intangible work

to counter my last doom and gloom post, i'd like to share an uncharacteristically entertaining and enjoyable evening with you all.

last night, at the behest- ehhem... i mean request - of a fellow colleague, i agreed to tag along on a school field trip to a big city nearby for what they told me would be an opera (which actually was a splendid musical).

two full buses worth of students and teachers piled into the soviet-era transport devices and we shuffled ourselves to this lovely city. coincidentally, i had spent much of last week there at an HIV/AIDS and Anti-Trafficking conference with a counterpart of mine and attended a lovely Beethoven symphony in the same theater. i had also had time to peruse the city and was familiar with the central area. as we drove there, i mentally amassed a quick list of things to accomplish during the hour or two afforded us prior to the musical's commencement.

on my list of adventures to knock off whilst meandering around blissfully alone and in peace were...

the purchase of a brand new white out thing-a-ma-jigger.
the purchase of dried apricots.
wandering through the huge fruit and vegetable bazaar.
having another look at ancient roman ruins.
listening to lots of new music.
drinking a delicious dulgo kafe (think really strong, tall espresso).

it was simply marvelous. the weather was near summer-like, the sun shining and the temperatures warranting outdoor cafe service. i spent the whole "free time" period alone, too happy to be concerned about my blatant disregard for the opportunity to integrate with the teachers.

i think i often forget that, unlike these teachers (most of whom i have little in common to begin with), i'm constantly at work even when i'm not technically at work. cultural integration and adaptation is a heck of a lot of work every single day. or so i told myself yesterday as i wandered away from the group.

when the designated time arrived, i met up with the kiddos and the teachers to grab my ticket for the musical. we crammed ourselves inside and thus it began.

i must admit that the musical was delightful. any and all of my previous apprehensions and worries about not understanding any of it were put to rest quickly, as the humor of the musical 'charley's aunt' and the animated actors brought it to life. an interview with the actor who played charley's aunt is here.

it was such an enjoyable experience, i soon forgot everything. i forgot i didn't understand every word of it. i forgot i was with no one who spoke english. i forgot how exhausted i had previously felt from the tedium of cultural work. completely forgot about all my sulking, and my sticky negativity and the defeat beating me down. i forgot how, for many of the kids that went with me, this was their first time in this big city.

and, in the most unlikely of places- the production of an english musical in another language on the other side of the world -i remembered to breathe and to smile because i have so much to be grateful for. i remembered that the work being done here is often work i cannot see with my eyes or touch with my hands.

enthusiastic failure?

"Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm." -unknown.

not too long ago i wrote about gergana, my energetic and bright little english student. i wrote about how pleasant it was for me to spend time teaching her. about how much i gained from the experience and about how truly successful i felt in my efforts exerted with her.

yesterday, i didn't hear her sweet knock on my door, making this the second week that gergana has failed to show. hoping to find an excuse for her absence, i headed to her baba's apartment looking for her there. i found nothing.

ivan is another student i tutor privately. his level of english is truly remarkable. he expressed interest in taking the TOEFL exam this summer in hopes of applying for schools outside of this town and this country.

for weeks now, we've been studying essay structures, glancing frequently at the guide to TOEFL essay preparation. he's been learning to formulate an opinion he can back up, to think in a way that isn't taught here, to write an essay that isn't a page of his opinionated ramblings. two weeks ago, he wrote his first whole essay about how the internet has changed personal interactions.

so much progress was being made. he was enthusiastic and energized about the upcoming test. he was getting caught up to his peers, all of whom are taking specific courses in larger towns for TOEFL prep.

and then today, something went wrong. an argument with another teacher and then, the director, left him sapped of the confidence we had been slowly building in him. i do not know what was said amongst them. i never will.

but, today he came to me and told me he no longer was planning to take the TOEFL test. in fact, he said, he no longer cared to meet or practice essay-writing. he is done. devoid of any small amount of hope, enthusiasm or belief in a world outside of this small place.



so here i find myself. sitting in my apartment with a new computer given to me by the school, but without textbooks for my classes. here i find myself trying to make sense of things that just do not make sense. here i find myself struggling to instill and then to cultivate the tiniest amount of hope in these two bright students. here i find myself without the ability to keep them coming back. without the ability to make them want to learn, to seek out more for themselves. here i find myself searching, hoping, praying i can find a way to maintain enthusiasm in a remarkably unenthusiastic place.

what, exactly, does that look like?

i get to leave. they don't. and i can't adequately foster hope in either of them, no matter how young, that the world is more than this small, oppressive place.

if you're someone who has ever encouraged me, supported me or helped me cultivate my sense of ambition and freedom- and you read this blog- i would like to extend a thank you to you. i had no idea how incredibly important it is to have encouragement coming at you from family, friends, teachers, or community members until i arrived here.

a blessing

distracted by an unusually positive sense of hope and a simultaneous bout of self-consciousness at having learned i would only be team-teaching next year, i stormed out the front door of the school with an unbridled sense of freedom. free for the rest of the day. free from my 9th graders. free from inna's 'hot' blasting from impossibly expensive cell phones. free from any negative outcomes of our latest inspection that quelled my arts and crafts activity yesterday afternoon because it was rousing the students in a manner that was 'too loud.'

just as i was celebrating all these mini-victories in my head-- quite a few for one day-- i looked up to find myself walking right into a colossal fist fight. boys, primarily boys i had not ever seen before mingled with some from the 9th grade, beating the absolute crap out of one another. i looked down and away with a sudden jolt of anxiety. pools flowed into dispersed streams of bright red blood. the rain pattering on my glasses further blurred my vision as i yanked my head back up and kept walking by, silently panicking at my utter uselessness. what would i do? call the director? call the police? say something. no. no. and no.

someone with more foresight and a better grasp of the language under pressure stumbled across the entanglement. i walked to what felt like a safe distance from the crowd and watched as the scene unfolded. after a while, one police car arrived only to spew out two fairly nonchalant officers, clearly annoyed to be in charge of this mess. by this time, groups had parted and were beginning to disband in alternate directions and i noticed one of the more capable 9th grade boys emerge from the center, his face stained with blood dripping down from a wound on his forehead.

and, in that moment, i thought that i should give the universe more credit because it finally hit me. a point pounded into my head with the force of a thousands hammers. i am in no way capable of managing these 9th grade students; negotiating the complexities of these students' behavioral problems really should not be a job i have to do alone.

*sigh of relief*

it will be a blessing to teach with the other teachers next year. i no longer feel shame in this admission. it is not surrender to accept that i cannot handle these boys on my own. indeed, it is a wise and welcome decision. my ego can just get over the 'you're not good enough' reel that is on repeat in my head.

my sanity will be grateful in the end.

cultural debauchery

today i offer another excuse for poor writing and lame blog posting: exhaustion. engrossed in a distinct and yet, not entirely unfamiliar sense of utter and complete energy depletion, i have returned from a rather cultural weekend in the mountains only to find myself a big worthless blob.

it was one of the most enjoyable weekends to date in this country, full of new and interesting celebrations, cheap beer, a cacophony of kukeri bells, peaceful and rowdy companions and... pine tree-clad mountains. i set off to visit a volunteer from my group in her bird's nest of an apartment. nestled in the highest town of the southern end of the country, this little mountain abode awoke my homesickness for mountains and for colorado.the view from her apartment

well, let's be honest. being in this apartment, staring out from her balcony at this view made me ache to be anywhere else than where i currently am. it made me want to beg for an immediate transfer to any vacant apartment in her town. fortunately, the cultural offerings of the weekend saved the day and i got over my longing quickly enough.

a 45 minute bus ride with standing room only brought me and my packer's bag full of superfluous stuff to a tiny mountain village, home to the best musical high school in the country. i managed, too, to stumble across a ticket to the lively production of music performed by students of said school that evening.



the village played host to a famous festival that occurs every year on the first sunday in march-- the kukeri festival. the gist of kukeri is that surrounding villages come with masks and costumes and preposterous enactments of life (mostly parodies of gypsy life) in tow to entertain large audiences. kukeri, as i learned it, were once thought to ward off evil spirits at the beginning of spring, though i'm sure my wikipedia link above affords a more concise detailing of just who these kukeri folk are.

in sum: the weekend was absolutely enjoyable, as all escapes from my rather sleepy town tend to be. i currently am nursing my emotional hangover and working on getting myself caught up on sleep. again.

so far, this experience feels a lot more like the college experience i did not have than anything else. but, oh, what fun all this debauchery is.

starbursts

it finally felt like i had run out of options. with my energy sapped from earlier classes this week and a general disinterest in concocting grandiose lesson plans, i committed to a path of positive reinforcement.

starbursts.

i walked into class prepared today. we skipped our usual yoga routine complete with bowing at the tail end of intentionally quiet and soothing stretches. we skipped homework checks because i had not assigned homework. we skipped any and all conversations about why we weren't going to be playing games.

we dove right into king arthur and his roundtable plotting in camelot. a whole page worth of copying and then translating. i did not crack a smile. i was not lenient with those who had forgotten to bring a pen. for the first time since arriving here, i felt that structure would necessarily have to be enforced or i was going to lose any hope of control (read: me going completely batty).

they're 6th graders. i taught their sleepy and lethargic first-period brains four days a week last semester but now have the unfortunate disadvantage of teaching them during one of the last classes of the day after their gym class. they are unruly. no, they're absurd. my mother (of course) was right when she told me it mattered what time of day i taught them. i just wanted to complain about needing extra morning snooze time.

shortly after we commenced, i began shelling out individually wrapped starbursts to those i found jotting arthur's story down quietly. and soon, the blabbermouths began to notice. and they began writing. fifteen minutes into class, i had the entire class writing when two days ago, i could not keep one out of the window long enough to break up an argument between two others.

it. was. amazing. it is not sustainable, but for that period of 45 minutes of my life, i felt like i was not utterly failing at this teaching gig. it reaffirmed my belief that positive reinforcement not only is a more efficient management style, it is also a method i am better suited to utilize. my sweet and sympathetic demeanor doesn't naturally lend itself to screaming at kids in a language i really have not mastered.

now if only i could figure out how to reinvent positive reinforcement without starbursts, i'd be set. starbursts, after all, are in short supply and, undoubtedly, there's a better way to embrace this whole being positive strategy without candy.

but, it is the candy i give out and the games that i play that have the teachers most thoroughly entertained and busily conversing about. perhaps i should continue to provide them with "i can't believe she plays so many games" and "what must those students be learning?" fodder for all of those coffee dates i cannot bring myself to suffocate through?

emerging a bit from silence

i am trying to pull myself from this sequestered corner i have been hibernating in, i really am. i am only marginally succeeding.

nearly a month has passed since the dawn of the new semester and the start of a more lenient schedule. february, despite all expectations otherwise, passed by rather quickly. until last week, the weather warmed nicely and tricked me into thinking i could begin my more regimented running routine. on friday, though, it changed its mind and dumped several feet of snow on the ground, knocking out the power and my lifeline (*ahem* internet connection) all together.

a weekend of gallivanting through sofia helped my disposition enormously, as did the starbucks frappacino i consumed in spite of the freezing temperatures and persistent snow fall.


i haven't much interesting to report, so i'll divvy out one good morsel of hope and one crazy story having to do with the mysteries of this school system.

several months ago, a good student of mine flicked his cigarette at me in my classroom after asking him to put it out. the saga did not develop into any major drama and a brief conversation with his mother (not executed by me) did the trick. in the weeks and months since, he has been remarkable as far as students are concerned, respectful and eager to participate and learn; on some days, he is the only student i can persuade in a class of 13 students to do any of the exercises and projects i have planned, while the rest look at me with disdainful looks challenging me to get them to work.

anyway, this student approached me recently and told me to speak to him only in english. his father, he reported, had encouraged him to ask me to speak to him only in english so he could learn as much english as possible during my tenure here.

as i write this, i reflect on how this must play out for all of you reading at home. it seems awfully inconsequential, doesn't it? something that should almost happen automatically with the nature of my job. well, or at least you'd like to think so.

but for me, this was a monumental leap forward with this student, a roma student other teachers constantly lament over. though i am failing in assigning appropriate weight to the whole incident on my blog, i am happy to report, that two weeks later, he is still speaking in english with me.

one facet of this system that continues to baffle me is the absence policy for students. today, i was given a stern talking to because i have been writing absences in the class books everyday. this is nothing if not a point of contention for me every single day (and i suspect it will continue to be). the issue at hand was the amount of work i was creating for this classroom teacher by writing in daily absences. you see, this creates work for her because she then has to justify excusing the absences when we all know the students are in one of the three cafes drinking coffee and skipping class. how many excuses are there for emergency coffee breaks?

the paradox is incomprehensible to me. on the one hand, i am supposed to write absences, as it has been promised to me that consequences will follow. however, on the other hand, it was made clear that absences should not be figured into overall grade calculations; they are simply to be recorded daily and not to be used as ammunition against students come end of the term.

i feel stuck. i want to write absences in hopes they will beget the helplessness i feel with the grading. yet, writing the absences requires someone (if not me, and certainly not the students) to account for them, then i begin contemplating surrender and apathy. the worst part of it all: these daily recordings create work and animosity between two teachers who ultimately have no control over the larger picture and the ensuing absurdity and frustration feels like a waste of energy.

that's where i am at right now. someday i suppose i'll look back on all of this utter ridiculousness and laugh, but right now, i just want to scream.

i hope that as the weather continues to warm, the overall process of being here will alter and i will have more insightful and positive anecdotes to dish out. keep hanging in there with me people. i promise i have more to say than this. i just have to pull it out of me.

oceans

meet gergana.

my little english student and i studied underwater animals today thanks to a few instant sponge animals that came in the mail last week.


it all began with her baba, who would lovingly shout at me from her elevated balcony as i strolled by her building during the summer. eventually, we began running into each other buying tomatoes and perusing the streets of the town. one day, she finally bit the bullet and asked if i would tutor her granddaughter. i tentatively agreed, knowing that my previous attempts to "tutor" anyone had been less than fruitful.

however, every week since, for almost two months now, this bright little 8 year-old girl has come over to study english outside of her weekly classes. my experiences and hours spent with her are slated among the richest and most fulfilling thus far.

we drink hot chocolate and practice english and her little sponge of a brain just flabbergasts me. it is exciting, truly, to be visibly reaching (and teaching) someone here.

and while we may just be making oceans of sea creatures with paper and glue, she (quite unknowingly) provides me with an ocean of tangible results and rewards to selectively sort through on low days. and for this, i am simply grateful.

welcome to my wonderful monday afternoons =)