I left my house at 7:45, a good 15 minutes before I typically leave. As I was crossing the parking lot, I saw the Canal 3 bus at my stop and knew I would miss it. I also knew that it wouldn't be much longer until the next bus. I got to the stop and waited there. At 7:55, I saw my bus. I stuck my hand up but noticed it was not slowing down! I don't know whether he was running late or if his bus was just overcrowded, but he did not stop. A little after 8, I finally boarded a bus. I arrived at school later than usual, around 8:45. This driver was driving me crazy and I mean crazy.
Absolutamente loca.
Lo.
Ca.
For starters, it felt like we were going in slow motion. Or, worse yet, reverse. He took his sweet time. With about 1/3 of the route left, he started chatting with the high school kids about their grades. By chatting I mean yelling. Incoherently. I don't know if it's a requirement for bus drivers in Culiacán or a coincidence, but I can never understand them well.
He went on and on about his grades. I didn't start listening until the end, so at first I thought he was talking about his pay. But then I realized it was grades. In Mexico, everything is on a ten point scale (hence the 10 question tests). Basically you want an 8 or above.
As these kids got off the bus, he told them to bring him their repost cards with all tens and he'd give them a free ride forever.
Then, left as the sole passenger, he started talking to me. I was already super annoyed with his super slow driving, so I just nodded and smiled. I laughed where I thought appropriate. I didn't even want to bother getting into the conversation that would ensue if I opened my mouth.
I got off the bus and noticed the kids cleaning the grounds. This is why I wonder what the custodian's job is. It's not uncommon to see them cleaning once a week. Sure, I think children should pick up after themselves, but I don't think they should miss their precious little class time to do it when someone else is getting paid for that.
I signed in and went to my "office," the computer room. It was packed. I had no idea why. I went back to the real office and sat down with all my tests, my gradebook, my purse and backpack. I began grading some tests and recording grades. I look up and who do I see? Maribel. She was early.
She gave me my reimbursement checks that Comexus had sent me from DF. One was in pesos and the other was in dollars. They're from two separate banks, so I will have to deposit the dollar one in the US when I'm home.
We got to work.
The form we had to fill out was long. I had to "average" grades. Good thing I hadn't stressed too much about not giving a test to 4th/5th yet; Maribel asked me how I thought each group was doing on a scale of 1-10, with 8 being the lowest I could give!
So much for what we're doing mattering! The grades are handed out like candy.
Oh, well.
We worked for about an hour and then she left. By then, it was too late to go to my second class of the day that I had already cancelled. I got an enchilada from the lady who sells food and a Coca Light from Victor(first grade-very slow student)'s mom across the street.
I sat with my goods (in the now-empty computer room) and tried to brainstorm some things for my 4th/5th graders. I hadn't officially cancelled them yet, but since Maribel had already come and the testing now seemed pointless, I didn't see much reason to cancel class!
Hernán was on the computer typing something for the principal. I think I stated early on that pretty much everyone plays the US role of secretary at our school. The main players, though are Sandra, Hernán and Martha. The conversation he and I had is too much to go in this entry, so it will follow.
Lety, the 4th grade teacher, had not come to school today. Sandra substituted for her, so I didn't see as much of her as I usually do (given that my "office" is her classroom). Toward the end of recreo, she came in and mentioned something about our meeting in a few minutes.
Hold please.
Meeting?
She now knows that she is my only source for information about the school. She spent the next 15 minutes telling me about the meeting we would have at 11 and why we were having it (also too long to post with this entry). She assured me that all the kids would be sent home at 11.
*On a side note- if kids are going home at 11, for the post-recreo classes anyway, why don't they just send them home at the 10:30 bell?! I'm guessing it has something to do with the money the school makes from the woman that sells food. But come on! Our 11:00 meeting didn't start until 11:20. We could've been out of there by then if we'd just cancelled recreo. These kids can play at home!
Needless to say, I was a bit frustrated in this waste of time (and waste of a day).
Again, oh well.
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