my friends sent me the song "Thank You" by Ray Boltz. I had never really paid much attention to the words, but it made me feel really good. I always feel like there is so much more that I could and should be doing, and I am sure that everyone always feels like that. But I'm trying to step it up because I only have one more semester here. I want no regrets. The girls don't really play sports ever because the guys always are, so we started a sports day for the girls only, and I'm re-starting an optional early morning worship tomorrow. They had it last year, but it hasn't been going this year. I really like the song. I'm listening to it again. Some kids just seem hopeless and disinterested, but I need to know that God is bigger than my expectations or my supposed logic.
Will you please pray that God would rid me of some things and help me to stay focused. I'm kind of having some trouble, and I feel like my problems would just go away if I was better focused on Him.
And pray for my kids here. I love them. I don't know how to even tell you how much I love them. They're so funny. I now respond to "bint e John," "John," "bint e Gohn," "Juney" (an attempt to say "Johnny"), "ya bint el marhome"... and the list goes on. But they're obsessed with my dad. There are some that I just love, and I'm working so hard to teach them grammar because they should definitely be held back because they're not at the level they should be, but I want them to be caught up so bad. I have not put much effort into helping them outside of class. I always act overwhelmed, and then just waste my time tweezing my eyebrows or wandering around the room looking for chocolate, but I need to be more organized and focused. Krista helps them at study hall every single night. I admire her so much. I really love her. I got to teach her geometry class today, and it felt so good. And I helped kids with their math homework because I was on study hall supervision tonight, and I loved it.
I said something yesterday and caught myself after I said it. "One nice thing about living in Egypt is that you can punch your students." Wow, that makes me sound like a crazy person. I don't really punch them, but the joking around here is more aggressive. I sat in the staff room and watched Om Fady (the cafeteria lady) chase Benjamin (our serious, mild-mannered SA President) around the staff room hitting him and laughing. He would run away and pull a chair in her path. It was hilarious. In one of my classes yesterday afternoon, one of the guys shook my hand and it had a thumb tack in it. He laughed, and I punched him in the arm and told him sternly that that was really rude and he shouldn't do that. He giggled and ran away. Jerk (for lack of a better word). It hard to find a line between teacher and friend. I am a teacher in class, and I like to make class fun, but I also want to get things done. But if out of class I am a good friend that they can talk about their problems to and just hang out with, it is hard to completely separate the two. I was realizing that as a teacher, there is always a barrier that you have to keep up. If you take it down, you make yourselves equals. (At least at my age)If I show that I am vulnerable just like they are, then I am more their equal than a teacher, which makes it hard. But sometimes I feel like I need to be seen as their equal (which I am) to really be effective. I don't know. It's a fine line. In the class, I try to make sure that they don't cross any lines with me. I have to go.
I have had a big log of a splinter stuck in my foot since last Saturday night, but it's too big and too deep for me to get out by myself, and I'm too foffy (wimpy) to have Mrs. Peggy cut open my foot. So I'm just waiting until my wonderfully made body pushes the foreign object to the surface of my skin. Then I'll get it.
God bless you.
Will you please pray that God would rid me of some things and help me to stay focused. I'm kind of having some trouble, and I feel like my problems would just go away if I was better focused on Him.
And pray for my kids here. I love them. I don't know how to even tell you how much I love them. They're so funny. I now respond to "bint e John," "John," "bint e Gohn," "Juney" (an attempt to say "Johnny"), "ya bint el marhome"... and the list goes on. But they're obsessed with my dad. There are some that I just love, and I'm working so hard to teach them grammar because they should definitely be held back because they're not at the level they should be, but I want them to be caught up so bad. I have not put much effort into helping them outside of class. I always act overwhelmed, and then just waste my time tweezing my eyebrows or wandering around the room looking for chocolate, but I need to be more organized and focused. Krista helps them at study hall every single night. I admire her so much. I really love her. I got to teach her geometry class today, and it felt so good. And I helped kids with their math homework because I was on study hall supervision tonight, and I loved it.
It's so interesting how one letter can make such a difference in a word. I don't know what is inappropriate to write on here, but we can't help but laugh about their innocent mistakes. Crab becomes crap. Public becomes pubic. Test become teste. These poor things don't even know.
Some days when I'm feeling defiant, I feel like pretending to have fallen into a laying position on the grass. I can't lay on my stomach and read my Bible because girls can't lay down in front of guys. To be honest, sometimes I wear shirts that I know the Egyptians girls would consider too low. The Sudanese girls might not, and nothing is showing, so it's kind of a jab of defiance.
For some reason, when I am explaining new vocab words, a lot of the examples that I give have to do with relationships, and I think that I am unconsciously feeding their curiosity. But now that I realize it, it's not so unconscious. I explained that people kind of "linger" when they say goodbye to the person they like. "Would you want to marry a person who is 'uncertain' that he loves you?" etc. - - When I explain words, I act them out as best as possible so that they can better remember them. It's fun. I was acting out "panic," and I started shrieking and pointed and yelled "haraamy" (thief). I Also shrieked and backed into the board and pointed at an invisible mouse on the floor. Alec just stuck his head in the door and then left. - They're so cute, and they like each other because they're normal. They play this game on Thursday nights where they stand in a circle and hold hands, and then two people go around and hit two people's hands. They have to run opposite directions and race back to the original spot. Why do they play it? So that they can hold their boyfriend or girlfriend's hand. So cute.
After a little while, the water that we get from the Deckers' starts to smell like a skunk. It has gone through a reverse osmosis filter, so it's really good water, but it just reeks. I'm not quite sure why. The tap water has a disgusting amount of iron it. Trei (Pastor Tom and Gladys' son) took a picture of their filter after a month. Oh boy...
I said something yesterday and caught myself after I said it. "One nice thing about living in Egypt is that you can punch your students." Wow, that makes me sound like a crazy person. I don't really punch them, but the joking around here is more aggressive. I sat in the staff room and watched Om Fady (the cafeteria lady) chase Benjamin (our serious, mild-mannered SA President) around the staff room hitting him and laughing. He would run away and pull a chair in her path. It was hilarious. In one of my classes yesterday afternoon, one of the guys shook my hand and it had a thumb tack in it. He laughed, and I punched him in the arm and told him sternly that that was really rude and he shouldn't do that. He giggled and ran away. Jerk (for lack of a better word). It hard to find a line between teacher and friend. I am a teacher in class, and I like to make class fun, but I also want to get things done. But if out of class I am a good friend that they can talk about their problems to and just hang out with, it is hard to completely separate the two. I was realizing that as a teacher, there is always a barrier that you have to keep up. If you take it down, you make yourselves equals. (At least at my age)If I show that I am vulnerable just like they are, then I am more their equal than a teacher, which makes it hard. But sometimes I feel like I need to be seen as their equal (which I am) to really be effective. I don't know. It's a fine line. In the class, I try to make sure that they don't cross any lines with me. I have to go.
I have had a big log of a splinter stuck in my foot since last Saturday night, but it's too big and too deep for me to get out by myself, and I'm too foffy (wimpy) to have Mrs. Peggy cut open my foot. So I'm just waiting until my wonderfully made body pushes the foreign object to the surface of my skin. Then I'll get it.
God bless you.
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