The year is winding down so fast! This month we launched our super duper culmination of the whole year project of very deep thought and difficult technical features called ENGLISH DAY! Cue trumpets. As a group we are throwing an event in every school in the program (7 elementary schools) filled with rotating stations that involve using the English language. There are 5 activity stations, plus art, face-painting, and game stations, an opening ceremony, and an awards ceremony. All in all its a huge undertaking, especially for a group with so few resources. But we have successfully pulled off two so far, and it's been a blast.
Here is a look into how one of my stations goes on a typical rotation. I am operating the Peter Pan Scavenger hunt station, so I of course am dressed like a pirate and have pictures of treasure maps everywhere decorating my station, which is usually under a tree on a 90 degree day in the muddiest area of the school, somehow. Which is a feat in and of itself because the school is almost entirely paved with concrete and it never rains. The children come to my station late, trickling in over a period of 5 minutes and shouting and jumping in the mud and asking me where the treasure is buried. No teacher is in sight. I explain the game (they must read a list of school items in English- green pen, pencil eraser- and attempt to find as many as possible before the clock runs out) in the slowest and simplest English I can muster, with a lot of swashbuckly arm-waving for character. They all nod their heads dismissively, eager to start. I ask them to tell me what they understood in Hebrew. It turns out they didn't understand a thing. I explain it again in Hebrew. Now they are ready to start. I set a timer, and the scene devolves into chaos! Children are running everywhere, stealing things from each other, asking me to translate every single item on the list, arguing over who found something first. The teacher wanders in halfway through, asks what is happening in the station, shrugs with mild interest and wanders to the teachers lounge to get coffee. Every found item gets dumped in the mud, and a team wins based on whichever one manages to get at least one child back in time. I attempt to hand out stickers to the winning team, which causes protests from the other team about cheating, and protests from the winning team because they all want to switch for whatever sticker they didn't get. Then I try to stamp everyone's maps, which usually devolves in children trying to stamp each others faces and me sending everyone away to the next station, for which they are late anyway. And yet somehow, they all leave with smiling faces!
Speaking of disorder, yesterday we had a flying beetle in the classroom. While in an American classroom this might lead to a bit of excitement and an opened window, in the Israeli classroom it seems to mean no learning can be done for an entire period. The girls started shouting and running around the classroom, or cowering under tables giggling wildly. The boys started grabbing textbooks and hurling them at the poor bug, usually missing the bug but landing on light fixtures and book shelves and other students. Chairs were lifted in the air, children were crying, and the teacher was shouting uselessly in the corner. It wasn't even a dangerous bug! The teacher and I finally hurdled the kids into another classroom, and attempted to regain order for the rest of the period. I snuck back into the first classroom, opened a window, and watched while the harmless bug quietly flew away. Any excuse for chaos, really.
Yesterday the Cleveland-Beit Shean partnership put on a thank you event for us and all of our host families. It was, in a word, silly. The afternoon started with what can only be described as a bike beer party bus. It was like a huge golf cart with 20 bike seats attached to fans and a keg in the middle. You bike to keep the fan on, and the bartender refills your beer and blasts music while the driver meanders across the fields at 5 miles an hour. It was utter ridiculousness. We drank to Beit Shean, and our success, and to having no idea how any of us found ourselves here. Then we met up with our host families and their children at the hot spring in a nearby kibbutz, and challenged each other to duels on floating mattresses in the water, which invariably led to everyone pushing each other in. At one point the partnership brought out string, bamboo and lifesavers and we split into teams to build rafts and race them across the river and back with paddles. Both vessels were quite seaworthy, but the boys won. It was a lot of fun, and nice to feel appreciated.
To transition a bit, last week was Yom Hazikaron, or Remembrance Day. It is sort of like the American Veteran's Day, only it also includes anyone who died in a terrorist attack. Two air raid sirens are sounded in every city in the country, one at 8pm and the other at 11am the next morning. We were in the national cemetery for the morning siren, attending the service conducted there for the fallen. It is a beautiful cemetery, with flowers sprouting out of stone and meandering sidewalks that snake up a mountain tiered for both graves and memorials. The memorials are peaceful, and people throw dark roses into the shallow pools. Many ordinary soldiers have stories that catch the hearts of even those who don't know them, often because of exceptional devotion to the cause, and are decorated with candles and stones and knickknacks and notes in every language. High ranking officials are buried right next to nameless soldiers, and people come to pray both for family and for those who have no one left to pray for them. The cemetery was filled with loud chatter, but as soon as the siren went off there was two whole minutes of utter silence. The intensity of the moment was reflected in the faces of every single person I saw. I found it very moving, and hard to put into words.
These posts always end up so much longer than I expect. We only have a month and a half left! I will be sad to leave these children, all of whom have wormed their ways into my hearts, and all of the kind families who have welcome me into their home. And the scenery! But I am preparing for the next phase in my life, and glad to be moving forward. Love to everyone at home, and hopefully see you soon!
Here is a look into how one of my stations goes on a typical rotation. I am operating the Peter Pan Scavenger hunt station, so I of course am dressed like a pirate and have pictures of treasure maps everywhere decorating my station, which is usually under a tree on a 90 degree day in the muddiest area of the school, somehow. Which is a feat in and of itself because the school is almost entirely paved with concrete and it never rains. The children come to my station late, trickling in over a period of 5 minutes and shouting and jumping in the mud and asking me where the treasure is buried. No teacher is in sight. I explain the game (they must read a list of school items in English- green pen, pencil eraser- and attempt to find as many as possible before the clock runs out) in the slowest and simplest English I can muster, with a lot of swashbuckly arm-waving for character. They all nod their heads dismissively, eager to start. I ask them to tell me what they understood in Hebrew. It turns out they didn't understand a thing. I explain it again in Hebrew. Now they are ready to start. I set a timer, and the scene devolves into chaos! Children are running everywhere, stealing things from each other, asking me to translate every single item on the list, arguing over who found something first. The teacher wanders in halfway through, asks what is happening in the station, shrugs with mild interest and wanders to the teachers lounge to get coffee. Every found item gets dumped in the mud, and a team wins based on whichever one manages to get at least one child back in time. I attempt to hand out stickers to the winning team, which causes protests from the other team about cheating, and protests from the winning team because they all want to switch for whatever sticker they didn't get. Then I try to stamp everyone's maps, which usually devolves in children trying to stamp each others faces and me sending everyone away to the next station, for which they are late anyway. And yet somehow, they all leave with smiling faces!
Speaking of disorder, yesterday we had a flying beetle in the classroom. While in an American classroom this might lead to a bit of excitement and an opened window, in the Israeli classroom it seems to mean no learning can be done for an entire period. The girls started shouting and running around the classroom, or cowering under tables giggling wildly. The boys started grabbing textbooks and hurling them at the poor bug, usually missing the bug but landing on light fixtures and book shelves and other students. Chairs were lifted in the air, children were crying, and the teacher was shouting uselessly in the corner. It wasn't even a dangerous bug! The teacher and I finally hurdled the kids into another classroom, and attempted to regain order for the rest of the period. I snuck back into the first classroom, opened a window, and watched while the harmless bug quietly flew away. Any excuse for chaos, really.
Yesterday the Cleveland-Beit Shean partnership put on a thank you event for us and all of our host families. It was, in a word, silly. The afternoon started with what can only be described as a bike beer party bus. It was like a huge golf cart with 20 bike seats attached to fans and a keg in the middle. You bike to keep the fan on, and the bartender refills your beer and blasts music while the driver meanders across the fields at 5 miles an hour. It was utter ridiculousness. We drank to Beit Shean, and our success, and to having no idea how any of us found ourselves here. Then we met up with our host families and their children at the hot spring in a nearby kibbutz, and challenged each other to duels on floating mattresses in the water, which invariably led to everyone pushing each other in. At one point the partnership brought out string, bamboo and lifesavers and we split into teams to build rafts and race them across the river and back with paddles. Both vessels were quite seaworthy, but the boys won. It was a lot of fun, and nice to feel appreciated.
To transition a bit, last week was Yom Hazikaron, or Remembrance Day. It is sort of like the American Veteran's Day, only it also includes anyone who died in a terrorist attack. Two air raid sirens are sounded in every city in the country, one at 8pm and the other at 11am the next morning. We were in the national cemetery for the morning siren, attending the service conducted there for the fallen. It is a beautiful cemetery, with flowers sprouting out of stone and meandering sidewalks that snake up a mountain tiered for both graves and memorials. The memorials are peaceful, and people throw dark roses into the shallow pools. Many ordinary soldiers have stories that catch the hearts of even those who don't know them, often because of exceptional devotion to the cause, and are decorated with candles and stones and knickknacks and notes in every language. High ranking officials are buried right next to nameless soldiers, and people come to pray both for family and for those who have no one left to pray for them. The cemetery was filled with loud chatter, but as soon as the siren went off there was two whole minutes of utter silence. The intensity of the moment was reflected in the faces of every single person I saw. I found it very moving, and hard to put into words.
These posts always end up so much longer than I expect. We only have a month and a half left! I will be sad to leave these children, all of whom have wormed their ways into my hearts, and all of the kind families who have welcome me into their home. And the scenery! But I am preparing for the next phase in my life, and glad to be moving forward. Love to everyone at home, and hopefully see you soon!
No comments:
Post a Comment