Last week I stumbled upon the key to communicating with my students: the board. The specific class this incident involves is the 7th graders I have, and we're currently working on the seasons. We've been learning vocabulary (names of the seasons, characteristics, etc.) and now we're attempting to move on to describe weather and different kinds of scenery. Anyway, one day last week, I can't remember exactly which one, I had given each student a different picture that I cut out of a National Geographic magazine. They were supposed to write five words that described their specific picture. It turns out this was too advanced for them to do on their own, so we ended up working together on each picture. By the end of the class, the entire white board (and it's a pretty big one) was covered with pictures (things such as mountains, flowers, clouds, trees, branches, etc.) and then their appropriate English names. I had my camera with me for something in another class, and I was suddenly inspired. I asked my students to stand in front of the board so I could take a picture of them all in front of our accomplishment for the day. One of the girls made the "be right back" motion (different here than the one used in the States) and headed out the door. I assumed she was going to fix her hair. She came back with another student - one she had pulled out from the larger class with their regular teacher - so he could take the picture so I could be in it with them. Then before they would let him take the picture, they took my dry erase markers and added some sweet grafiti to the board (a few "I love teacher," "I love Tirisa"
So fast forward to today. At school this week I will be working primarily with six students who are going to an English competition on Friday. The competition includes all the Arab schools in Israel, and it seems to be a pretty big deal. It consists of a written exam, and so far as I can figure, that's all. There are three students going from both the eighth and the ninth grades, and it is my privilege to work with them to prepare them somewhat for Friday. When I looked at the practice tests this morning, I just deflated. All the hope I had disappeared. It's been so long since I worked with the top levels in each grade (well over a month) that I forgot how smart they were, and all I could think of were the weaker students I have, and they wouldn't be able to get through the first page of the practice test. Anyway, I gathered my courage and intestinal fortitude and determined to do the best I could, and at least encourage the students to do their best - whatever that ended up being. I was pleasantly surprised. Really...pleasantly shocked and blown away. The competition puts a lot of emphasis on grammar, which is really unfair because the new curriculum in Israel puts nearly no emphasis on it whatsoever. But these students...they did amazing. We still have a lot of work to do to prepare for Friday, but I have high hopes for them. And what I did today with these students felt more like teaching than anything I've done so far.
Okay, so back to Saturday. I spent most of Friday in bed, feeling as if I'd been hit by a very large truck (as I think I mentioned). Wonderful Tiffany brought me leftovers from Thanksgiving dinner, which gave me the necessary fuel to come to the internet cafe and blog them. So welcome to Saturday. I woke up at a decent hour (for once) and just puttered around the apartment a bit. (In my mind I had a very clever joke about how the size of my apartment significantly lessens my puttering abilities, but outside my head it's remarkably less funny.) Anyway, I did some reading for University, I made some necklaces (my classes at the bead shop have turned me into a bead-jewelry making machine!), and of course, ate. Daive, poor thing, spent the entire morning staring at me, completely awake, attentive, and obviously bored out of her little canine skull. Around 2:00 PM I finally felt guilty enough and decided to take her for a decent walk. We went over to the park by the "river" (more on that later) a few blocks from my house and we had a delightful time. Since it was Shabbat, the park had a lot of people, families, walking with their strollers, their kids on bikes or rollerblades, or their dogs. There were old people decked out as if it was the North Pole rather than Tel Aviv, couples lounging on blankets by the river as if the river was something enjoyable rather than disgusting, and dogs dogs dogs. So many dogs. And (this is where it gets sappy, cheesy, and good) everyone seemed so happy. Except for the homeless men yelling at each other, nearly everyone was friendly and kind, enjoying their day of rest with those they loved the most (whether that be a piece of exercise equipment, a canine, or a human). Daive and I stumbled upon another little dog, and he and Daive ran and played like I haven't seen her play in a long time. Okay...I love the movie You've Got Mail. I think it's one of the most generally pleasant movies ever. If you've seen it, think with me of the part where Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks are both walking to work on the sidewalk, just a short distance from each other (after they've already started corresponding via email) oblivious to the other. Anyway...it's a very pleasant scene - autumn in New York, the leaves, and so on and so on. Okay...take the pleasantness of that scene, change everything else about it, and that's kinda what I experienced on Saturday. It's a common proverb around here that Israelis are like this kind of fruit they sell over here. I don't know what it's called, but it's all knotty and gnarled on the outside, and then sweet and wonderful on the inside. I always understood it to be a way to excuse their atrocious lack of manners and so on, but I'm beginning to see the truth behind it. I can't even begin to tell you about all the people who have been extremely kind to me - a complete stranger I met in this internet cafe took my number and invited me over for dinner when she found out I was from the States and was homesick. The lady who runs the pet supply store on the other side of my block gave me the magnet with the store's number on it and instructed me to call if I ever needed any help with Hebrew, or understanding some aspect of Israeli life/culture.
Let me tell you about walking around my block. It feels like home now...which is SO exciting. I know people at both kiosks (like a convenience store only smaller and no gas pumps), the grocery store, the pet supply store, of course, the ice cream shop, and the miscellaneous store. I was walking Daive last week, and the man at the misc. store called me in to show me the new shelves they'd installed. The lady at one of the kiosks translated the mean letter from my neighbors the first week I was in my apartment. The man at the other kiosk knows what kind of prepaid cell card I need and tells me when they have international calling cards in stock and when they don't. There is a couscous restaurant in the very front of my building, and though I've only eaten there once (and didn't particularly care for it, to be honest) I'm on friendly terms with the owner/chef and the waitress. They ask me about my dog when I'm out without her. And of course, because I've been in such a perpetual funk, it didn't even occur to me that this was a wonderful thing until Tiffany came over and we went for ice cream. On the way I saw almost all the people that I am familiar with, and it took her commenting on it for me to realize just how much it's become home for me.
I got a Time magazine from a newstand over here, and the main article was about whether our genetics dictate our tendency to be spiritual or not. I have underlined key passages in this article and have MUCH to say about it...but not today. Even though I took a nap too embarrassingly long to mention here, I need to get home and go to bed so I can be up in time tomorrow morning. Keep a look out for my rantings about the Time article though...it'll be a doozy, but interesting at the very least.
