March Storm

In March, I flew to Alberta to spend a week at the farm doing as much nothing as is humanly possible. I had two weeks off for Spring Break, and decided that if Paul could fend for himself, this would be a wise way for me to spend part of it. Not having a "real" break at Christmas took its toll on my health and it was so good to just be home.

My mom was excited that I was coming in March because the roads would be so good. Well, as dictated by Murphy's Law, I was there for The Big Snow of the Winter. The snow didn't interfere much with driving over secondary highways to visit old friends, but driving from the farm to the airport for my flight home was a big adventure!

We left the farm at 8:30 and just as we were nearing the end of highway 43 and the beginning of highway 16, we must have hit ice. Mom is a great driver, and after a couple of 360s and no one hitting us, we ended up in the ditch. Someone stopped to help, but we were able to get out using 4-wheel-drive.

Cautiously, we continued on our way. Then, on the road between Devon and the airport, in equally wretched driving conditions, a semi with two trailers attempted to pass us on a blind uphill, then pulled back into our lane because of oncoming traffic - only he hadn't passed us... So, we were run off the road (the other option was to be killed instantly, but I guess God still has plans for us both here on earth). This time it was a bit trickier, but another good Samaritan helped us get out with 4-wheel-drive. No damage to Mom's truck or us...!

Never have I felt so safe in the air!!! And thankfully Mom had a safe and uneventful trip home again.

Hollywood from a Korean Perspective

Each week, my students journal for me. The journals are between me and the student, and I don't mark grammar, spelling, etc. I look forward to journal day, as there is always something funny in and amongst love-struck girls, or stress-related depression... both of which I take seriously, incidentally.

Tonight, as I marked, I grieved with a student who just lost her grandfather to cancer. I was embarrassed for a student who is woefully in love with a boy who will likely never think twice about her as anything more than a friend. I felt the pain of each student who described their personal injuries after yesterday's time on Cypress Mountain.

However, one entry from one student made me cry with laughter. Without mentioning any names that you wouldn't read in the tabloids, I now give you Hollywood Re-invented... (unedited - my comments in blue)

"There are lots of Hollywood actresses who would have never been famous in Korea if they were Korean. If they want to be famous, they should have perfect big eyes, really sharp nose, very ovalish face, super skinny and not weird lips. If Nicole Kidman was Korean, she wouldn't have been popular because she has so strong charisma and Koreans like pure type attractions. Cameron Diaz too because she has so big mouth. Hilary Duff has to lose weight (yikes! I think she looks anorexic!!) and same as Jennifer Lopez. She has to make her face ovalish too. Uma Thurman will never be famous as a Korean because she's not very pretty and Catherine Zeta-Jones and Brittany Spears have to lose weight. Keira Knightly should make her chin slender and same as Penelope Cruz. Scarlett Johansson should do something with her nose because it isn't sharp enough and Lindsay Lohan should erase all her freckles. Jessica Simpson should make her chin slender and same as Natalie Portman. Angelina Jolie should do something with her lips and chin. Jessica Alba should make her nose sharper and Paris Hilton should cut her chin bone off and make it slender. Same as Brad Pitt (lucky him, to be lumped in with the ladies..). This is why Koreans are crazy about plastic surgery. We never let people relax about their outlook and think it's beautiful. Everything should be perfect. Roundish-low nose or squarish chin is never allowed to Korean actress or actor. It's so strange. I hate it!"

I left her personal comments at the end, because what makes this journal entry so wonderful is this girl has a depth of thinking that goes well beyond most girls her age. This was, by the way, part 2 of her self-imposed evaluation of cultural norms in what constitutes "attractive."

Now... I have another 15 journals upstairs waiting to be marked!

These Old Bones

Let's see... 14 days since I last blogged... Representative of the busy-ness of those 2 weeks!

In that time (in no particular order), my students finished their semester-final exams, I turned 40, and a new student arrived from Brazil. Her first language is Portuguese, which means that the only language she has in common with the rest of my Grade 10 class is English.

Second semester is now well underway, and I have decided to tackle Othello at an ESL level with my grade 10 class. I plan to attempt Shakespeare with my higher level grade 9 class in the next couple of months - Romeo and Juliet. The English Department at Pacific Academy would like the kids who come through the International Program to be better equipped for their grade 11 and 12 studies, and this is one step I am taking to ensure that this happens. I think the kids are enjoying Othello, so far. There is enough intrigue and romance to pique their interest.

Today, we had a bit of a semester break with the International Students, plus a student who just moved here from Germany to complete grade 12. We drove up to Cypress Mountain in North Vancouver. I am an avid cross-country skier, but the last time I downhill skied was no later than 1989. For those of you that aren't very good at Math, that's 17 years ago.

On Saturday, I made a foray into Coast Mountain Sports to gather up the bits and pieces of gear I needed: a good pair of ski pants, ski gloves, and a toque - the kind with the little braids that hang beside your face with tassels on the end. I did this with strategy: If I was going to make a complete ass of myself, it would be better to look good while doing so.

All the ski rentals and lessons were arranged for us ahead of time, and I originally signed up for the beginner lessons. However, when we got up to the mountain, the beginner classes for both skiing and snowboarding were full of our students, with only a couple planning to take intermediate. Some of my students have skied or snowboarded before, but for most this was their first time. Everyone seemed to have a good time, and there were no major injuries.

Since I am technically not a beginner, I joined one of the other staff members, and two students in the intermediate ski class. The instructor was very patient, and took us halfway up the mountain for the first "warm-up" run. He welcomed me into the class since I clearly knew how to stop, turn and snowplow - although with no grace, whatsoever!

Downhill skiing is apparently much like riding a bike - once you've learned you never forget. So, once the lessons were finished, we went right to the top, enjoying amazing vistas of the Pacific Ocean over the peaks. There were a couple of nice, long, gentle ski runs.... the kind where you can let your mind wander as you drink in the surrounding beauty... until an inexperienced group of snowboarders interrupts your reverie... I only had one major wipeout, directly related to an icy patch, and several minor wipeouts. All in all, a thoroughly enjoyable day.

And now, I am paying for it. My 40 year old body isn't as resilient as my 23 year old body was! I jumped into a hot bath as soon as I got home, but I'm pretty sure that getting out of bed tomorrow may be a bit painful.

Gifts and Bribes?

Over the years, I have received gifts from my students. I have been told that in the ESL world bribes are sometimes offered, but I have yet to be given anything I would consider to be a bribe.

Occasionally, the gifts have some cultural significance. For example, I was given a box of individually wrapped packets of honey-coated, Korean ginseng shortly after we were married. I have also received gifts of Chinese tea, Korean green tea and barley tea. Over the years, I have shared delicious Korean meals with students, and have received offerings of kimchi, which I like, but Paul can't get past the smell. It's the Korean answer to sauerkraut, only I don't like sauerkraut.

As well, I have received gift certificates to typical places such as Chapters or Starbucks, and one not-so-conventional-but-practical gift certificate to Safeway. Gift certificates are something that I am known to give, as well. They are less boring and more personal than giving money. They show that you have put at least some thought into the consumer interests of the recipient. And, of course, they still leave freedom for the giftee to choose exactly what he or she wants or needs.

However, I have received gifts from students that aren't what I (in my cultural mind set) consider to be conventional student-to-teacher gifts. Things such as a hand towel or a chamois (is my bathroom that bad?!) have been offered. On a few occasions I have been given socks (apparently from a famous Korean hosier). A comment on my summer-barefoot-in-sandals attire? Last week, I was given a bottle of very expensive perfume. A comment on body odour? Today I received a package of facial skin care products. I rarely wear makeup, but is my complexion really so terrible?

All this I say with tongue in cheek, as although I often raise an internal eyebrow upon opening each gift, it is, as they say, the thought that counts.

However, today's gift was issued within a half hour of all my students writing their 2-3 hour exam week English term finals.... Bribe or gift? The student received 98% on his exam of his own volition.... Really....

Pool People

I spent a great deal of time this weekend marking exams and assignments. Although it is tedious work, there are always moments of humour.

One of my boys wrote about his aspirations for the future. Being only 13 years old, these are many and varied. The list included things like fireman, engineer, millionaire, and so on. However, in spite of a definite yearning for great wealth, he generously stated, "I want to help pool people."

He meant, of course, "poor people."

In an earlier blog, I talked about some typical Korean mispronunciation of English. English has both "r" and "l." The "l" has two pronunciations. One is alveolar, which means it is pronounced in the area of the ridge behind the top, front teeth. The other is velar, or what is commonly known in linguistic circles as "dark l." Native Canadian English speakers pronounce the velar "l" at end of a word, and the alveolar "l" when the sound falls at the beginning or in the middle of a word.

Korean has a version of "l" that is very different from either of our pronunciations, and a version of "r" as well that is very different from our rhotacized "r." As well, Korean speakers seem to be unable to distinguish between "l" and "r." I have heard "lettuce" pronounced as "rettuce," for example.

One of the funniest l/r stories I have heard relates to a friend of ours. When Lane was a little boy, his father was doing a doctorate at Leiden University in Holland. They lived in an apartment, and Lane and his brother used to play with the Korean children who lived in a neighbouring building. The Korean kids would buzz Lane's apartment to ask if the boys could come out to "pray." Lane was born into a missionary family, but even so, "playing" was much more to his taste than "praying" during his free time.

As you go through the week ahead, don't forget all the pool people out there!

Sable Island meets Urban BC

Another large box arrived on our doorstep last evening containing more Johnny West paraphernalia. This box held the remnants of Paul's original collection, including the Canadian editions of Johnny West and Geronimo.

When I walked into our living room this morning, a herd of horses pranced across the fireplace hearth. A veritable Sable Island of our very own...

The Canadian Johnny West looks like the American Johnny West, only his skin is a bit darker. Ironic, given the extreme winters of the Canadian prairies, versus the sunny warmth of the southern American west.

The Canadian Geronimo I have dubbed Gayronimo. He is fluorescent green and his accessories are teal, with a yellow headband. This is reminiscent of the horribly funny movie, "Zorro, the Gay Blade." This is terribly politically incorrect again, I am sure, but I freely confess no adherence to politically correct trends.

How!

Gung hay fat choy

For those in the know, the above is Cantonese, and not Mandarin, the first language of my Taiwanese students. Nevertheless, today we celebrated Chinese New Year, or in Korea, the Lunar New Year. 2006 is the Year of the Dog. I was born in a Year of the Horse, and Paul was born in the Year of the Pig. The phrases, "Were you born in a barn?" or "You're room is a pigsty," come to mind. I digress.

On the last Friday of each month, we have a special lunch in my classroom to celebrate the students' birthdays that fall during in that month. Today's was a combination celebration, as all my students traditionally celebrate the lunar new year.

Red and gold paper lanterns hang from the ceiling in my classroom, and a red decoration hangs down onto my whiteboard. Both windows on the doors are covered in Chinese paper cutouts. It is all very festive.

I spent my two hour prep block today making place cards, and determining who should sit where. We invited our 16 visiting Korean students, 6 of whom have been sitting in on my lower level class. I partnered those six with students from that class, then arranged the students from my other two classes and spread out the remaining visiting students and teachers. By the time I was finished, and some of the boys had been requisitioned to move furniture around, we had seating for 52 people.

The mezzanine of the library, to which I have access through a secret door in my classroom, became the buffet. The tables were heaped with Chinese food.

As the students came in, we sent them through the buffet line before directing them to their seats. My students always grumble and gripe about not being able to sit with their friends, and then have an enjoyable time, in spite of themselves, meeting new friends. We asked them to find out two things about someone at their table they had not met before. As they introduced their new friends, there was a great deal of laughter as names were mispronounced, or words were misunderstood.

The three students who celebrated birthdays in January came to the front of the room where they received the traditional cards, barely legible with cartoons scrawled around good wishes, signed by every student in the ESL program. Each one also received a CD as a gift. Our co-ordinator keeps track of which students have received which CD's over the years, so there are no repeats. We sang a communal 'Happy Birthday,' then ate chocolate birthday cake and fortune cookies.

Incidentally, fortune cookies were invented in the United States. You can't get them in Asia.

After the Birthday tradition, we moved on to the New Year tradition in which the elders give red envelopes of money to the young people. One of the Taiwanese students demonstrated the bow she would need to do to respectfully receive her gift. It was a low bow, from the waist, head bowed and arms outstretched. The one of the Korean boys demonstrated his bow. He kneeled on the floor and bowed forward with his head down and arms stretched out in front of him, almost fully prostrate. Each student, visitors too, received an envelope with a toonie, and a few lucky students received two toonies.

Thankfully, there is only one class block after lunch. Students full of good food and winding down from an hour of fun have a tough time focusing.

I love our Friday lunches! For those of you in the Asian community, "Gung hay fat choy!"

Farting Skunks

The first semester ends on Friday, which translated from teacherese means high volumes of work resulting in high volumes of stress. In spite of that fact, I am sincere in saying that it is well worth it!

Today, I was marking worksheets from Chapter 6 of Owls in the Family. The chapter not only describes Billy and his friends entering the owls and their other various and assorted pets into the T. Eaton parade in Saskatoon, but also describes Wol's interactions with a skunk.

Owls are, apparently, the only raptors (only predators?) who will eat skunk. Billy and his parents are enjoying a meal, when Wol kindly brings them a dead, pungent skunk as some sort of owl offering. They, naturally, are not pleased, and Wol needed to take a tomato juice bath.

On the worksheet, the students had to comment on what certain quotes meant. The quote in question stated, "...he did what skunks always do when they get scared" (p. 62). One student suggested that this meant "He farted when he got scared."

Although I found this to be extremely funny, I have to be fair. If you are not educated in the ways of wildlife, and do not know (in any language) that skunks spray their odour, and do not in fact fart it, then it is an innocent and logical assumption. However, it would have been more delicate to suggest that the skunk "passed wind" when he got scared, or some other polite euphemism.

As an aside, the Frontier on the Fireplace is growing. It now includes Johnny West, Chief Cherokee, Geronimo, a palamino horse, a pinto horse, Johnny's dog Flick and all the accessories. Johnny West is sitting beside Chief Cherokee and both have their feet dangling over the mantel. Flick the dog is faithfully carrying Johnny's cowboy hat. Johnny is drinking a cup of coffee, and his coffee pot rests beside him. Chief Cherokee is puffing on a peace pipe. Home on the Range....

Indians on the Fireplace

I suppose that in keeping with current politically correct trends, my title should read, "First Nations on the Fireplace." I'm not much good at keeping up to societal norms, which seem to change with the wind.

When Paul was a boy, his favourite toy was Johnny West, and all his Johnny West collection friends. This year for Christmas, Paul's three older brothers thought it would be great fun to package his old Johnny West doll and put it under the tree. Paul was really pleased, and has since taken to hanging out on e-bay trying to track down bits and pieces of his Johnny West set that were damaged by his nephews when they were little boys.

Late last week, two new Johnny West dolls arrived; one via UPS and the other via Canada Post. Geronimo stands, sits, or lies in the centre of our fireplace mantel, below an Albertan prairie landscape with the foothills in the background. Sometimes he is apparently sleeping, other times he is smoking his peace pipe. Paul's imagination has not waned with age.

Today, Geronimo was joined by Chief Cherokee and Johnny West's German shephard named Flick. I am making up none of these names. They are the true, Johnny West collection names.

I can tell the difference between Geronimo and Chief Cherokee, because Geronimos "clothes" are lighter. In fact, they are just a different colour from the rest of the molded doll, and cannot be removed. However, peace pipes, headdresses, and other bits and plastic pieces can be changed any time Paul feels a whimsical urge to do so.

And so, these two First Nations friends live together in harmony under the prairie sky on top of our fireplace.

The Plant That Will Not Die

Today, after spending the morning marking and creating lesson plans for next week, Paul and I went into Langley in search of a plant stand. At last, four shops later, we found the perfect stand. It is three shelves of wrought iron and fits perfectly into a corner in our kitchen. Until now, our plants had their home on our old kitchen table.

All but two of our plants have been rescued from gift pots containing several varieties. I know that my ivy is, well, ivy. I rooted it from my wedding bouquet. I also know what an African violet is, and they seem to do very well under my regime of neglect. Of the others, there is a kalanchoe and, I think, a cyclamen, but the rest are mysteries to me.

One of the mystery plants simply won't die. New leaves continually sprout, as the stem grows longer, and old leaves drop off. At any given time, it only has about 6 leaves up at the top. But this plant will not die. Many times, I have tried to throw it away, but Paul feels that we have to honour its tenacity.

After Christmas, I cut four leaves off the top, and put them in rooting powder. They seem to be doing very well. However, the left over 2 foot stick, sprouted more tiny leaves at the top. Again, the plant refused to die. Today, I cut about 3 inches off the top of the stick, baby leaves and all, and replanted it with rooting powder. As a final tribute to the plant, I cut off the 2 foot stick, but left about 2 inches sticking out of the soil. I'm fairly certain that in a few days there will be new leaves on the bit I left. The stick is lying across the back of the plant stand for now, as neither Paul nor I have the heart to throw it in the trash.

If the stick dries nicely, Paul will try to fashion it into a cross. That way, it will be a symbol of everlasting life - an appropriate end for a plant that simply will not die!

OWL: Orphaned Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre

Today I had an adventure with my lower level grade 9 class.

The kids have been reading and studying "Owls in the Family" by Farley Mowat. The boys especially are really enjoying the action and adventure as Billy and Bruce try to find an owl to keep as a pet. Of course, "Owls in the Family" is set in Farley Mowat's childhood in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan long before it was against the law to keep a raptor, or bird of prey, as a pet. Now the only legally owned raptors are those used by registered Falconers. In keeping with the owl theme, I took the kids down to Delta, BC to OWL, otherwise known as the Orphaned Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre. This non-profit organization rescues injured raptors, rehabilitates them, then releases them back into the wild.

We met Oddy, a 16 year old barn owl who was rescued as a owlet by the founder of OWL. She was abandoned by her mother because she was not normal. As far as they can recreate, it seems likely the the mother owl consumed a mouse which had recently eaten digitalis (found in foxglove) within 36 hours of laying an egg (the owl, not the mouse). When the egg hatched, the owlet was abandoned to death, and was discovered by hikers. Oddy is so named because not only is she afraid of the dark, but she is also afraid of live mice! So, she sleeps with a night light and feeds only on dead mice. Her deformities are only noticeable those in the owl-know. Her face is not quite the proper heart-shape of a barn owl, her legs and talons are longer, and the back of her head is flat. There are only two families of owls in the world, all other types of owls and barn owls.

After a very interesting and informative session in an old school house, we braved a windy, wet day to go see some of the permanent residents at the centre. They are permanent due to amputations that make it impossible for them to be reintegrated into the wild and survive, but still have a role in becoming foster parents to young raptors who need to be raised before being returned to the wild.

Before we left, I purchased a bag of owl pellets for the kids to dissect tomorrow. I know, I know - I teach English. However, I have always enjoyed biology and natural history and there is lots of useful vocabulary for the kids to learn such as skull, femur, tibia, jaw and so on. Who knows, one of them may become an orthopedic surgeon someday.

I spent this evening tracking down enough inexpensive pairs of tweezers for my students, then settled in to dissecting one of the pellets. Owls eat their prey live, in about one gulp. Afterward, the sit around for about 6 hours digesting the beasties they've eaten. Once digestion is complete, they regurgitate the fur and bone. So, pellets are essentially owl barf.

So, tomorrow I will spend an hour with my grade 9's playing with owl upchuck.

Good Pronunciation is Important

Sometimes the things that I find amusing when reading or listening to ESL speakers are simply a matter of mispronunciation. I taught Phonology at Trinity Western University before moving on to English at Pacific Academy. Phonology is basically the science of sound in language. Each language has a unique set of sounds that has an influence on second language pronunciation.

Mispronunciation of English may be the result of various things:

1. The speaker's first language might not have the sound that he or she is trying to pronounce in English.

2. The speaker's first language might have a subconcious sound alternation in a certain context that is not a subconcious sound alternation in English.

Technical jargon: L1 has a phoneme for sounds that are allophones in L2.

3. The speaker's first language might have a subconcious sound alternation in a certain context that overlaps with a subconcious sound alternation in English.

Technical jargon: L1 has a phoneme that has one or more sounds that overlap with those in a phoneme in L2.

4. The written symbols in English correspond with different sounds in the speaker's first language.

5. The speaker has a speech impediment, regardless of what language he or she is trying to speak.

Let me give you an example of #2 to explain in a roundabout way why good pronunciation is importatnt.

In English, we have two sounds /s/ and /sh/. We are aware of these sounds, and even spell them differently. /s/ is written as "s" or "c" most of the time and /sh/ is written as "sh."

Korean has the same two sounds, but they are mutually indistinguishable to the native Korean speaker. /sh/ is pronounced before /ee/ or /i/ as in "sheep" or "ship." /s/ is pronounced everywhere else in the language.

Thus, a Korean speaker will have problems distinguishing between "sip" and "ship" as well as between "seep" and "sheep." He or she may also mispronounce words in which "sh" occurs before other sounds, or before no sound. For example, words such as "bash" or "shave" might be mispronounced as "bass" (i.e. the fish) or "save." To confuse matters further, "v" is not a sound in Korean, so "shave" would actually be mispronounced as "sabe," theoretically.

I have had Korean women in my home ask for a cup of "copy" instead of "coffee." The student who wrote "obeytion" for "ovation" (cf. blog "Almost a New Year") was simply writing the word as he had heard me pronounce it through his Korean language filter.

Most of the time, mispronounciation results in a bit of confusion that is worked out through practice, patience and a very good sense of humour. However, sometimes mispronunciation results in potentially offensive language. Consider a Korean speakers mispronunciation of the word "sit."

I rest my case. Good pronunciation is important!

Humourous Quotes of the Day

Related somewhat to the previous blog, there were two very funny written mispronunciations today, one from grade 9 and the other from grade 10.

One student wrote that she had not yet "unparked" her suitcases, even though she returned to Canada over a week ago. I like that one, because it is even more descriptive than "unpacked." The luggage truly does stay parked in the middle of a room until such time as we unpack it and store the bags. Paul and I still have unpacked boxes from our August move which are appropriately enough "parked" in our garage.

Another student who is preparing for a Royal Conservatory of Music exam next week talked about how difficult the "earring test" would be. Oh how much better my short musical career would have gone, had my grade 4 RCM exam only contained an earring test! I never could distinguish the "distance" between notes. A fifth was as much like an octave as an octave was a fifth. Hearing tests were my musical downfall.

The last quote of the day contains no mispronunciations, but was clearly written using a translator. That is, the meaning is clear but the usage is not that of a native English speaker.

"We placed ourselves in a Taiwanese restaurant for a light repast."

And now that my alotted "fun writing time" is up, I must resume marking for the remainder of the evening. I will now place myself at my desk with a stack of assignments!

Rainy Day Monday

The Lower Rainland is living up to its name today. I have discovered since living here that there are degrees of rain. What might be considered rain in some other part of the world, doesn't warrant carrying an umbrella here. However, today it is really raining. That is, the sort of rain that without the proper gear results in a good dowsing.

So, today my students arrived not only in a Monday morning daze, but also in a very soggy state. The week of jetlag seems to be over at last, although I was still minus one student who isn't "feeling well." Jetlag can only get them so far in my cynical opinion.

Late this afternoon, Paul braved the elements and freeway traffic to commute into Vancouver for his first evening of teaching for the semester. I drive parallel to the freeway each afternoon as I return home, so am able to give him an up-to-date traffic report before he leaves. It rarely varies: "Pretty backed up, already," is my usual comment.

In keeping with the weather, my brain is feeling a bit foggy. I'm pretty sure something funny happened today, but that happening is completely eluding me at present.

Lunchroom Duty

Every Friday, it is my job to supervise the International lunch room. I am certain that this is very light duty compared to doing supervision duty in the school cafeteria, but it does occasionally make for a seemingly endless lunch break!

As supervisor, it is my job to referee the use of the microwaves, refill the kettle and pitcher with water from the high school staff room, and ensure that any garbage actually makes it into the trash can. Other than that, I tend to be barricaded behind the teachers desk, eating my own lunch in the midst of what has become multilingual white noise to my ear.

A carnival atmosphere prevails in the lunchroom. All the high school students are welcome to use the facility, so there are International students to whom I do not teach English, as well as a few brave Canadian kids. To draw a clearer picture, the International lunchroom is actually housed in the Christian Perspectives classroom. There is a counter along one wall with a microwave, and a small table on the opposite wall with another microwave. The wall in between is lined with cupboards, and a refrigerator. In the middle of the room, tables are arranged in a square. At the back of the room, there is a chesterfield, a fooseball table, some shelves and the teacher's desk. It is not a particularly large room, and at lunchtime there are usually more bodies than chairs.

The Taiwanese girls take a corner, as do the Korean girls. The boys occasionally hang out in cultural packs, but are more likely to just hang out together. In part, this is because in a sea of Taiwanese and Korean boys, there is a lone Mexican boy. English is the only common language.

After they eat, a few students will actually work on homework due that afternoon, or ask me to quiz them as they study for a Social, Science or Christian Perspectives test. All the kids know that high school Math has evolved into something which is not at all what I studied in Algebra over 20 years ago.

Every Friday, there is a group of boys playing fooseball in one corner of the room. There are inevitably more boys than available handles, but that doesn't stop the play. The volume increases as the game progresses, and I have no idea if they are cursing or encouraging each other, as the din is not English.

At last the buzzer sounds for the end of lunch, and there is a mad dash to the door. Peace descends on the room.

Take Courage!

Before Christmas, one of my grade 9 classes studied a series of reflections by South African kids who had been to a special camp on a wildlife reserve. The reflections were arranged on a background of artwork by Robert Bateman.

My students took time to research the history and culture of South Africa, and learned a little bit about apartheid. This background information gave them a broader understanding of what the South African kids were reflecting upon in "An African Adventure."

After reading the reflections, each student answered a series of response questions. Would being alone on a midnight watch in the wildlife reserve take courage? Most of the kids responded in the affirmative, as the only world with which they are familiar is that of the overpopulated urban reserve. Another question asked the students to speculate on the relationship between humans and nature. The consensus seemed to be that some sort of harmony between humans and nature was necessary to sustain life on earth in the long term.

It was a response to one of the questions, "What other sorts of things might take courage [besides being in a multi-racial group of students in the middle of a wildlife reserve in South Africa and having to do a solo midnight watch over the camp]?" that sent me into peels of laughter.

All the answers to this question were well thought out, and contained ligitimate examples from a student's perspective of what would require great courage. However, one student, in a list of very serious, courageous deeds listed "2. The courage to not step in poo in the middle of the night."

Door Knob

Humour happens in the smallest situations.

This morning, the outside door knob to my classroom was very loose. The lock mechanism was working just fine, but the handle wouldn't grip.

After lunch, one of my students inadvertently and to her horror pulled the handle off on her way into the classroom. I made a mental note to send an email to the maintenance department.

In the middle of a late afternoon poetry study with my grade 10s, I looked up. The headmaster's face was framed in the window of the door, and in her hand was... the door knob.

I started to laugh uncontrollably. Why is it that we are so prone to laughter at the most inappropriate moments?

I tried to regain my composure, and proceeded to open the door from the inside.

In walked the headmaster - followed by a large group from China! She was taking them on a tour of the school and instructed me to carry on and pretend they weren't there.

I, who was struggling to collect myself, teach English to the International students. Thankfully, they were not in the throes of laughter!

And so went day two of post-Christmas-vacation-week. I wonder what sort of impression we left on the Chinese contingent?

A New Year

Well, the first day back in the classroom after Christmas vacation has passed. It wasn't quite as bad as the last week of school before the holidays when students' attention spans were nonexistent, and their minds were already overseas.

Today's five categories of students:

1. Present and spent Christmas in Canada:
slo-first-day-back-mo
2. Present and spent Christmas overseas:
jetlagged and forgot-all-my-English
3. Absent and spent Christmas overseas 1:
sleeping off jetlag at home
4. Absent and spent Christmas overseas 2:
still overseas with visa problems; ETA unknown
5. Absent and spent Christmas overseas 3:
winging over the Pacific today; see #2 & 3 for tomorrow

Nevertheless, it is great to be teaching again. Happy New Year!