On another note, it was really fun to be at the posada with "my people." Even though there were many there that I didn't know (from other schools and administration), I knew and was comfortable with everyone at my table. There was no jumping into a conversation or explaining where I was from and why I was there. I was also able to joke around immediately with my teachers. We get each other. I've had lots of fun at all the other parties, but it seems like a night full of meeting people and going over my stats.
So...
Friday I'm dragging. I get on the bus a little late (and this driver was awful). I need to be at school at 8:50. I usually leave my house by 8 and make it to sign in by 8:40, latest. Since most of the city has to be at work at 8 (I'm guessing), the bus is always empty enough that I get a seat. I suppose I was slow moving on Friday! I didn't get out of the house until 8:15. And even then, when I got on the bus, it was PACKED! I was in good company sleeping in late! This driver was terrible, so I was slung all over the place until about half-way through the route, when I got my own seat. And even then, somehow my knees touched the seat in front of me and were rammed into said seat repeatedly due to neck-breaking stops.
I got to school right at the stroke of 8:50 and sign in. I get my head on straight to teach for the day. Each morning I have to remember which groups I'll be teaching and what they're ready for. I grab my markers, CD player, book and cell phone and head to 2nd grade. They've had several good classes lately, but this one will be difficult. While we've been working on professions and using not, they threw a kink in things this lesson.
"My mom's a photographer."
"My mom's not a teacher."
That's what they'd been learning and they had it down. I had a gesture for "not" (I made a big "x" with my arms) so it had almost become automatic. Well, in this lesson, without teaching it, they put "My mom isn't a teacher."
So many problems here:
First, there's no "not," which is what they're looking for.
Second, "isn't" is a tough concept because contractions are just hard. So I'll need to explain that "isn't" comes from "is" and "not," getting rid of the "o." Anyone see a problem here? I'll give you a minute to review what they've learned...
That's right, THIRD, they've never even learned "is." In the original sentence, it was an apostrophe with a name or relationship.
Cool.
Let me continue. I arrive a little after 8:50. Rocio, their teacher, was in the computer room eating tamales (she brought them, made in the style from her hometown) because of the "cold." Apparently there's less beer and more tamales during "winter."
Ha!
I start teaching and am getting nowhere. No surprise there. It was a tough lesson that needed a trick and I hadn't been prepared enough to think of one. Spontaneity this day was not my friend.
I must also tell you that only half the class was there. I asked where everyone was (though I knew they were "celebrating" the holiday), and Brayan (one who NEVER listens, so I was shocked he heard the question!) says, "Teacher Rocio told us not to come today. She said if we were going to come late or leave early just not to come. We didn't have to come." I'm of course thinking, "Why are you here?!" After twenty minutes of attempting to teach a lesson that I know I'll have to repeat with the other half of the class (and those present because it is not sticking), the bell rings. I ask the kids if that's the recreo bell because it's a good hour and fifteen minutes early. They all think it is, so I shrug my shoulders and tell them they can leave. I wish, of course that I could teach this lesson well, but since that's not happening, I'm happy to have the break.
As I gather my things to join the teachers, I see Rocio herding them back into the classroom. "It's reading time," she says. I give her the puzzled look. She doesn't take the hint so I ask her what's up. She explains to me that on days when there are very few students (aka- all teaching would be lost, great mindset), they let the students read uninterrupted for 30 minutes.
Again, I must digress. The emphasis (or lack thereof I should say) on reading in Mexico is enough to make any US elementary teacher sick. Reading for pleasure is unheard of. The reading that I have seen has been in the context of repeating what the teacher reads, or copying from a book. Lockeland (my little Heaven) has such an amazing reading program, and it's due to a fantastic librarian, an amazing reading specialist, and unbelievable teachers (of all grades and subjects, including us red-headed stepchildren specials teachers). Kids just eat up checking out books, or buying them from the book fair. Reading is incorporated into just about everything we do. It's foreign (no pun intended) to be in an elementary school where reading isn't the basis of, well, everything.
So, back to the bell and reading time. I ask Rocio what I should do and she says to enjoy the moment. Off I prance to the computer room and in come most of the teachers. Independent reading is (big shocker) unsupervised. I decide it's time for me to partake in the tamales, so Hernán heats one up for me. It was good, though I still prefer tamales de elote. After the 30 minutes of reading, the bells rings gain signaling not just the end of reading, but also the beginning of recreo. Are you kidding me? I'm then informed that after recreo, the kids will go home. Can anyone tell me why I bothered dragging my sleepy pompis outta bed this morning?!
I had big plans of visiting La Lomita, the big Catholic church, to see what all was in store for the day, but I was tired. I figured a mass is a mass, right? I got home, took a nap, and got ready for the second of my posadas. I later heard from Maricela (Mabel's sister) that I hadn't really missed anything other than a huge crowd.
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