My co-teacher surprised me today by walking into two of our
classes, greeting the students, and then turning to me and asking “So what’s
our lesson today?” Yikes! I’ve started taking copious notes in each class so I
can keep track of what they’re studying. Hopefully I’ll be able to answer next
time she springs that question on me. Back at governor’s school, I was told to
always have a “back-pocket activity” on hand in case I needed to fill time. It
looks like I’m going to need a bag of “back-pocket” lesson plans, suitable for
grades 1 through 9 at levels 1 through 6.
Also, my co-teacher doesn’t have answer keys for book
exercises (and sometimes she doesn’t have a copy of the book either). I’m going
to borrow some books for the weekend and write up answer keys in an attempt to
make her life easier. Want to take bets on how long it’ll take me to get
through 300 pages of Elementary English exercises? I’m actually pretty curious…
On the way home from school, I realized how much I miss
running. I asked my co-teacher if she knew where I could buy a soccerball (a
“real football,” as opposed to the American one I brought). We popped in and
out of four different shops to ask. At the last shop, her friend asked us to wait
while she telephoned the owners of a few other small shops. But no luck. It was
an interesting experience, though. So far, my impression of the shops had been
that they all carried exactly the same products. I had wondered how there could
be so many (so many!) of them…enough that even small-town nepotism couldn’t
possibly keep them all in business. Now I know: they count on friends and
neighbors hopping from shop to shop in search of small specific things. It felt
somewhat like an old Czech story I read once about a woman who would go to one
shop and wait in a line for bananas before going to another shop to wait in
line for butter.
I didn’t find a soccerball, but I took my American football
and went for a walk. I texted the boys I met while walking the other day, and
they agreed to meet up to play. First, of course, they had to buy beer and
sunflower seeds. Then we played football in a park for a while. Some more of
their friends showed up, and they suggested (mind you, they speak no English
and I almost no Georgian) we go to the “stadium”—the soccer pitch. There were
some kids there already, so we shared the field for a while. The kids had a
soccer ball, so eventually we decided to have a match. At that point, Alex—one
of the boys—handed me his coat, watch, and cellphone, and he pointed me to the
sideline. I was clearly confused, and Giorgi was kind enough to explain,
“Gogo!” Girl. I watched them play for a while, amused by the cigarettes in
their mouths and the way they would run to the sideline for a sip of beer
between plays. Eventually, I understood that “gogo” didn’t mean I was the first
to sit out but would be subbed in later; it meant that I wouldn’t get to play
at all.
After the game, they walked me
home as an entourage. I’m not sure how to feel about it to be honest. Two of
the boys asked me to text them over the weekend if I want to throw around the
American football. Maybe…
Next time, don't take the stuff, but tell them, "No, I will play." I imagine that would create some controversy! And, when they throw around the American football, do tell them they throw like a girl!
ReplyDelete^This is exactly what you should do!
ReplyDelete