facts & norms

Heads up: i wrote this at midnight, yesturday - sunday evening.. this is 4 hours past my bedtime and i had waken up at 5:45 that morning (which is extra early for me) so i was incredibly tired, and i have not re-read/edited it in the least.  but i remember being 'in the zone' as i was writing, so take what you wish.  oh, we just had a wicked hail storm here, yeah.. in madagascar.  it was neat.  and so heres my entry - hope you enjoy!

Few people may know this, and few people who I think know this probably don’t actually know or remember.  And why I am writing it in here-I have an idea as a prelude, which will most likely turn into a rambling like most of my spiels do.  And so this the beginning, as I write this my soundtrack is Hawksley Workman’s ‘The Delicious Wolves’ and Workman’s ‘lover/fighter’

 

-The song ‘Do You Realize?’ by The Flaming Lips is the most romantic song of all time.  I say this not as opinion, but as fact ; )

 

-Another fact which few of you may be unaware of, is in 1986 Madagascar ‘fell’ (how delicately put…) to the French, and was under French colonization until 1960, and has been an independent country now for almost 48 years.

 

Now here are some things I’d like to note that are neither fact or opinion (although I have a immense difficulty writing anything as a completely impartial piece, and my bias reigns heavy in everything from tiny adjectives to blown out cursing rants so please question that which I have written to find out what exactly it is that you yourself believe on some issues I may raise.. have a good time : )  And SO IT BEGINS:

 

2008, I have heard and no longer react to hearing stories of ‘silly’ lawsuits and as ‘silly’ as they are, they are facts and the reality in which I live; one suing McDonalds over serving coffee too hot, a lesbian couple going to court to try and get themselves a legal ‘recognized’ divorce when only 10 months previously they were fighting for their marriage to be ‘recognized’ in the eyes of the law, etc.  I have become indifferent to the majority of lawsuits I hear and immediately pass judgment on. 

 

I suppose some factors in becoming apathetic to these ‘facts’/situations is it has become the norm for myself as a white, educated, healthy, self-centered woman growing up in a financially stable loving family in the West. 

 

Perhaps for some of you with similar upbringings, the norm may be; at 2AM we leave the bar scene, in a diverse of moods and thoughts and coherencies.. and wind up at one of the many 24 hour mass shopping stores such as Wal-Mart and pour our remaining change into a cheap dvd from their 2 for $10 bin to bring home and fall asleep to.  Perhaps it has become the norm to put the majority of our time into getting the __?__ number of signatures  needed for our petition to keep homosexual marriage illegal.  Or perhaps it has become the norm to spend thousands of dollars on ‘beauty’ (ugh – I use this word ONLY to describe quickly, not because I believe it to be true ‘beauty’) supplies, hair dyes, and surgeries only to crave more.  Or perhaps it has become the norm to spend tens of thousands of dollars, 4 years of our time, and countless social sacrifices to gain a piece of paper that has the word ‘degree’ printed across it, only to realize it is something you/i/we detest and return to school to pursue something that might just quench the thirst within.  Or perhaps it has become the norm to see groups of ‘christians’ picketing at the funerals of our/our neighboring nation’s soldiers. 

 

With all this becoming the norm for myself, I throw up my hands and laugh, for tears do nothing anymore as the more we keep pushing to be come self-sufficient, self-serving individuals, the more idiotic notions will become the ‘norm’ to be judged against man’s version of ‘justice.  I know the power of man’s ‘justice’ has no power over true love, humility, and grace, but this is so far from my natural ‘norm’ I fail more often than not and my own idiotic tendencies blend in with the norms of the majority in our society. 

 

I assume Antananarivo’s society holds a great number of young women who possess similar opinions as I, and although we share different norms, the facts are facts, and quite frequently the two mesh and make my deciphering morals increasingly difficult, I wonder how many are in the same boat.   

 

-In 1810, Radama I (The king of Madagascar) outlawed foreign slave trade, however kept many local people in domestic slavery.  And now we’re back to facts…

 

A little while ago a young girl in my class asked me if my family had slaves in Canada because her family had slaves at their home on the coast (At least this is what I understood from our conversation, my mind was a bit boggled at the time).  I have now been in Madagascar for a little over a month, and although the class system is quite visible, it had not occurred to me that there were slaves as I just assumed slave trade was seen as abominable to every person who lived on the same planet as I.  But I am learning little by little that the slave trade is very much active, more specifically the child sex slave market alike many other countries (side note: Did you know South Africa is trying to legalize prostitution in time for the world cup in 2010… cross your finger guys, we can go watch soccer right after we pick up a 12 year old to bang in a motel 8 and not have to fill guilty about it because its within the law!).  I do not know where the ‘law’ stands on this (back to slave trade now) , and I am not saying it does not occur in my home country, however the facts remain that it is a current issue within this country I have come to know as ‘home’.

 

Another fact in this country I have recently learnt of; I come from a country where it is the norm for individuals who are arrested to be presumed innocent until proven guilty.  This is something I never quite examined, or thought much about, until I was told that in Madagascar people who are arrested are found guilty until proven innocent.  So, you could come here, say that I stole your watch and I would be put in jail possibly for years until somebody could prove that it wasn’t true.

 

It is the year 2008, and I have come to know many ‘facts’ I would rather I had not come to know, and I have come to recognize many norms that are far from norms in other parts of the world.  However, the more facts and norms I learn of, the less I understand.  However, I know a handful of truths in which I am not concerned about the norms or facts in which they fit.  For one cannot possibly argue with absolutes : )  And this is the truth for myself at this point in time:

 

I love the area in which I was born into this world (Winnipeg, Manitoba!), I love hundreds of Canadian citizens some of who I respect and hold in great respect and have helped me out of countless situations my own selfishness and pride has gotten me stuck in.  I adore the part of the Lord, God I have come to learn and encounter in that great land, and I am now also crazy about the part of notre Dieu I am learning about through the people, and this island.  In Canada, or Madagascar, we share the same sky, the same moon, the same God, yet I see different pieces and there is still so much I long to know and revere.  I am thirsty for His presence, and these facts and norms would normally have my heart in shambles but I have an unexplainable peace in knowing that there will be true justice one day, and my only duty is to Simply Love.

 

 

This piece was written with a ton of passion, and a longing to have my dear sister sit by me and hear my rant and roll her beautiful blue eyes, but all the while listening, which I appreciate more than I ever have said. 

 

Peace be with you my friends, family, church,

With love,

Lisa Obirek

Homesick & Homage to Music

I assume many of you reading this may way to yourself ‘Why in the world is she writing this? What does this have to do with being in Madagascar? I want to read stories of mud huts and miracles…’ So let me say I am sorry that you may be disappointed in this post, but ‘Homesickness’ is a very big part of the reality of any foreigner being in a land they do not call ‘home’, and this is a way of my dealing with it.

It is difficult to me to integrate into mostly any social circle where the average age is above 16. Spending the majority of my time with ‘kids’ over the past couple of years whether it be at my last wonderful job (La Barrier Crossings School) or with youth in Landmark. I have grown accustom to being in a position of leadership. I have grown accustomed to being surrounded with children (some of who adore you and do not hesitate in showing you through physical touch or screaming your name until you give them attention). I have grown accustom to choosing my vocabulary carefully to lead to the quickest understanding between a child and myself. My mind is accustom to being constantly challenged in the way I am going to speak, because I want what I speak of to be appealing and challenging to the individual or group BUT always have truth at the forefront of what I speak (I know it can’t always be appealing… but it’s a lot easier to have somebody learn something when they don’t hate the method in which they are being taught). All this being said, I find great comfort and joy from a handful of individuals who are excluded from these beautiful children. I appreciate such persons, and hold them in high esteem. It’s around these friends (including my mother, father and sister) that I can be who I have to realize who I am at this old age of 22 : )

I enjoy ‘stupid’ movies (not like dumb and dumber.. I detest that movie) but Will Ferrell Movies, I love will Ferrell and his humor, it’s immature, sometimes sick, it just makes me laugh so much, also Sasha Baron Cohen (Borat – Kim and I have watched it countless times and every time we laugh. And I tried to watch it with my parents.. but they couldn’t quite see the humor and turned it off), my admiration for this type of humor many of said is evil or twisted, where I see Mr. Sasha Baron Cohen as absolutely brilliant, but would not recommend to kids). AND I enjoy depressing films (but not ‘Dancer in the Dark’ dark.. that just tears at my insides). This is something I am learning more that many people don’t particularily enjoy, and brings me to greater appreciation for my friends back home in Manitoba. I enjoy cheesy fantasy & Sci-fi movies too… like ‘Merlin’ with Kevin Costner : )

Whenever I have music on, I feel better than I did with it not being on. It doesn’t matter if I am eating, listening to a friend, teaching, thinking, I believe there is ALWAYS some type of music that will appeal to that mood (or the mood I desire to be in), or the situation. I enjoy many different types of music, but I enjoy sorrowful music and ‘angry sounding’ music a lot – two of which are not loved by a great number of people. I only say this because its around these few individuals who I love and admire that just understand that and don’t ask me to turn off the music or make fun of me.

At least I have my music. Almost every song on my computer or ipod (Thank you Spence!) holds a very specific memory; whether it be of a person, a place, an idea, or God. Occasionally in an e-mail or blog, I may post my current playlist – because I feel this says a lot about where I am at, at that point in time. This might be quite boring for many of you, but I am thankful that I have somewhere to write this, if for none other than to try and figure out what is going on in my mind and heart.

Now that you know this, here is a playlist for this past week:

Ben Harper – Excuse me Mr.: melodic, a bit ‘sick’ sounding. Its beautiful. ‘excuse me mr, wont you lend me your ear, or are you not only blind, but do you not hear? Is that not your oil in the sea, and pollution air? Excuse me mr, im a ‘mr.’ too…. Cause it’s a ‘mr.’ like you that puts the rest of us to shame.’ I know many wonderful men of all ages who live an admirable life, and I don’t mean the money the make or their careers, but the way they interact with children, how they spend their ‘free time’ (if they have any of it!), how they ‘love’, and I know a great deal of men who I would not hesitate to call pricks and forbid my dear sister to ever have anything to do with any of them.

Elton John – Tiny Dancer: Oh how I simply ADORE this song! I imagine turning into a tiny fairy ballerina and flying above where I am, out in the city or country and just making people happy by being a ballerina fairy. It reminds me of Santa Monica last fall with Kim (Landmark) and Amanda (Regina) and Mercy (Kenya/L.A.)… Walking down Santa Monica Boulevard on our way to find some ‘halloween’ fun in our quick costumes and Mercy screaming at strangers cause that’s how she interpreted Halloween ‘fun’. It was ‘pee your pants’ kind of funny. For some reason this song also reminds me of the Phyllis & Dennis Reimer family – why I’m not too sure; perhaps its that the level of musical talent in that family is astounding… and Elton john’s music blows my mind also : )

Comeback kid – Wake the Dead: ‘You said, you said, you said, this time was gonna be different. Wake! Up! The! Dead! Stop living under the weight of your regrets’ I am listening to this song right now, it’s a good Saturday morning song, makes me ready to ‘take on the day’. It reminds me of many people, and many situations.

Jorane – Priere: One French lady with her cello. It is sullen, peaceful, sorrowful, cry to God to be here please, to please be here. That’s my interpretation. I don’t know if there are any words or just vocal sounds, I think just vocal sounds, but it’s beautiful.

Nicole C. Mullins – When I call on Jesus: The epic sounding beginning is something that makes me ‘chuckle’ but then it stops and goes into a message full of hope, not to mention this lady has a beautiful voice. It makes me feel like a beautiful lady: ) “I’m so very ordinary, nothing very special on my own. Oh I have never walked on water and I have never calmed a storm. Sometimes im hiding away from the madness around me like a child whose afraid of the dark but when I call on Jesus all things are possible, I can mount on eagles and soar...”

The Unseen Guest – Listen My Son: If any of you are a fan of Blues, I highly suggest you find this song and listen to it. It’s chill, it soothes my soul, and makes me feel good at whatever place I’m in, I feel human and just that.

Tupac & Elton John – Ghetto Gospel: I could write all of the lyrics in this piece because they are just THAT good, but I’ll only post part on it, but I would encourage you that if you look into any of these songs… check out this one. “I make mistakes, I learn from every one and when it’s said it done, I bet this brother be a better one. If I upset you, don’t stress… Never forget, that God hasn’t finished with me yet. I feel his hand on my brain, when I write rhymes I go blind and let the Lord do His thing. But am I less holy, cause I choose to puff a blunt and drink a beer with my homies? Before we find world peace, we gotta find peace in the war on the streets…My Ghetto Gospel.” I think every church should take this song and plan an entire service around it, I am serious. I have many ideas. The image of Tupac and Elton John at a church pulpit preaching this song, ah what a service that could be. I think this is one of my top 5 favorite songs of all time, it’s just that good.

The classrooms at Vision Valley School do not have walls that go all the way up to the ceiling, and the roof is tin, so sound travels far. For this reason I do not play music very often, and when I do, it is very quiet. The music is a treat for the kids, and if there is even ONE sound in the classroom, the music gets turned off. I am serious about it, so the kids are absolutely silent when the music is on (sometimes it’s a really nice break). HOWEVER, every time Timbaland & One Republic’s ‘Apologize’ I begin to hear a very quite humming, and then it builds up to the chorus and the entire class is singing in their cute accented English ‘ITS TOO LATE TO APOLOGIZE’, I pretend I don’t hear... but its so loud I am SURE the classrooms surrounding me are listening to the grade 4’s covering Timbaland : )

This week:

-It has been a wonderful week of school. I am getting to know my students and some of their families a little bit more.

-I am learning to accept this slow procedure of getting organized in the classroom and planning, so I don’t feel AS lost in this ‘position’ : )

-We are almost finished our African Dance Masks! Hopefully to be done this week, and I will post pictures.

-I cut my hair really short. It wasn’t totally spontaneous (I had been thinking about it since I arrived when I realized we had a bathtub but now shower and I’d need to wash my curly longish hair either in the bathtub or the sink). But I just got sick of the dirt stuck in my hair so I chopped it all off a couple of days ago. My mum and I probably look like twins now : )

-I am kind of under ‘house arrest’… problems with my visa, but I won’t write about it on the Internet. If you have questions, feel free to email.

-Not that I have a super exciting life outside of the house, but I actually haven’t been out of the house other than to go to school. So all of this weeks happenings have occurred in only one or the other… if you’re wondering why this all sounds quite ‘boring’.

-Yesterday Georgina stayed home with me (Usually they go out on Friday nights into town to go to the Analakeyli market and then go for supper). But Georgina stayed with me at home (yay!) and we made pizza, salad, and drank $3 wine – yum.

-I made some ‘art projects’ with chalk and permanent markers and watercolor

-I stuck some keychains through my ears. (You may be able to tell I was beginning to feel a bit useless and unproductive some days, and so I figured what better way to be useful and productive than to stick keychains through my ears. It was not an easy task). Honestly though, I had time to do more planning and organizing for school, and that is good/needed.

I am one tiny puzzle piece, and this little piece right now is learning a whole whack load of humility.

Chapter 1 - short stories and other nick nacks

September 11^th has come and gone, but I have a lull of sadness hanging over my heart – I would think being so far from home, and actually so far from NY at the time of the towers collapsing it wouldn’t keep coming up in my mind.  But this year, more so than in the past, perhaps it is because I can’t flip on the television and see some kind of tribute to the thousands of people who died on that day.  I hurt for you New York.

 

The following is a collaboration of my very own true short stories, thus beginning Chapter One of Lisa’s Short Story Collaboration.  Please feel free to skim, jump, joke, jolt (!?) at your convenience.  Please note, the stories appear in chronological order, and only seem to decrease in positives as they go on, but I am confident there are many more countless joys to be had.

 

Yours truly,

Lisa Obirek

 

Stupid Camera.

 

As many of you may know, I own a digital Kodak camera, I have had it for about three years – it is a wonderful camera when it works, however, the amount of times I have gone for it to use it and it NOT turning on, far exceeds the number of times it has been able to work when I want to use it.  No matter what batteries, how charged, or brand new it is.. it really doesn’t matter, it has a mind of it’s own : (  Fortunately, I am not a person who feels the desire to document my daily events with photographs.  However, there are the odd times when I would like to do a project, or I want to take photos of somebody that I love who I might see for a long time – that is when I want to use a camera.  And all this ‘jibber jabber’ (kudos to the judge in Boston Legal Season 2… my new favorite (and only) show thanks to Josh, the internet, and my laptop) simply introduces my first short story: 

 

The first week of school I told the kids I would be taking photos of them individually – one nice one, and one goofy one, so they had to practice their faces.  Well school began on a Wednesday, and on Wednesday my camera decided that all throughout the day it really didn’t want to work.  On Thursday, my camera decided that all throughout the day it didn’t want to work (Even though it had brand new batteries, and I had brought along brand new fully charged batteries.. just in case).  On Friday I just decided ‘well, we are going to go outside.. and this camera IS going to work, it’s GOT to.’.. and it didn’t.  The kids were all lined up all 16 of them (2 were missing), with their goofy faces ready, laughing and jibber-jabbering.  And no matter what we did the camera just was NOT going to work.  So I said ‘guys, lets pray for this camera, that it would stop being stupid, so that we can take photos of one another’.  We then all got around the camera (some of them thinking this is the funniest thing in the world.. praying for a camera to work?!?) and a handful of kids and myself prayed out loud that God would please let this camera work so we could do this project together.  And then, the camera turned on.

 

I heard one of the kids say it was a miracle. 

Sweet.

 

 

Convulsing Pig

 

One of my days walking to school, I was ‘in the zone’, and not paying much attention to anyone or anything around me.  Here in Antananarivo, the roads are very narrow, and at the sides of the road they have a straight trough/ditch about a foot and a half wide, and about 4 feet deep (I think.. I’ve never seen the bottom – so I don’t actually know) , it is full of garbage, pee, sewage, etc Well I was walking near the side of one of those ditches, and I could tell (with my ‘thank you God’ peripheral vision) that one of those little carts pulled by a man was coming up beside me, quite close, so I just put my hand on the cart as he jogged past, but to my surprise all of a sudden I was not touching slivers of wood on the side of the card, but rather something kind of hairy… so I looked and there was the biggest pig I’ve ever seen!  Not only was this Pig HUGE, but he was convulsing, and shaking, and stuff was going out of this mouth, and out of his butt.  I was so grossed out and shocked and forget where I was and almost fell into the sewage trough (man, what a sight that would have been.. one of the funny white girls beside a convulsing pig, waist deep in sewage).  Last scene of the story:  I was stratteling the trough, and the 3 Malagasy men with the cart got a good laugh, with the pig still convulsing and it’s innards coming out every which way.  I will no longer eat pork, no matter where I am in the world. 

 

 

Grabage Truck

 

My foot was run over by a garbage truck.  I am fine.

 

 

The One that Almost Got Away

 

The Grade 4 class at Vision Valley is doing their first term theme of Africa, meaning geography, history, health, etc. (… anything I desire to put into a curriculum reflecting Africa in one way or another). Wednesday, Periods 3 and 4, I teach grade 4 Art.  Every project we have begun so far in THEME has been a piece of the puzzle that we will be able to enjoy at the end of the term which will conclude with a big grade 4 African party, which will consist of day of African animal presentations, traditional dance (Reflecting of the Zulu tribe dances.. and then some ‘free dance) with our African masks, African food, African geography test : )   After our loads of African English story comprehension tests, work sheets, and research.. this should be all quite refreshing.  One of the things to prepare for this day is to create our African masks out of paper mache, balloons, cardboard, home made flour paint, dye, and fabric (Realistically, I believe it will take about 6 double period Art lessons to complete this project).  Anyhow, the first class I brought 24 balloons, the kids each had one balloons to do their paper mache with, some of the balloons popped.. many of the balloons popped.  We ran out of balloons, one of the kids said ‘Ms Lisa, lets ask God to put a balloon in your pocket’ – we did.. then I pulled out my pockets, and there was a balloon in one of them (I think I maybe just put it in there not thinking) – but my oh my was there ever a lot of rejoicing!  But then… another balloon popped, and I was super frustrated cause we had no balloons left, then the kids were like ‘ms lisa ms lisa lets just ask God to put another balloon in our pockets!’.. and I thought ah, this is just getting silly, but I said ‘okay’ but said that I couldn’t pray (cause I didn’t really believe it)… after that all the kids looked in their pockets… and nothing.  A couple of minutes went by, and out of nowhere I just got really excited and asked Filamatra (super tiny, super funny, kind of eccentric, beautiful Malagasy kid) to check his pockets.. and to the amazement of him AND myself.. he pulled out a yellow balloon : )  AHH we were all so happy, everything was going wonderful – we were getting all messy with glue goop outside on a gorgeous day.  However, near the end of the day Anna’s balloon blew up and over the high brick wall.  (Anna is a witty, a bit of a perfectionist, very sweet,l beautiful Chinese girl).  I sighed, and we were all devasted, seriously, the kids just stopped doing anything.. but then, I ran (I have an awkward run).. I ran as fast as I could, Anna followed me, I ran all the way around to the opening in the wall and back around to where the balloon floated over the wall, I ran across the soccer field, and I saw the balloon high in the air and I ran like my life depended on it.  Slowly, the balloon, began to come down, and nestled into a bush of thorns, where it stayed in one piece.  I carefully picked up and handed it to Anna, we were so happy.  We walked for 5 minutes back to the places were the kids were inside the school compound.  We wanted to try and play a trick on them and pretend like we didn’t find it – but we couldn’t keep the grins off of our faces, and the kids were so happy they jumped and shouted, and we all hugged – it was funny and a great day.  I know it shouldn’t be about me, but I felt like such a hero.

 

 

Bloody French fence!

 

One of the expectations of myself and the other teachers on behalf of the ‘leadership’ at Vision Valley School is to arrive at 7:30AM (or before) as classes begin promptly at 7:50 and they like to open up in prayer and get a few announcements out there.  I joyfully abide by this rule 100% of the time even though I would not consider myself to be a ‘morning person’ by any stretch of the imagination.  However, a few days back I woke up in a bed of sweat even before my alarm went off at 6AM.  I lay there with my cup of hot tea in my hot bed and could hear the girls getting up and ready for the day that lay ahead.  I felt like cursing any being I might come into contact with, and this was a moment that I might even dare say was a God forsaken morning.  I felt ugly, bitter, angry, tired, frustrated.  I do not know why (I am definitely not pregnant).  I didn’t want to leave my room because I knew I would be far from pleasant with whichever room mate I’d have encountered first.  Consequently.. I stayed in my bed almost the whole morning, until I heard the jingle of the keys and they said they’d be going, and I yelled ‘okay’… I just waited a few minutes and then I was prepared to go out and walk the 15ish minute walk to school alone.  However, with my bag packed, and sandals ready to go, I could not find my keys, and for our house you need the keys to get in, AND out of the house, because you lock the big gate from the outside as well as the inside with a key-  after tearing apart my very clean room (honestly always clean.. just cause I’m terrified of rats or some kind of insect infestation otherwise) and my bag and looking everywhere I could possibly think of, I gave up on trying to find my keys.  So I thought I would just phone one of the girls and ask them to come back and unlock me from my house, but ALAS.. I had no ‘talk time’ so I was unable to make any calls or txts at all.  I began to mildly panic.. how long would it be until somebody came to look for me?  What would happen with my class?  I decided I would figure out a way to hop the fence.  Now I live in a house made out of cement and bricks.  I have a wall/fence around my house made off concrete, and on some parts of the fence there are pieces of broken glass on the top, and on other parts there are spears of iron pointing high into the sky (not that this prohibits people from coming into a garage and stealing various items of clothing that are drying in there).  The lowest part in the fence/wall is about 6 feet from the inside, and about 12 feet from the outside.. I figured it was my best bet… even if I suffered a broken ankle, I figured it’d be a great adventure and I was all of a sudden very excited at this idea.  So I went inside to get changed, and put on my man cargo pants that are far too big for me but I feel tough in them, and a tank top.  I wove my arms in my windmills, and I raced toward the fence.  I grabbed the iron bars and pulled myself along with my sad attempt at a ‘running start’ up the wall (Lisa… climbing a wall?  ... Lisa climbing anything?)  I got to stand at the top, but only for a few seconds until my foot slipped and my face came falling down onto one of the spikes and I impaled my chin.  I was stunned, my teeth started chattering, and I felt the blood running.  I don’t really know what happened next, my hands were bloody and I couldn’t really see what the extent of the damage was cause there was just a bunch of blood on my face.  I was not excited anymore.  I sat on my bed with my bloody tissues not doing anything, not thinking anything, hoping to avoid the tears of self-pity.  So, I did what I usually do when I realize I need to quit trying to be so self-reliant, I prayed.  Within 5 seconds, Sarah ran back into the house (this is about 15 minutes after she left).  She shouted in between trying to catch her breath “YOU DON’T HAVE YOUR KEYS!”  And I left with her to school.  Apparently Georgina (other room-mate) had just said out of nowhere ‘Lisa doesn’t have any keys’.. now nobody knew this – I think God told her.  And I made it school, with a bleeding chin, a broken ego, and a horrible attitude (I blame the incident entirely on the French who decided to colonize Madagascar way back when, and it’s because of them that the foreigners live in houses with spikey fences out of fear of the people’s land and culture they took over… this is a funny joke, I hope it may bring a smile to your face).  And thus began the day of the ‘Je Comprends Pas’ tears.

 

 

‘Je Comprends Pas’ tears

 

Wednesday was a pretty brutal day.  I was impatient, it began in the morning, and just escalated.  There is one child on the class who I am 99% sure has ADHD, and he’s a really sweet kid, and everything he does is so dramatic, and bold, and in your face.. and it’s usually just really funny, but he was trying to run up the walls and just moving so much it made me nauseous.  I felt like I couldn’t help anyone to understand.  I felt like I ran out of ideas, and nobody understood anything I was trying to say.  They didn’t understand ‘rounding off’, and tried everything I could find in ‘the books’, all the different teaching methods to go along with the seven different ways people learn.  I also had an extra long day, because I don’t have any prep/spare periods because I teach grade 8 a double period of art that day (we’re doing inner self portrait right now).  And also I do extra lessons after classes are done – and with 3 kids – it took us a whole hour to discuss  3 pages of a 15 pages story…  it seems that they didn’t understand a thing, and I felt like I was just telling them the story over again pretty much sentence by sentence, deciphering the meaning of every third word.  It seems hopeless.  I also have a student in the class who knows about 5 English words (everything else is in French or Malagasy), and so that makes every single subject such a huge issue, she just stares at me blankly, and you may be asking why don’t I just translate for her – well I’ve been reading quite a lot of literature on ‘teaching English as a second language’ and it seems as if when you speak in their tongue, it takes more than double as long for them to learn English : (   Also, I just don’t have time to make up special lessons while the rest of the kids are doing the standard grade 4 English work.  How many kids just say ‘Je comprends pas’, or ‘I don’t understand’.. it makes me want to ‘lash out irrationally’ (kudos to Tim Allen’s ‘The Santa Clause’).  To top it all off I am still horribly unorganized, and am really planning one day at a time, and have struggling with getting it together and putting together a curriculum with the resources at my fingertips.  Sarah came in to ask me how my day was, and I just cried.  My day sucked.

 

Thursday was a new day, and went much better.

Friday was a fresh day, and went even better.

 

 

That’s it for stories!  Here’s about my life on a different note.  Ahh, I’m making this all about me – please feel free to e-mail me, I love to hear whats happening in your lives.

 

 

Soundtrack for the week:

God is a DJ - Faithless

Angel without Wings – Slick Shoes

Here with Me – Dido & Enya

Pure Moods – Enya X-Celtic

Breathe Me – Sia

What I Got – Sublime

Apologize – Timbaland & One Republic (The kids get to listen to that one when they’re REALLY quiet.. but then as soon as the course comes on they belt it out .. )

A bunch of Tchaikovsky & Schubert (We listen to it during math)

 

Constant thought of the week:

‘soulmates’?  (… I’ve heard some pretty incredible stories lately)

 

Missing this week:

Saturday Night Church.

I love Vision Valley Church, and last week we had a Family Day, and normally I would have loved it, but I found myself hiding out in the back where nobody would find me where I cold be alone and read and write and think.  I miss my church, I miss the genuine greetings from people that I know, I miss Kiah, Jesse, Kelly, Walker, EEEvon, Aaron, Josh, and a whole slew of people whose awesomeness far exceeds any words I could put on here..  I miss the ongoing jokes about Diesel and I getting married.  I miss Jenny, Robyn, and Cyndy.  I miss Les’s hugs.  I miss Mashawn (and is rad hair) and Joe playing with the kids after church.  I miss seeing Gil standing at the back of the church, with a good high five.  I miss Sean’s band’s music.  I miss having close to NO idea how the service would look from week to week, I love the diversity, and I miss that a whole lot.  I miss feeling like I was part of something that was truly acting out what we literally preached.  I miss my home church.  The frustrations & challenges, and the countless joys & encouragers - I miss Saturday Night Church.  Writing this down, I think I am realizing that SNC may be the one thing (other than to my family) have actually made a commitment to (ahhh, I think I’m growing up!).

 

New This Week in Tana: 

-The Raining has begun, and the mosquitos are out.

-I am battling an on again off again fever, yesterday I changed shirts 4 times because I sweat so much (even though it’s still not that warm here). 

-I began a Beth Moore Bible Study, something about the “Fruits of the Spirit”, this is a new experience for me, and I am quite out of my comfort zone.

-I met a passionate U.S. REPUBLICAN.

 

Craving:

-a GOOD film

-acai protein smoothie from booster juice

-green spring onions – I don’t know why, maybe it’s the fever.

not much substance

Monday:

I am at Jocelyn's house, Josh is in South Africa.  Georgina, Sarah, Colleen are here as well... we are all on a computer (woohoo wireless internet!!)  

Last week was the first full week of school.  I was overwhelmed, stressed out, unorganized, a mess, i was a mess, but smiled all day long.  

I really enjoy getting to know my kids, all 18 of them... so funny, oh my goodness are they funny!  this morning we had a sharing circle, it was wonderful.  

there is one boy in the class, a bit of an odd kid, just breaks out in dance everynow and then, for no reason.  i'm not sure how to respond; laugh?  tell him to sit down?  ignore?  

every time, i am just so i don't even know.. i just love it, i just smile and let him dance.  yet, i don't have an issue with discipline, cause i just speak very quietly to the kid infront of everybody and tell him/her that they are being very rude, and they need to stop.. and that's really it, if it continues, i just tell them to get out of the class and give them a pile of work.  it seems to work so far.

i began extra lessons today, after school for a handful of students.  it makes for a very long day.  i am also the art teacher for a couple of grades (double periods each time).. so that takes away from my 'prep/spare' periods, which is fine.. it just makes for a long day thats all.  it's relaxing for me to do art - i just end up having lots to do afterwards (like correcting and preparing and things).

i enjoy hanging out with kids... more than 'teaching' a big group such a broad range of things.  I truly miss faith-o-rama, and i truly miss flatland.  i miss some individuals in those groups, i miss that feeling of being able to hang out with somebody without being in a position of authority.  i hope being a 'teacher' doesn't 'taint' that part of me that is able to do that.  

supper is ready, this isn't a very inspiring writing hey?  sorry, i actually haven't made the time to write something throughout this past week/weekend, but i will make it a priority in the next couple of days so that i can have something of more substance.

i am learning alot.  

'i am with you and will watch over you wherever you go' - genisis 28:15