Dear Friends and Family,

If anyone ever asks you to teach swim lessons to a group of small children whose native language is not even remotely close to yours, politely decline.

No, not really.  I don't want to be negative.  It was a way unique experience, and by unique, I mean total mayhem.  We had second graders today and the main instructor suggested we split the class.  I tried to explain that I would prefer to just watch for today, but I think I negated that statement when I got in the pool to help some of the kids streamline.  Next thing I knew, he had split the class, leaving me with roughly nine second-graders who knew absolutely no English.  

It started off okay.  It was a lot of demonstrating.  I figured out to say, "La..." and point to the wrong way, because that means no, and "Aywa" or "Masbut" and point to the right way, because that means yes or correct.  This helped a little.  The main problem is that these kids get like, one hour per week in a pool and have no interest in really learning how to swim.  Plus, I don't think they really had a lot of one-on-one swimming instruction before.  Plus, I don't speak Arabic.  I was really close at some points to turning around and just telling the teacher I couldn't do it.  It was ridiculously hard.  They wouldn't listen to me, or they would listen to me, then immediately disobey what I had told them with shway shway Arabi and sign language.  

I tried to talk to him at the end and request that we work together for awhile, but again, I'm not sure if that translated.  I had a pleasant surprise though, when riding the bus home.  I try to make small talk in Arabic with the kids around me and I had talked to the girl directly behind me.  She was really quiet and didn't really respond.  I turned back around and her older sister moved up to the seat next to me.  She and I started talking and she told me that she'll be in my older swimming class on Saturday.  She also taught me a few more Arabic words: esbehah (swimming), zreer (baby), ciarra (car), shar (hair), and more.  She also said that she wants to teach me more when we have class.  I was really excited!!!  It was definitely the redeeming force for the sheer inadequacy I felt from the swimming class.  

This really isn't in order of sequence, but I wanted to add that my day yesterday was pretty rough.  I had no schedule and nobody seemed to want me around, and those that did, just wanted slave labor out of me.  I got the bus home, on the early round instead of the 2:15 round that I took Monday, and I was dropped off at the top of my hill.  I started walking towards the market and I heard someone yell my name.  Now, when you're living in another country, it's very rare that you hear your name yelled like that.  I turned around to find one of the American volunteers standing on the patio of the cafe at the top of the hill.  He called me over and asked how my day went.  In my standard Meredith-upset-ness, I started to cry.  I had been holding it in all day and it was one of those, "I feel safe now, let's explode" type of moments.  He encouraged me to come inside where the pastor's wife of the English-speaking congregation, another American volunteer, and a Danish volunteer, all of whom are amazing people.  They ended up listening to me and giving me the advice to be patient and such.  It's not really important what all they said to me as I pass it on to you through this blog, but it was really this amazing feeling to feel wanted by people.  Plus, it was cool, because they were actually in Hebron and very randomly decided to stop in Bethlehem for lunch.  It was intentional from the big guy, I think.  It was so revitalizing though.  I felt much better after it.

Today's English classes were interesting.  The teacher asked the one class if they liked living in their country, and why.  Every student said that they didn't like living in their country.  7th graders.  "I don't feel safe."  "There's no security."  "The government doesn't support us."  "There's nowhere to play or have fun."  "We have no permission to go to Israel."  "I don't like the occupation."And so on, and so on.  My America golden ticket started glimmering in the sun again.  The teacher made a point to say that she didn't like all those things about their country, but that she really liked the stability with families in Palestine.  The culture here is to really live with your parents until the day you're married.  Like, single people don't get apartments, from my understanding.  You live with your parents until you're married, and typically that's when they build another floor on the house for your family of procreation to live.  This was interesting to explain today when the teacher turned to ask me if I like living in the United States and why.  I focused on liking the variety and diversity of our country, and the way you can drive across and see lots of different landscapes and sites, all in the same country.  It really felt so sad to be saying anything about my country, when I was standing in a classroom of students that feel no security or freedom.  It's almost like this perpetual inner-city lifestyle or something.  

Another random, non-chronologically sound story, revolves around yesterday.  I spent the day with the kindergarten class.  This was way fun.  They know absolutely no English, but are the stinking cutest kids ever.  I spent the day helping them string packing peanuts onto...string.  I think they were using the strands to decorate a branch, but I'm not really sure.  Well, in the midst of stringing them, one of the little girls used her limited English to talk to me.  This is how our conversation went:
Girl: "Hello.  Hello.  What is your name?"
Me: "Hello!  My name is Meredith, or Merry." (Merry/Mary is way easier for everyone to say here, so I'm reverting back to my childhood nickname)
Girl: "What is the name of your josik?" ('josik' means husband in Arabic)
Me: "Uh, ana la josi." (Roughly: I don't have a husband.)
Girl: "Lish???" (Why?)
Me: "Uh...we don't get married that young."
Girl: "Hello hello.  What is the name of your baby?"
Me: "La baby."

It was the most bizarre conversation, and it was with a 5-year-old.  Highly amusing.

Alright, I'm off to take a nap or watch some sweet Arabic TV with the roommates.  It's volleyball night.  Every Wednesday, the internationals get together for volleyball at Augusta Victoria on the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem.  So, we're trucking it into J'lem for the evening.  

Much love,
Meredith