Voy a echar una siesta!

This, I taught to my 7th graders. I see them right after lunch when our hearts are content. We were mechanically reviewing the previous day's lesson when I let out a bear of a yawn.

"What ever happened to naps," I inquired. "The union has failed us. In kindygarden, we had naps! but now?" "Workers of the world, we must unite and form an independent party, free from the capitalist, profit-driven, corporate elites. Only this way, shall we regain our siestas!"

Conveniently, we had been learning to form present tense sentences using 'to go,' therefore, it wasn't much of stretch to learn, "I'm going to take a nap." I spoke a bit of the siesta culture in Spain, had the students recite the phrase above and we proceeded to nap.

You see, language class is much more than simply making funny noises with your head; understanding the culture and knowing when to get some shut-eye are increasingly becoming ever important elements to succeeding in the global village.

p.s. - Hey, Linus, is "voy a echar una siesta" proper? If not, is it, at least, acceptable poetically? and what would be the proper construction?

p.p.s - Hey MC, yall nap in Brazil?

Christmas ain't no holiday!

This, I was informed of by the school secretary in the faculty room during lunch. She began to rail on about how some party or other at the school had had its title changed from "Christmas Party" to "Holiday Party" and she was upset about it.

She didn't get far - I knew a "we need to put Christ back in Christmas" was coming - as I casually inquired, "doesn't holiday mean 'holy day'?"

More than one way to school 'em!

Earlier in the year, I got in trouble for twice arriving 5 min. late. I refuse to content myself with a diet of pasta and catsup, so naturally I decided I should better arrive early. The result of this was me sitting in an empty class for 10 min. staring at the very person who denounced me as she widdle away at her computer. In an effort to get even, I began tapping my foot, zipping and unzipping my bag, clucking my tounge, all to no avail. I stepped outside to get some fresh air and the pigeon-students swarmed my position - "HOLA, HOLA!" they shouted. Holy shit, get away from me, and I've never even taught you 'hola'. STOP SAYING THAT! Know you nothing of the proper protocols for addressing and greeting your superiors!? What's this I see? A soccer ball! Salvation at last! I was lucky enough to be invited into a passing triangle with two of my 3rd graders and since then my left pass has gotten significantly better in a short amount of time.

During my break, rather than waste away in the office that has no windows, I've been heading out onto the pitch to join the students in their recess, schooling them properly.

The argue method

this is exactly what I have the kids do: argue.

It's sunny out.

No, it's not sunny out.

Yes, it's sunny out.

They have a good time screaming their heads off.

Although I'm not so sure the other teachers appreciate this.

No pissing in the sink.

This, I was reminded at the show.

I got in trouble. I got in trouble a few times. I got in trouble for pissing from one urinal to the other when I was 8 years old. It was a long urinal. It was more like a trough. I pissed from one trough to the other, long ways. I don't remember how I got caught.

Catholic school is kinda like that.

Don't piss in funny places. Just do what they tell you and you'll be alright.

Happy Hallofuckingween

The school is having a party.
My classes are canceled.
I won't be paid.
Happy Hallofuckingween!

Poop

so we're expressing what we like and don't like in class. One kid is looking for "poop" in his dictionary but can't find it. I take it from him and find "excrement." Of course, he's never heard of that word. I explain to him that it is a scientific name for poop. A well mannered, girly girl sitting in from of him decides to look for "terd," she proclaims. Another kid runs over and in his triumph shows me his dictionary and the word "crap" with its Spanish equivalent, "mierda."

am I in trouble?

Am I in trouble?

I may have gotten myself in trouble the other day. The day was wednesday or 'miercoles.' And then, at that moment, I had a vision of someone who, in an effort to not say "mierda" says 'miercoles.' So, there on the spot, I taught the kids that saying "miercoles" can be like saying "Oh my gosh!" in an effort to avoid a taboo word. I had them repeating "Oh miercoles!" in unison, it was great.

So, the next day, I asked a question, a student raised the hand but still hadn't found the answer in his notebook. He was taking a long time when one student shouted, "MIERCOLES!" It was funny.

Am I in trouble?

The Curse

The bible talks of hell and the damned. Yet, the uttering of the single word "hell" or "damn" followed by an exclamation mark is taboo, I explained to the children.

Why is it so? These, I tell them, are 'curse' words. Words that were, are used to place a curse upon the intended victim, person or thing. For example, I explained, if the computer is not working properly, simply shout "hell" and said computer might spend eternity in fire and brimstone, inshalla.

Access Denied

I learned this while making an impromptu dash to the in-class computer while the kids were scribbling in their notebooks. I thought it would be marvelous to have the video ready by the time they finished. Well, they hardly had time to start when the curses began. They, too, shared my grief and encouraged me to lead a mutiny. Not this time, my faithful. Youtube, MySpace and wikipedia are not permitted, inaccessible, blocked on school computers. My followers then shouted a litany of other video sharing sites, which all proved unsuccessful; it seems that the video feature is undeniably blocked. Damn it all to hell!

I'm Late!

I have the day off today. The rest of the folks from the Catholic schools in the region are attending some kind of training. Because I'm a temp, I'm not invited. Of course I'm not paid today, either. But that didn't stop me from going out last night and quaffing the noble brew.

My phone rang at 8:30 am. I probably would have slept a lot longer. I listened to the message. It's my boss. Although, she's not really my boss. She hired me and I've never seen her again. Except for the one time when she "dropped" by my class and did an unannounced, unsolicited observation and then proceeded to verbally critique me and offer me "advice." She even disciplined some unruly 6 year old during my lesson. In the end, she is my colleague who has been burdened with hiring other temps and running the "company" while the owner is MIA (not the pop-artist but missing in action). I'm sure that she must have some formal training but the company basically hires anyone who can mumble in Spanish. Because she is a Latina, she somehow knows what she is doing.

I listen to the voice mail. It's her. She says, "the principal from school x wrote me an email and said that you've been late a few times. give me a call."

shit. Just the way that I wanted to start my day, groveling to my equal and listening to her critiques. As if she is never late to a class. I staggered over to the computer and checked my email. I, too, received an email from the principal stating that "it's been brought to her attention...bla bla bla... it's important that I be in class on-time ready to teach...bla bla bla."

I wouldn't be in this mess if the home-room teacher wasn't such a biatch, for I'm sure that it was she who denounced me. She would have me lined up in the town square, put against the wall or shoved off the cliff into the river while tied to the other habitually tardy. What the F*ck does she care. All she does is sit at her desk, grade papers, surf the net while I'm teaching anyway! I know why. Because the damned kids are so mis-behaved that 5 min. without constant attention from a teacher and the class will be filled with smoke, students high as radio tower. But why didn't she say something to me first, why go straight to the principal, and why does the principal CC the email to my "boss." Holy f*ck people!!!

Now, it is true that I have rolled in more than 5 min. late on more than one occasion. But I can explain! First, the snot nose kids don't usually roll in until 5 late anyway, so why should I be there early? What, am I supposed to watch the homeroom teacher grade her papers? Should I go chill in the staff-room which consists of a table and chairs? Second, I'm commuting to get there and any little hitch in the traffic and I'm gonna be late; Never mind understanding and tolerance, we're at a Catholic school here people! Besides, what do these people expect, I'm a temp for crying out loud, I'm supposed to roll in late! If you want me to be on time, hire me like a normal person and give me my frikin salary and a half a baguette and a bottle of Bordeaux Supérieur!

Point Break

so we've been practicing present tense and how to express what we eat and what we drink and so forth.

I asked the student, "Que bebes?"
He responded, "I'm not a baby" with a shit eating grin on his face.
I replyed, "No, but you may be failing."

and to another student, "Que comes?" and he responds, "Sí!"

I was at the point of breaking but then I remembered, thanks to EnglishTeacher X, that one of the main parts of my job is to keep the kids happy, so I took a deep breath and counted to ten and continued.

Full Circle

I have returned. After leaving catholic schools after the 7th grade, I have come full circle. This time, I 'm on the other side of the desk, at a different school, of course; only if they knew...if Sister Mariam could see me now, that would show her!

Catholic schools can be quite a funny place. Before the year started, I was invited to the teachers meeting. Of course they started with a song and prayer. I just kinda avoided eye-contact, head bent forward, silent. The singing was awful, just like the little, measly, thin paper they call bread and give out at mass. In good ol' Catholic school fashion, they spent the first hour talking about enforcing the dress code; shirts tucked in, matching socks, no non-school affiliated sweaters and pull-overs, earrings no bigger than a quarter, and on and on and frickin' on, jesus cristo!

In this new school, as in my former school, all the students gather in the morning to effortlessly, absentmindedly breath out while barely vocalizing the lords prayer. The ceremony of it all is quite amusing. Of course, I roll in just as they finish. On Wednesday mornings when they are at mass, I'm in my windowless office, readin' the news.

Hospitality of a Priest

So, you know that I teach at two Catholic schools, right?

I've heard that the number of worshipers of the Catholic faith is down world wide.

I'd advise the church to start serving better bread and sharing the frickin' wine!

What kind of hospitality is that? The egomaniac priest invites you into the church, lectures at you on and on for about an hour, meanwhile, he offers you a measly, thin piece of paper that he calls bread (and don't even think of asking for seconds) and then further insults you by slurping some Bordeaux Supérieur right in front of your face without offering you any.

Pope, if you are reading this, take note. Start giving out a fresh, warm baguette and at least a 1/2 bottle of wine to every worshiper. Then watch your numbers soar. Hell, I'll even start attending regularly.

Love being a Temp

Oh, how I love it. Grades were due today, nobody told me. One of my classes was canceled yesterday, they told me as I stared into the dark, empty classroom. I went back to my office, the one without the window, and read the news. Later, I wondered over to the staff room. There was coffee cake and coffee.

fuck this place

around 1:00 am, I was awoken by the sound of water drip dripping,
smack, smack, smack, smack, smack onto the wet bathroom floor.
It turns out that it's raining outside and now water is dripping into my bathroom.
I put down a bucket, no problem. The water starts to drip with more
vigor until it reaches a steady stream, like that of a drunkard pissing
in the street. I'll need a bigger bucket, either that or keep changing
the small one every ten minutes. it's now 3:00 am and I now have
two 63 liter buckets collecting thewater from two different sources.
The rain water mixed with whatever shit is on the roof
and in the building (our apt. is on the middle floor) is a light brown
color, similar to a light english ale. The smell is unpleasant, dirty,
smokey,plastic and paint, unlike a light english ale. I feel a bit nauseous.
I would like to sleep but I should probably tend to the buckets;
I don't want them to overflow. but why is this my responsibility?
I'm a renter here, fuck this place.

I'm a "temp"

For the moment, I'm a "temp" Spanish teacher. I work for a "company" that supplies foreign language teachers to elementary schools, both public and private. This saves the schools money as they don't have to hire a full-time teachers and pay benefits. It makes the "company" money because they take money from our hourly wage. I started with them part-time last year and the pay is great although the hours aren't much. This year, I've been "promoted" as I'm teaching at two Catholic schools and my hours have been increased, although the hours aren't as much as I was quoted this summer. They quoted me 27 and in the end I have about 16, 3 of which are at reduced pay, labeled as prep. time. I feel kinda cheated. What to do? I'm trying to do a good job and hopefully get hired directly by the school next year.