First day of school!

Alrighty, so, I feel I need to blog after today.  It was my first "official" day at Dar Al-Kalima School in Beit Lehem.  I spent the day following the teacher who teaches English to 6-10th graders (I think).  I watched 7th, 8th, and 9th grade classes today.  

The first class I watched was in 9th grade, which proved to be extremely interesting.  They were working out of a workbook and their comprehension questions were on a story about two ex-pats.  So, the class was discussing reasons for moving out of one's birth country and living in another country.  As the teacher was waiting for answers, I thought about my answers.  My answers were like, volunteering, falling in love, wanting to see a different part of the world, etc.  The students' answers were a bit different.  The first thing one boy said was to find a better life.  The answers that proceeded included getting a passport for another country, getting a job, getting out to be free, finding someone to marry to get a different passport, etc, etc.  The teacher then asked if that seemed correct to me.  I was shocked.  I felt so put on the spot, because these kids were giving these intense life reasons for being in a different country, and here I was, living in Palestine almost for fun.  Like, I have the golden ticket here.  International passports equal extreme, extreme privelege.  Literally, there are towns that can only harvest their olive fields with international help, or else they'll be killed by Israeli settlers.  I somehow stuttered out an answer that I hope conveyed affirming their correct answers, but also acknowledging we're from different parts of the world.  I felt ashamed of my golden ticket at that moment.  It was in that moment that I realized growing up in an occupied land, or even in a developing country, is hard.  It stinks.  I would bet money that very few 9th graders in the United States would list getting a better passport as a reason to move to another country.

The English-tutoring was hard in the classes today, because they're learning English in a very different way than how I learned it.  Some of it was more strict English learning, like the 'past simple' and such, that I can't even remember.  It was also strange to see a teacher making so many grammatical and spelling mistakes in an English classroom.  Granted, she had phenomenal English and Arabic was her first language.  It was just different.  

My favorite lesson of the day was watching how she taught the seventh graders.  She actually left me with them for a few minutes, so she could go grab her books.  She told me to talk to them or play a game or something.  I was totally on the spot, so I just sort of introduced myself and told them about Pennsylvania and the United States.  They asked me my hobbies and such.  I told them that I like swimming, photography, traveling, etc.  One boy asked if I liked to sing.  I said yes, but with some hesitation.  The entire class was immediately rallied into cheering for me to sing something...anything!  I was panicked!  I took voice lessons in college and I love, love, LOVE singing, but I have the worst stage fright.  Like, my voice lessons juries usually ended in me feeling like I was going to throw up, after completely bombing a semester's worth of work on a song.  It's weird.  They continued insisting though, and herds of children are pretty intimidating.  I couldn't think of a song that they would appreciate hearing with the language difference.  They suggested that I sing 50 Cent, Eminem, or even Backstreet Boys.  I couldn't sing either of the first two out of appropriateness and I refrained from BSB for humorsake.  I finally suggested Happy Birthday and they were thrilled.  So...I sang Happy Birthday to a group of Palestinian seventh graders.  They cheered and were pleased, I guess.  I felt like a moron though.  The teacher walked in about 30 seconds after I finished singing and she was upset that she hadn't heard me sing.  She started the lesson, which involved each student telling the class who his or her favorite singer is and why.  Several mentioned Arabic singers that I didn't recognize.  One guy started talking about his favorite singer and I couldn't really understand him...until I heard "Smack that."  Yes, yes, my friends.  This seventh grade Palestinian student's favorite musician is Akon and his favorite song is Smack That.  I won't spell it out here, but Google the lyrics for "Smack That" if you don't know it.  Or, just assume that it was a song I was not expecting to hear in a 7th-grade classroom.  Well!  This continued!  The teacher asked for a volunteer to sing it.  So, I watched a very small 7th-grade Palestinian boy sing "Smack That" in a very dry voice.  I laughed...a lot.  The volunteer singing continued.  The teacher actually came over and asked me to sing again and I hesitated.  She asked me to sing something, 'anything' (I don't what's with this group and 'anything'!).  So, I debated and debated, and finally decided to sing "Part of Your World" from The Little Mermaid.  I figured I knew most of the words and the movie was likely to have been dubbed in Arabic.  Well...I sang...and they couldn't understand me, but said I had a beautiful voice.  It was strange though.  The best part of this lesson came after my singing though.  This one boy volunteered to sing in front of the class.  He composed himself, then began to sing.  "Every night in my dreams..."  YES!  This, again, 7th-grade Palestinian boy sang "My Heart Will Go On" by Celine Dion.  I lost it.  Straight up.  I was in hysterics and crying.  The teacher was laughing, the entire class was laughing, and the boy himself was laughing.  We were all hysterical for a good five minutes.  One boy even fell out of his chair!  I don't really know if they thought it was as funny as I did, or if they were laughing because I thought it was so funny.  Regardless, it was a good afternoon.  

Schools here are slightly intense though.  There is a very different style of classroom management.  In fact, my one roommate said it best: it looks like it's waiting for a lawsuit.  Kids are able to run around a lot more.  There are no single-file lines wandering through the hallways.  They don't eat lunch at school, because their big meal is at 2:30pm or so, which is after school lets out.  They snack here and there at their breaks and recesses.  This means lots of children running around, munching on pitas, and just being generally chaotic.  I watched a teacher hustle a group of 9th-grade boys back into their classroom, because they were carrying the human anatomy body, with removable organs, out into the hallway.  I was reminded at this moment that we're really all the same.  We may have different hair color or religions, but in the end, we're all 9th-grade boys carrying the science dummy out into the hallway.

It was a crazy, hectic day.  I felt like I was hit by a bus.  It was good though.  I'll be riding the school bus to and from work.  It's pretty normal actually.  Many teachers ride the buses with the students.  I'll be getting my bus about a block up the hill at 7:05am and I'll be home by like, 2:45pm.  It's not bad! 

Oh, I did want to post a thought out here for anyone with a connection to students.  The teacher I spent the day asked if I'd be able to arrange a pen-pal type arrangement with any students in the United States.  So, to those of you reading my blogs, let me know if you have anyone that would be willing to work with me on this.  She asked this in the 9th grade class, but it's primarily to work on English writing skills and to learn about culture, so it could probably be any grade.  Thanks!

Quick note about our apartment and nearby facillities: we're less than a block away from a market that has gelato and cheese.  Good cheese.  In fact, we bought so much last night (it was only like a pound...but that's a lot in this culture), that the shop keeper told us we were his "best cheese shoppers."  He was the first Palestinian in Amnesty International and coordinates the Palestinian AI branch...or what's left of it.  The IDF bombed their offices in 2002.  Literally, they bombed the office in Gaza and Ramallah within an hour of each other.  Crazy.

Alright, much love, but that 7:05am bus ride is coming sooner and sooner.  I hope this was amusing or informative or both.  I rambled a lot tonight.  Sorry.

Dear God,
Thanks for this crazy stressful day.  Thanks for my apartment and new friends.  Thank you for protecting and loving me.  Please be with the Palestinian people to continue to instill hope.  All this I ask in your Son's precious and holy name, Amen.