Monday, November 13, 2006
My school building consists of three floors, and on each floor is a boys and girls bathroom. The second floor is supposed to be for faculty only, but since there are few men in the high school, the male students use it as if it were their own. The other day I came in and found a student shaving in there with shaving cream and a disposable razor. He was doing a very bad job of it, and had nicked himself quite a bit. There were spots of blood all over his face, and his white dress shirt was splattered with blood. Yet he proudly said "good morning" to show me his English skills.
Some mornings I get to walk Mara to class (all of 100 yards across the paved "quad" to the first grade building). Since we take the teacher shuttle in, we arrive before most of her classmates (early students draw on the board while they wait for the teacher). When I leave her building, I am greeted by the sound of 100 rumbling, rolling backpacks (wheeled packs that are popular now, resembling small airport tagalong luggage). And then it's back to my school building, though I only have one first period class a week.
I brought my camera in to take a picture of Muhamet, but he IS OFF FOR HIS COMPULSORY MILITARY SERVICE! Every male takes part in 9 months to a year of service, and I pity little Muhamet - either he'll get ground up and spit out, or everyone will be so charmed by him that he'll have a great experience. He can't weigh more than 135 pounds, is slight of build with glasses. I never even got to thank him. Cenk is still planning trips, though. He showed me a picture of mud-spattered four-wheelers, and I understood his Turkish enough to see he's planning a four-wheeling trip. Count me in.
My school duties include parents night. Unlike my U.S. high school, which schedules a night for parents to get a brief overview of each class, these are run more like the primary school, where individual parents sit and discuss their child for 5-10 minutes. Each "class or level" meets on a different night, and since I have so many classes, I have four parent nights in the next month.
Gul, my department chair, stayed for my first parent night to translate (about 1/5 of the parents spoke good enough English to not need her help). As expected, discussing a parent's child is the same in whatever country you're in - be positive, offer hope, and even when criticizing and/or discussing what the child can do to be a better student, handle the situation delicately. Parents generally said their children enjoy my class, which is nice. Quite strange to have a translator for such a personal discussion, though.
Some mornings I get to walk Mara to class (all of 100 yards across the paved "quad" to the first grade building). Since we take the teacher shuttle in, we arrive before most of her classmates (early students draw on the board while they wait for the teacher). When I leave her building, I am greeted by the sound of 100 rumbling, rolling backpacks (wheeled packs that are popular now, resembling small airport tagalong luggage). And then it's back to my school building, though I only have one first period class a week.
I brought my camera in to take a picture of Muhamet, but he IS OFF FOR HIS COMPULSORY MILITARY SERVICE! Every male takes part in 9 months to a year of service, and I pity little Muhamet - either he'll get ground up and spit out, or everyone will be so charmed by him that he'll have a great experience. He can't weigh more than 135 pounds, is slight of build with glasses. I never even got to thank him. Cenk is still planning trips, though. He showed me a picture of mud-spattered four-wheelers, and I understood his Turkish enough to see he's planning a four-wheeling trip. Count me in.
My school duties include parents night. Unlike my U.S. high school, which schedules a night for parents to get a brief overview of each class, these are run more like the primary school, where individual parents sit and discuss their child for 5-10 minutes. Each "class or level" meets on a different night, and since I have so many classes, I have four parent nights in the next month.
Gul, my department chair, stayed for my first parent night to translate (about 1/5 of the parents spoke good enough English to not need her help). As expected, discussing a parent's child is the same in whatever country you're in - be positive, offer hope, and even when criticizing and/or discussing what the child can do to be a better student, handle the situation delicately. Parents generally said their children enjoy my class, which is nice. Quite strange to have a translator for such a personal discussion, though.
# posted by Michael Strich @ 12:33 AM 
