Guess who is exhausted.
Guess who said goodbye to her students and coworkers from Tuesday to today.
Guess who is frantically packing and wrapping things up at the end of this week.
Yeah, that'd be me.
Apologies that I haven't been updating, especially when I have so much about which to write. But, given the emotional and mental stress I've been under, I know I shouldn't recall events until things have calmed down a bit, at the expense of missing out on recording thoughts as they are felt. Suffice to say, my time as a teaching assistant at the Grundschule Klein Hehlen was generally wonderful, and there will be a small ache in my heart that I won't see most of these people/children again, even when I do come back sometime in the vague future.
I do want to acknowledge Frau Doehrmann at this moment, since saying goodbye to her was one of the hardest things to do; she is someone I genuinely respect and admire, and it was always a pleasure working with such a kind and intelligent woman. She is part of the reason why I worked so well with 2a, and because of her I was able to develop my teaching skills and lesson planning. She is a good teacher, but she is also a good person. That left a permanent impression on me.
It sounds cheesy, I know, and perhaps it is the residual emotional gunk from yesterday's goodbye. But, it's my blog, and I'll get sentimental if I want to.
There are many things to record, among them being: teaching 3c and 4a alone; breakfast with my landlords and their children; Tag der Niedersachsen and the Americans; Tuesday's classes with 3b and 2a; Wednesday's goodbyes and the assembly; and coffee with Elisabeth and Silke. This may have to wait until I'm back in the States.
This post sounds rather melancholy, and in truth it is, for the most part. But, it's also a simple statement that though goodbyes are hard, the reason why they're so hard in this particular situation speaks volumes about this year. And it must have been damn special for me to feel this much sorrow about leaving.
Ein Platz im Grünen mit vielen Bäumen,
viel Raum zum Spielen, Toben und Träumen.
Hier treff' ich meine Freunde und wir lernen was für's Leben,
mit Kopf und Herz und Hand vom Nehmen und vom Geben.
Das tun wir hier zusammen in Klein Hehlen.
Showing posts with label grundschule. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grundschule. Show all posts
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
It's Getting Close
Very soon, I will have to write a blog post that I have been dreading writing, and that concerns a summary and reflection of my tenure as a Fulbright E.T.A. It means that I have to say goodbye to a job that I've loved dearly and to children who don't really know it, but who have made an impact on me. A frightfully big impact.
They're not without their faults. They're ungrateful, sometimes bratty, sometimes spiteful little ducks, but for the most part they're the most well-behaved students I've seen. I know that most will not remember me other than the fact that there was an American E.T.A. at their school, even though I was actively doing things in their classes at least once a week all year. I also know that some teachers will be relieved to get back to teaching solo.
And I'm okay with this. I've loved every minute of it, including the stressful and hurtful parts.
The grief that I'll have is necessary. If I didn't have the grief, then this time wouldn't have mattered to me as much as it has.
A few things have happened since my last post. Two Sundays ago, I went with Maryle and Rachel, the Dresden Fulbrighter with whom I stayed over New Year's, to Hildesheim, a quaint town in Niedersachsen. It really was a pretty place, and we spent most of our time outside walking around or inside churches. The most notable aspect of our trip was the absolute quiet that surrounded us, as most shops are closed on Sundays in Germany. It was certainly the quietest trip I have taken. Other interesting things about the trip include: the 1,000-year rosebush, the St. Michaelis Kirche (claimed to be 1,000 years old, but it's more like 700), getting a free tour from an elderly man in the St. Andreas Kirche, getting Spaghetti Eis (yes, spaghetti ice cream), and taking a picture of a half-eaten sandwich.
This past Saturday brought about the last opera I am to see here in Germany (for awhile, anyway): Puccini's Madama Butterfly. The production was quite good, but I had a sad feeling in my heart when I gave the opera house one last glance, for I knew that the curtain had drawn on one of my favorite pastimes here in Germany. Having seen six operas in ten months, I call this an accomplishment, and I have Maryle to thank for getting me into this form of theatre and music.
Sunday also was a bit busy for me, as my fellow substitute/friend, Katrin, had invited me to coffee. She picked me up and drove to Hehlener Tor, a suburb of Celle (whereas I live in Klein Hehlen). The cafe, KraeuThaer, is actually a cooking school, and all of the food is made by the students. Katrin had invited another one of the substitutes, Helga, along, and Annagriet, one of the actual teachers at GKH, also came. All in all, it was a very enjoyable visit, and we spent about three and a half hours talking. I really do appreciate it that Katrin went out of her way to invite me to do something before I left, and her gift of a "good luck" book will have a place in my special bookcase back in Huntsville.
This week has been hectic, as so many teachers are out either on class trips or because of illness. Because of this, I have been promoted to full substitute for English, which is fine. It would have been better had Suzana actually left, you know, lesson plans, but I don't want to sound greedy.
Next week will be painful.
Next week I must say goodbye.
They're not without their faults. They're ungrateful, sometimes bratty, sometimes spiteful little ducks, but for the most part they're the most well-behaved students I've seen. I know that most will not remember me other than the fact that there was an American E.T.A. at their school, even though I was actively doing things in their classes at least once a week all year. I also know that some teachers will be relieved to get back to teaching solo.
And I'm okay with this. I've loved every minute of it, including the stressful and hurtful parts.
The grief that I'll have is necessary. If I didn't have the grief, then this time wouldn't have mattered to me as much as it has.
* * *
A few things have happened since my last post. Two Sundays ago, I went with Maryle and Rachel, the Dresden Fulbrighter with whom I stayed over New Year's, to Hildesheim, a quaint town in Niedersachsen. It really was a pretty place, and we spent most of our time outside walking around or inside churches. The most notable aspect of our trip was the absolute quiet that surrounded us, as most shops are closed on Sundays in Germany. It was certainly the quietest trip I have taken. Other interesting things about the trip include: the 1,000-year rosebush, the St. Michaelis Kirche (claimed to be 1,000 years old, but it's more like 700), getting a free tour from an elderly man in the St. Andreas Kirche, getting Spaghetti Eis (yes, spaghetti ice cream), and taking a picture of a half-eaten sandwich.
Rachel: "Why would someone leave a sandwich here?" (as all three of us whip out our cameras)
This past Saturday brought about the last opera I am to see here in Germany (for awhile, anyway): Puccini's Madama Butterfly. The production was quite good, but I had a sad feeling in my heart when I gave the opera house one last glance, for I knew that the curtain had drawn on one of my favorite pastimes here in Germany. Having seen six operas in ten months, I call this an accomplishment, and I have Maryle to thank for getting me into this form of theatre and music.
Sunday also was a bit busy for me, as my fellow substitute/friend, Katrin, had invited me to coffee. She picked me up and drove to Hehlener Tor, a suburb of Celle (whereas I live in Klein Hehlen). The cafe, KraeuThaer, is actually a cooking school, and all of the food is made by the students. Katrin had invited another one of the substitutes, Helga, along, and Annagriet, one of the actual teachers at GKH, also came. All in all, it was a very enjoyable visit, and we spent about three and a half hours talking. I really do appreciate it that Katrin went out of her way to invite me to do something before I left, and her gift of a "good luck" book will have a place in my special bookcase back in Huntsville.
This week has been hectic, as so many teachers are out either on class trips or because of illness. Because of this, I have been promoted to full substitute for English, which is fine. It would have been better had Suzana actually left, you know, lesson plans, but I don't want to sound greedy.
Next week will be painful.
Next week I must say goodbye.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
The Jenasaur Files
It was warm that day.
I could feel it in the air; it was the day where my herd and I were to go amongst our own, though in more confined quarters. I sensed, rather than saw, the prevailing excitement among the little ones, as our leader, one in the middle stages of pregnancy, rallied them up for the strenuous journey ahead. I was impressed that she did this without biting.
Our guides placed us in a long, narrow vehicle, which was adequate for our journey, and I managed to keep the little ones of the herd (indeed, they comprised the majority of our herd, as our numbers have admittedly thinned) in line for the entire duration. The ride was long, but we knew it was necessary for our pilgrimage.
The air was still when we arrived and exited the vehicle. I had never had much use for human automobiles, for they truly baffled me--but I suppose lacking monkey thumbs and proper eyesight (such a limitation for humans) makes me a bit biased in this regard. However, it brought my herd to our destination, so as a show of gratitude, I did not devour the driver.
As the little Duckieatopses trotted about and stretched their legs, I looked out at what lay before us: this land's, Germania's, largest dinosaur "reserve," a place for my kind to wander with freedom among our very own. My kind. My people. One of the Jenasaur.
Our Fearless Leader and I guided the Duckieatopses into the park, first coming upon a horrific sight: a mound of sand bricks, which we were told held the remains of our brethren who had been brutally murdered by our enemies, the humans. We dug and dug to preserve our kind's remains, to cleanse them of the earth and give them a proper memorial, working relentlessly to free the skeletons of dinosaurs long since gone. It was a grueling task, and one especially hard on the little ones, who until now had been sheltered from the cruel reality of our war with the humans.
The rest of the time was spent getting to know the permanent residents of the park and how they have adapted to confinement. The Duckietopses, their hearts heavy with their first task, were somewhat refreshed by this step, as they stood in awe of such specimen as Parrot Lizard. One of us, and yet so different.
The Duckieatopses, being somewhat drawn to me, kept me company throughout our venture into the wilderness. One such, named Sarahsaurus, particularly attached herself to me, and Indrosaur and his rather large straw hat (I chose not to ask where he had acquired such a human decoration) painted an amusing picture.
This was, of course, until the little ones started devouring one of their own.
It was a horrifying scene, really. It appeared that a Tyrannosaurus had actually done the job, but the herd leaped upon the dying Triceratops's body without abandon, gnawing at the open flesh and surrounding it like the flies that plague the human carrion. I watched with disgust, not acting upon instinct in case they were to turn on me.
Reeling from such an occurrence, our Fearless Leader and I rushed the Duckieatopses through the rest of the park before they could do more damage in order to reunite with more of our pack--more, less cannibal, Duckieatopses. It being a warm, sunny day, we allowed the little ones some playtime in the sand, whereas such Duckieatopses as Nelesaur, Marthasaurus, and even Juliatops beckoned me to partake in their playing. Still, the unsettling feeling remained, and I knew that we must leave the Dino-Park, even if it meant returning to the realm of humans, our enemies.
As we were once again herded into the long, narrow vehicle and were transported back to Celle, I knew that this adventure among our own kind was worth it. But, I still lie awake at night, reeling from the nightmares that my cannibalistic Duckietopses have created for me...thus creating my own existential crisis about who exactly is in the right in this war of dinosaurs versus humans.
...
(OH HEY, the Dino-Park was lots of fun.)
I could feel it in the air; it was the day where my herd and I were to go amongst our own, though in more confined quarters. I sensed, rather than saw, the prevailing excitement among the little ones, as our leader, one in the middle stages of pregnancy, rallied them up for the strenuous journey ahead. I was impressed that she did this without biting.
Our guides placed us in a long, narrow vehicle, which was adequate for our journey, and I managed to keep the little ones of the herd (indeed, they comprised the majority of our herd, as our numbers have admittedly thinned) in line for the entire duration. The ride was long, but we knew it was necessary for our pilgrimage.
The air was still when we arrived and exited the vehicle. I had never had much use for human automobiles, for they truly baffled me--but I suppose lacking monkey thumbs and proper eyesight (such a limitation for humans) makes me a bit biased in this regard. However, it brought my herd to our destination, so as a show of gratitude, I did not devour the driver.
As the little Duckieatopses trotted about and stretched their legs, I looked out at what lay before us: this land's, Germania's, largest dinosaur "reserve," a place for my kind to wander with freedom among our very own. My kind. My people. One of the Jenasaur.
Our Fearless Leader and I guided the Duckieatopses into the park, first coming upon a horrific sight: a mound of sand bricks, which we were told held the remains of our brethren who had been brutally murdered by our enemies, the humans. We dug and dug to preserve our kind's remains, to cleanse them of the earth and give them a proper memorial, working relentlessly to free the skeletons of dinosaurs long since gone. It was a grueling task, and one especially hard on the little ones, who until now had been sheltered from the cruel reality of our war with the humans.
The rest of the time was spent getting to know the permanent residents of the park and how they have adapted to confinement. The Duckietopses, their hearts heavy with their first task, were somewhat refreshed by this step, as they stood in awe of such specimen as Parrot Lizard. One of us, and yet so different.
The Duckieatopses, being somewhat drawn to me, kept me company throughout our venture into the wilderness. One such, named Sarahsaurus, particularly attached herself to me, and Indrosaur and his rather large straw hat (I chose not to ask where he had acquired such a human decoration) painted an amusing picture.
This was, of course, until the little ones started devouring one of their own.
It was a horrifying scene, really. It appeared that a Tyrannosaurus had actually done the job, but the herd leaped upon the dying Triceratops's body without abandon, gnawing at the open flesh and surrounding it like the flies that plague the human carrion. I watched with disgust, not acting upon instinct in case they were to turn on me.
Reeling from such an occurrence, our Fearless Leader and I rushed the Duckieatopses through the rest of the park before they could do more damage in order to reunite with more of our pack--more, less cannibal, Duckieatopses. It being a warm, sunny day, we allowed the little ones some playtime in the sand, whereas such Duckieatopses as Nelesaur, Marthasaurus, and even Juliatops beckoned me to partake in their playing. Still, the unsettling feeling remained, and I knew that we must leave the Dino-Park, even if it meant returning to the realm of humans, our enemies.
As we were once again herded into the long, narrow vehicle and were transported back to Celle, I knew that this adventure among our own kind was worth it. But, I still lie awake at night, reeling from the nightmares that my cannibalistic Duckietopses have created for me...thus creating my own existential crisis about who exactly is in the right in this war of dinosaurs versus humans.
...
(OH HEY, the Dino-Park was lots of fun.)
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Projectwoche, Part I: Dinosaurs and Unexpected Occurrences
So, this past week was Projectwoche at my school, when every class has an individual theme with which to work over the entire week; thus, there are no actual classes. Given that there naturally wasn't going to be an English-themed project, I had initially thought that there wouldn't be much use for me.
I was wrong. Oh, how wrong was I.
What do you to with an E.T.A. who is great at teaching English and making True Aht, but couldn't really do anything useful on German themes without a week of preparation? Well, Frau Doehrmann had invited me to help out with 2a's dinosaur theme, seeing as I know the class well and can, as aforementioned, make art magically appear with little to no notice. This theme is fitting in many ways:
1.) Dinosaurs are kind of cool.
2.) You don't have to have a degree in Archaeology to make German kids teach you about dinosaurs and which ones are the coolest.
3.) One of the nicknames I have earned may or may not be Jenasaur.
I happily gave up my free day in order to work with this class throughout the entire duration of Projectwoche (which actually didn't turn out that way; whoo, foreshadowing, whoo), and it was easily one of my most enjoyable weeks at the Grundschule.
So. Let's begin.
On Monday, I actually performed the task I was assigned to do: help the children with art. Unexpected Occurrence No. 1 arose when I discovered what the art project was: making our own fossils. Cool and fun? Yes, of course. Difficult to mix the Gips and water to the correct consistency? Hell, yes. Though I did not really get the hang of it until almost everyone was finished, I would call this a success, as the "fossils" (made from seashells, toy dinosaur footprints/corpses, and the like) turned out fine and the kids had a fun time.
Adorable aside:
Dylan: "Good day. I've brought an English book about dinosaurs. Come, come!" (trots off)
Tuesday was spent largely helping out with the kids' worksheets, as Silke had set up workstations for the kids to work on all week, so they would acquire a fairly solid knowledge of the dinosaurs they were studying. I would say that the only noteworthy thing about this day was that I helped Nele and Martha, two of my sweetest students, with Dino-Domino, and Nele kept insisting I read aloud the clues. Afterward, the kids built their own mini-Dino-Park, complete with moss, a bird's nest, shells, and a triceratops skeleton.
After work, I had a nice chat with Steffi, and it's comforting to know that I will leave Germany with the fact that I could speak German very well to at least one person.
Wednesday brought about Unexpected Occurrence No. 2. As I entered the building, the main teacher for 2c, Frau Peters, spotted me and wondered if I could do her a big favor. Being the wonderful and benevolent person that I am, I consented; the favor being that I could help 2c, whose theme also centered on dinosaurs, with the fossil Aht. Being a seasoned Gips artiste by now, things went smoothly.
Unexpected Occurrence No. 3 actually highlights my amazing powers of the astute, as I happened to notice for the first time that Frau Peters is pregnant. Visibly so, which means that she has been for quite some time. I see this woman four days a week. Erk. Astute. That's me.
Unexpected Occurrence No. 4 came immediately thereafter, as while the kids were working on their own worksheets, Frau Peters invited me to come along with 2a and 2c for their trip to the Dino-Park in Muenchehagen on Friday. Knowing that I have only a couple of more weeks with these children, I accepted the role of Hapless Chaperon No. 4, thus concluding a day full of improvisation and minimal dino-stomping.
But was this to be the end of unexpected occurrences, which is a ridiculously long title to keep typing out? No, of course not, for this is my work, and my work is full of these things. That morning, as I came into the teacher's lounge, I noticed on the substitute's plan that I was scheduled to work with 4c for four hours (Unexpected Occurrence No. 5). The woman who plans these things told me I was to help with art, so I (grudgingly) trudged upstairs to deal with GKH's most difficult class, thinking grumble-y thoughts and darker forms of punishment for unruly German children.
Elisabeth was already there, working with the students on an Erinnerungsbuch, or memory book. In the fourth class, many things go on with the students, as this is the grade where they learn which of the three schools they will attend: Gymnasium, Realschule, or Hauptschule (ranking from best to worst), which will essentially affect what kind of jobs they will be able to get when they graduate, or if they'll be able to realistically go to university. My students discovered which schools they were going to this past week...which actually makes the rest of the school year kind of pointless, in my opinion. Regardless, this memory book was more of a "dream job" book more than anything, as it just consisted of every student's desired future occupation. As most of these students are going to Realschule, I really do hope that they will be able to eventually upgrade to Gymnasium, as many want to become doctors and the like (considering if this was not just a cop-out job for those who were lazy).
So, why was I there? To help binding these said books. Who doesn't know the binding techniques that these students learned in their textile class? This E.T.A. Not to worry, though; mainly, I was there to keep the class in check and be available when there were questions about the other stages of the book-making process, along with being there to chat with Elisabeth as she vented out her frustrations concerning that gosh-darn 4c: the class everyone loves to hate.
I feel sorry for them, really. The kids are fine, but as a whole...they are not fun to teach. They are sarcastic (mockingly, not endearingly, so), loud, and slower on the uptake, and the main reason my coworkers give is because these students come from "a different level of society." This makes me uncomfortable, and I'm sure my faithful followers can imagine why. And I think that because their teachers--every single one of them I've talked to about them--have this sort of attitude toward them, the students naturally live up to this expectation. Six of the twenty students are going to Gymnasium, but that's partially because their teachers had that expectation for those particular students from the beginning, I'm guessing. But, getting back on track, the kids like me well enough, and they have fun chattering to me and learning random bits of (clean) English.
As they were finishing up their books, I noticed that Elisabeth told Gianna to make another one, which the latter dutifully spent the rest of the time making. I had a feeling what was coming, so this doesn't count as Unexpected Occurrence No. 6; she had made a book for me, and all of the students had signed the front page. It was presented to me at the end of the day.
No, this wasn't Unexpected Occurrence No. 6, but here's what was.
They got up and sang me a song about being underway. About leaving and saying goodbye. And they did it without mocking me, or anything like that.
That was perhaps the most unexpected thing this past week.
Sure, the sendoff was a bit early, since I don't leave for three weeks. But, it was sweet all the same. And though I know they'll be back to being little hellions for the next couple of weeks, I'm okay with that. They are what they were expected to be, and I can't take their memory back with me with any resentment because of that. Sure, I'll still moan and groan about them, but they are good kids. And I wish them luck in the future, when (or if, rather) they look back on their Erinnerungsbuch and see if they have become what they initially set off to be.
Whew, this is a longer post than I had intended. I think it would be better if I reserved the Dino-Park extravaganza for a separate post, just so my two fans can breathe a bit. Be back shortly.
I was wrong. Oh, how wrong was I.
What do you to with an E.T.A. who is great at teaching English and making True Aht, but couldn't really do anything useful on German themes without a week of preparation? Well, Frau Doehrmann had invited me to help out with 2a's dinosaur theme, seeing as I know the class well and can, as aforementioned, make art magically appear with little to no notice. This theme is fitting in many ways:
1.) Dinosaurs are kind of cool.
2.) You don't have to have a degree in Archaeology to make German kids teach you about dinosaurs and which ones are the coolest.
3.) One of the nicknames I have earned may or may not be Jenasaur.
I happily gave up my free day in order to work with this class throughout the entire duration of Projectwoche (which actually didn't turn out that way; whoo, foreshadowing, whoo), and it was easily one of my most enjoyable weeks at the Grundschule.
So. Let's begin.
On Monday, I actually performed the task I was assigned to do: help the children with art. Unexpected Occurrence No. 1 arose when I discovered what the art project was: making our own fossils. Cool and fun? Yes, of course. Difficult to mix the Gips and water to the correct consistency? Hell, yes. Though I did not really get the hang of it until almost everyone was finished, I would call this a success, as the "fossils" (made from seashells, toy dinosaur footprints/corpses, and the like) turned out fine and the kids had a fun time.
Adorable aside:
Dylan: "Good day. I've brought an English book about dinosaurs. Come, come!" (trots off)
Tuesday was spent largely helping out with the kids' worksheets, as Silke had set up workstations for the kids to work on all week, so they would acquire a fairly solid knowledge of the dinosaurs they were studying. I would say that the only noteworthy thing about this day was that I helped Nele and Martha, two of my sweetest students, with Dino-Domino, and Nele kept insisting I read aloud the clues. Afterward, the kids built their own mini-Dino-Park, complete with moss, a bird's nest, shells, and a triceratops skeleton.
After work, I had a nice chat with Steffi, and it's comforting to know that I will leave Germany with the fact that I could speak German very well to at least one person.
Wednesday brought about Unexpected Occurrence No. 2. As I entered the building, the main teacher for 2c, Frau Peters, spotted me and wondered if I could do her a big favor. Being the wonderful and benevolent person that I am, I consented; the favor being that I could help 2c, whose theme also centered on dinosaurs, with the fossil Aht. Being a seasoned Gips artiste by now, things went smoothly.
Unexpected Occurrence No. 3 actually highlights my amazing powers of the astute, as I happened to notice for the first time that Frau Peters is pregnant. Visibly so, which means that she has been for quite some time. I see this woman four days a week. Erk. Astute. That's me.
Unexpected Occurrence No. 4 came immediately thereafter, as while the kids were working on their own worksheets, Frau Peters invited me to come along with 2a and 2c for their trip to the Dino-Park in Muenchehagen on Friday. Knowing that I have only a couple of more weeks with these children, I accepted the role of Hapless Chaperon No. 4, thus concluding a day full of improvisation and minimal dino-stomping.
But was this to be the end of unexpected occurrences, which is a ridiculously long title to keep typing out? No, of course not, for this is my work, and my work is full of these things. That morning, as I came into the teacher's lounge, I noticed on the substitute's plan that I was scheduled to work with 4c for four hours (Unexpected Occurrence No. 5). The woman who plans these things told me I was to help with art, so I (grudgingly) trudged upstairs to deal with GKH's most difficult class, thinking grumble-y thoughts and darker forms of punishment for unruly German children.
Elisabeth was already there, working with the students on an Erinnerungsbuch, or memory book. In the fourth class, many things go on with the students, as this is the grade where they learn which of the three schools they will attend: Gymnasium, Realschule, or Hauptschule (ranking from best to worst), which will essentially affect what kind of jobs they will be able to get when they graduate, or if they'll be able to realistically go to university. My students discovered which schools they were going to this past week...which actually makes the rest of the school year kind of pointless, in my opinion. Regardless, this memory book was more of a "dream job" book more than anything, as it just consisted of every student's desired future occupation. As most of these students are going to Realschule, I really do hope that they will be able to eventually upgrade to Gymnasium, as many want to become doctors and the like (considering if this was not just a cop-out job for those who were lazy).
So, why was I there? To help binding these said books. Who doesn't know the binding techniques that these students learned in their textile class? This E.T.A. Not to worry, though; mainly, I was there to keep the class in check and be available when there were questions about the other stages of the book-making process, along with being there to chat with Elisabeth as she vented out her frustrations concerning that gosh-darn 4c: the class everyone loves to hate.
I feel sorry for them, really. The kids are fine, but as a whole...they are not fun to teach. They are sarcastic (mockingly, not endearingly, so), loud, and slower on the uptake, and the main reason my coworkers give is because these students come from "a different level of society." This makes me uncomfortable, and I'm sure my faithful followers can imagine why. And I think that because their teachers--every single one of them I've talked to about them--have this sort of attitude toward them, the students naturally live up to this expectation. Six of the twenty students are going to Gymnasium, but that's partially because their teachers had that expectation for those particular students from the beginning, I'm guessing. But, getting back on track, the kids like me well enough, and they have fun chattering to me and learning random bits of (clean) English.
As they were finishing up their books, I noticed that Elisabeth told Gianna to make another one, which the latter dutifully spent the rest of the time making. I had a feeling what was coming, so this doesn't count as Unexpected Occurrence No. 6; she had made a book for me, and all of the students had signed the front page. It was presented to me at the end of the day.
No, this wasn't Unexpected Occurrence No. 6, but here's what was.
They got up and sang me a song about being underway. About leaving and saying goodbye. And they did it without mocking me, or anything like that.
That was perhaps the most unexpected thing this past week.
Sure, the sendoff was a bit early, since I don't leave for three weeks. But, it was sweet all the same. And though I know they'll be back to being little hellions for the next couple of weeks, I'm okay with that. They are what they were expected to be, and I can't take their memory back with me with any resentment because of that. Sure, I'll still moan and groan about them, but they are good kids. And I wish them luck in the future, when (or if, rather) they look back on their Erinnerungsbuch and see if they have become what they initially set off to be.
Whew, this is a longer post than I had intended. I think it would be better if I reserved the Dino-Park extravaganza for a separate post, just so my two fans can breathe a bit. Be back shortly.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Unterwegs...Wieder
Hello, everyone!
I'm going to England tomorrow!
...Providing that I don't miss my flight!
Actually, this last bit shouldn't be a problem. The main source of anxiety lies in the fact that my flight leaves Hamburg at 10:20 in the morning (ideally; this is Easy Jet, people, and we all know the lack of punctuality that is invisibly stated in its terms and conditions). This is actually quite a bit later than Monday's flight, which leaves around 7:00 in the morning. Celle is one hour away from the Hamburg Hautpbahnhof by IC train, and I'll have to tack on about twenty-five more minutes to get to the airport by S-Bahn. If I take the 7:15 train, then I should be fine.
But, though I gripe and whine about the flight times, it's completely worth it. I get to see my relatives again.
Those of you who read my rather lengthy update about the last time I was in England know how much I'm looking forward to seeing everyone again, one last time before I head back to the States at the end of June. And I'm very glad that I am going to see my relatives twice, instead of a one-time gig, and this time will be special because I hope to see Marion perform in The Magic Flute. To see her perform will certainly be a treat (and will be recorded faithfully on this blog sometime within the next month or three--see how on top of things I've become).
And now that I have their address, the nice, meek people at customs will not try to detain me for being a rather short terrorist. Notice I typed "try."
Hmm. You know, let's do a "normal" blog post. Some little tidbits about my life...
I Wanna be a Real Substitute
A few weeks ago, my coworker Elisabeth told me that she would be a bit late to class the following day because of a doctor's appointment and asked me to head the class on my own for five to ten minutes. I consented because 1. it's 2c, a good class and 2. I've begun the class without her several times before. However, I had a nagging voice in my head; there is always potential for unplanned occurrences at my school, and I knew that I should come prepared for an entire lesson, if Elisabeth couldn't make it to the class at all. Being the lazy, eh-I'll-improvise-the-whole-thing person that I am, I briefly calculated what I could do in such a circumstance and probably took a nap after work. I'm a fascinating person, don't 'cha know.
Wednesday morning rolled around, and I made my way to 2c after the second bell had rung. I started the class with the standard "hey-it's-really-early,-so-let's-sing-a-song" routine, singing "Spring is Coming," or something like that. (Spring, by the way, has yet to come in Germany, so this is kind of an unintentionally cruel joke on everyone involved.) I went over the different flowers that we had been learning, adding a bit of repetition with colors, etc. Ten minutes rolled by, and, of course, there was no Elisabeth.
My intuition and foresight are awesome. My ability to not take action completely is, too, surprisingly enough.
What I mean to say is that even though I only briefly considered a backup plan, what I did plan worked. The couple of weeks before, when I was serving as the main substitute for Suzana's classes, I had used the story, We Are Going on a Bear Hunt, for the lessons in 4a, which had gone swimmingly. In fact, as a surprise, I had assigned the kids parts and had them draw their scenarios--grass, river, mud, snowstorm, and cave--for when we recited the entire story from memory to Suzana upon her return. But since I knew that this activity would be far too much for second grade English, I merely taught the kids in 2c the story, which goes like this:
We are going on a bear hunt.
We are not afraid!
We have got a gun
And a sharp knife, too. Uhh!
Shh! What's that?
Oh, grass... Long, wavy grass...
We can't go over it;
We can't go under it.
We must go through it!
(Swishy, swashy...)
Same thing with river, etc., until we come across the bear in the cave, and then we go through the story backwards to get back to the house.
You can imagine how this would be a little difficult, yet fun. In the second grade, I was the one to be doing the translating, so when I got to the sharp knife bit...
Sarah: Oh, das ist gefaehrlich! Ich hab' Angst.
Oh, Kinder.
Anyway, the kids rather enjoyed the impromptu lesson, and we were able to go through the story twice, with stops every now and then to make sure that the kids understood what they were actually saying. And kids always like it when they're included in a story, so breaking them up into groups during the second try was fun for them (and when I made Indro the bear). So, all in all, it was a successful lesson on my part. And one of the neatest aspects? I did this all by myself, without another teacher in the room. Technically, we're not allowed to do that, but I don't care. The kids were well-behaved for me; my German instructions weren't perfect, but they were understood; and there was laughter. That, my friends, makes for a decent lesson.
Schlechtes Wetter and the Lessons It Brings
Another teaching story occurred today, oddly enough. I hadn't actually prepared a lesson in awhile (I think since The Mitten), and I had been feeling a little guilty because of it...and the fact that I was once again asking for a couple of days off in order to travel. Honestly, I haven't asked for many days off outside of sick days, but it's still lame because I miss some of the classes and therefore don't participate as much. So, I suggested to my boss that I do a lesson based on the very first bit of Dr. Seuss's The Cat in the Hat, over the rainy weather. She enthusiastically consented, and we set about, via email exchange, what activity we were to have the students in 2a do. It ended up being a house whose doors would open up to the kids looking out the window, which the students were to paste inside. The challenge, though, lay in the fact that the children also had to arrange the rhyme in the right order.
Okay, so it's not really a challenge. But the kids liked it. And considering the fact that it was a rainy, cold, and miserable day, it really was the perfect setting for such a lesson.
And I am really impressed with how rapidly Emily is picking up English. She and Dylan are my little go-to people for translation.
It always makes me feel accomplished when I do command my own lesson, even when the teacher is in the classroom. I'm actively contributing to the class, and I believe that it also lets my coworkers know that I'm not just filling up space in the room. And though I did lose a connection with some classes when Karolin inherited them (I say "inherited" because she had to take over some classes for her Refendarin requirements, which is good), I maintain a very steady relationship with the students because I'm an active part of their English lessons. And they really like it. In retrospect, I probably could have done some things a little better, at least at the first of the school year. However, it's all part of the learning process, and I'm quite impressed with myself that I didn't make any huge blunders all throughout. In fact, I have done amazingly well. Way to go, me.
So, I hope that will tide things over while I am in England. Though I will have my computer with me throughout the trip, I'll be using it mainly for email and reading purposes. Who knows when I'll update about this future trip, as I haven't even discussed Madrid, Barcelona, and Baden-Wurttemberg from Osterferien? I, er, need to get on that, stat. But, in the meantime, here; have a normal blog post.
I'm going to England tomorrow!
...Providing that I don't miss my flight!
Actually, this last bit shouldn't be a problem. The main source of anxiety lies in the fact that my flight leaves Hamburg at 10:20 in the morning (ideally; this is Easy Jet, people, and we all know the lack of punctuality that is invisibly stated in its terms and conditions). This is actually quite a bit later than Monday's flight, which leaves around 7:00 in the morning. Celle is one hour away from the Hamburg Hautpbahnhof by IC train, and I'll have to tack on about twenty-five more minutes to get to the airport by S-Bahn. If I take the 7:15 train, then I should be fine.
But, though I gripe and whine about the flight times, it's completely worth it. I get to see my relatives again.
Those of you who read my rather lengthy update about the last time I was in England know how much I'm looking forward to seeing everyone again, one last time before I head back to the States at the end of June. And I'm very glad that I am going to see my relatives twice, instead of a one-time gig, and this time will be special because I hope to see Marion perform in The Magic Flute. To see her perform will certainly be a treat (and will be recorded faithfully on this blog sometime within the next month or three--see how on top of things I've become).
And now that I have their address, the nice, meek people at customs will not try to detain me for being a rather short terrorist. Notice I typed "try."
Hmm. You know, let's do a "normal" blog post. Some little tidbits about my life...
I Wanna be a Real Substitute
A few weeks ago, my coworker Elisabeth told me that she would be a bit late to class the following day because of a doctor's appointment and asked me to head the class on my own for five to ten minutes. I consented because 1. it's 2c, a good class and 2. I've begun the class without her several times before. However, I had a nagging voice in my head; there is always potential for unplanned occurrences at my school, and I knew that I should come prepared for an entire lesson, if Elisabeth couldn't make it to the class at all. Being the lazy, eh-I'll-improvise-the-whole-thing person that I am, I briefly calculated what I could do in such a circumstance and probably took a nap after work. I'm a fascinating person, don't 'cha know.
Wednesday morning rolled around, and I made my way to 2c after the second bell had rung. I started the class with the standard "hey-it's-really-early,-so-let's-sing-a-song" routine, singing "Spring is Coming," or something like that. (Spring, by the way, has yet to come in Germany, so this is kind of an unintentionally cruel joke on everyone involved.) I went over the different flowers that we had been learning, adding a bit of repetition with colors, etc. Ten minutes rolled by, and, of course, there was no Elisabeth.
My intuition and foresight are awesome. My ability to not take action completely is, too, surprisingly enough.
What I mean to say is that even though I only briefly considered a backup plan, what I did plan worked. The couple of weeks before, when I was serving as the main substitute for Suzana's classes, I had used the story, We Are Going on a Bear Hunt, for the lessons in 4a, which had gone swimmingly. In fact, as a surprise, I had assigned the kids parts and had them draw their scenarios--grass, river, mud, snowstorm, and cave--for when we recited the entire story from memory to Suzana upon her return. But since I knew that this activity would be far too much for second grade English, I merely taught the kids in 2c the story, which goes like this:
We are going on a bear hunt.
We are not afraid!
We have got a gun
And a sharp knife, too. Uhh!
Shh! What's that?
Oh, grass... Long, wavy grass...
We can't go over it;
We can't go under it.
We must go through it!
(Swishy, swashy...)
Same thing with river, etc., until we come across the bear in the cave, and then we go through the story backwards to get back to the house.
You can imagine how this would be a little difficult, yet fun. In the second grade, I was the one to be doing the translating, so when I got to the sharp knife bit...
Sarah: Oh, das ist gefaehrlich! Ich hab' Angst.
Oh, Kinder.
Anyway, the kids rather enjoyed the impromptu lesson, and we were able to go through the story twice, with stops every now and then to make sure that the kids understood what they were actually saying. And kids always like it when they're included in a story, so breaking them up into groups during the second try was fun for them (and when I made Indro the bear). So, all in all, it was a successful lesson on my part. And one of the neatest aspects? I did this all by myself, without another teacher in the room. Technically, we're not allowed to do that, but I don't care. The kids were well-behaved for me; my German instructions weren't perfect, but they were understood; and there was laughter. That, my friends, makes for a decent lesson.
Schlechtes Wetter and the Lessons It Brings
Another teaching story occurred today, oddly enough. I hadn't actually prepared a lesson in awhile (I think since The Mitten), and I had been feeling a little guilty because of it...and the fact that I was once again asking for a couple of days off in order to travel. Honestly, I haven't asked for many days off outside of sick days, but it's still lame because I miss some of the classes and therefore don't participate as much. So, I suggested to my boss that I do a lesson based on the very first bit of Dr. Seuss's The Cat in the Hat, over the rainy weather. She enthusiastically consented, and we set about, via email exchange, what activity we were to have the students in 2a do. It ended up being a house whose doors would open up to the kids looking out the window, which the students were to paste inside. The challenge, though, lay in the fact that the children also had to arrange the rhyme in the right order.
Okay, so it's not really a challenge. But the kids liked it. And considering the fact that it was a rainy, cold, and miserable day, it really was the perfect setting for such a lesson.
And I am really impressed with how rapidly Emily is picking up English. She and Dylan are my little go-to people for translation.
It always makes me feel accomplished when I do command my own lesson, even when the teacher is in the classroom. I'm actively contributing to the class, and I believe that it also lets my coworkers know that I'm not just filling up space in the room. And though I did lose a connection with some classes when Karolin inherited them (I say "inherited" because she had to take over some classes for her Refendarin requirements, which is good), I maintain a very steady relationship with the students because I'm an active part of their English lessons. And they really like it. In retrospect, I probably could have done some things a little better, at least at the first of the school year. However, it's all part of the learning process, and I'm quite impressed with myself that I didn't make any huge blunders all throughout. In fact, I have done amazingly well. Way to go, me.
So, I hope that will tide things over while I am in England. Though I will have my computer with me throughout the trip, I'll be using it mainly for email and reading purposes. Who knows when I'll update about this future trip, as I haven't even discussed Madrid, Barcelona, and Baden-Wurttemberg from Osterferien? I, er, need to get on that, stat. But, in the meantime, here; have a normal blog post.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
The Obligatory Pre-Trip Post
It was almost warm enough today to not wear a jacket. Almost. Spring. Come. Now.
The week tends to fly by when you're not completely ready for something, and that is what has happened this go-round. I'm quite excited about my Easter break, which starts tomorrow afternoon: Maryle and I will head over to Hamburg and perhaps walk around while we wait for our flight to Gatwick airport, where my English relatives will be waiting for us. This is possibly the most exciting aspect of the trip, to me, as I've never met my English relatives, save for when I was very young--too young to remember. They are very kindly offering space for the two of us traveling Cellers until Monday, so I intend to spend my time to the fullest getting to know everyone.
After our stay in Hassocks, Maryle and I will then fly to Lisbon, Madrid, Barcelona, and Stuttgart, spending around two and a half days in each city. I'm a bit nervous about staying in the first three cities, honestly, as I don't speak Portuguese nor Spanish, and we are on our own. Still, the excitement outweighs the nervousness, and I'm pretty much convinced that things will go well. If anything, Maryle and I will get to see the beautiful architecture and culture that is the Mediterranean. We should be back in Celle by April 3rd.
Because of the long break and the many places we'll see, I'm going to try my best to not wait until the trip's end to update this blog. I should have Internet access at the places where I'm staying (providing that my Internet stick works in these areas and does not get stolen), so that shouldn't be too hard. (presses thumbs) Oh, what's that, you say? Pictures? Hell, yes. Those will be posted, too.
Anyway, almost everything is in order. I need to finish packing, send out a few emails, withdraw some money, check in online with the flights, take out the trash, and charge the electronics that I'm taking with me, but those won't take too long. Hooray for actually being responsible.
Though the week has passed by very quickly, it has been enjoyable. 2a once again made my day today, and as I was acting as the substitute (Frau Doehrmann has taken some students from the fourth grade on a class trip to Meudon, France), they behaved themselves rather well. I had prepared a bingo game for them in the form of the animals from The Mitten, which was fun, if loud.
Dylan: (in his very English accent) "Are you from the United States?"
Me: "Why, yes; I am."
Dylan: (nodding very self-satisfactorily) "That's what I thought. Did you know that there are more people in Washington D.C. than in Berlin?" (Which then starts another one of Dylan's Ramblings.)
These children are also very clingy. Or, perhaps I'm just a kid magnet. So many hugs today... Unbelievable.
One more class, and then Osterferien.
The week tends to fly by when you're not completely ready for something, and that is what has happened this go-round. I'm quite excited about my Easter break, which starts tomorrow afternoon: Maryle and I will head over to Hamburg and perhaps walk around while we wait for our flight to Gatwick airport, where my English relatives will be waiting for us. This is possibly the most exciting aspect of the trip, to me, as I've never met my English relatives, save for when I was very young--too young to remember. They are very kindly offering space for the two of us traveling Cellers until Monday, so I intend to spend my time to the fullest getting to know everyone.
After our stay in Hassocks, Maryle and I will then fly to Lisbon, Madrid, Barcelona, and Stuttgart, spending around two and a half days in each city. I'm a bit nervous about staying in the first three cities, honestly, as I don't speak Portuguese nor Spanish, and we are on our own. Still, the excitement outweighs the nervousness, and I'm pretty much convinced that things will go well. If anything, Maryle and I will get to see the beautiful architecture and culture that is the Mediterranean. We should be back in Celle by April 3rd.
Because of the long break and the many places we'll see, I'm going to try my best to not wait until the trip's end to update this blog. I should have Internet access at the places where I'm staying (providing that my Internet stick works in these areas and does not get stolen), so that shouldn't be too hard. (presses thumbs) Oh, what's that, you say? Pictures? Hell, yes. Those will be posted, too.
Anyway, almost everything is in order. I need to finish packing, send out a few emails, withdraw some money, check in online with the flights, take out the trash, and charge the electronics that I'm taking with me, but those won't take too long. Hooray for actually being responsible.
Though the week has passed by very quickly, it has been enjoyable. 2a once again made my day today, and as I was acting as the substitute (Frau Doehrmann has taken some students from the fourth grade on a class trip to Meudon, France), they behaved themselves rather well. I had prepared a bingo game for them in the form of the animals from The Mitten, which was fun, if loud.
Dylan: (in his very English accent) "Are you from the United States?"
Me: "Why, yes; I am."
Dylan: (nodding very self-satisfactorily) "That's what I thought. Did you know that there are more people in Washington D.C. than in Berlin?" (Which then starts another one of Dylan's Ramblings.)
These children are also very clingy. Or, perhaps I'm just a kid magnet. So many hugs today... Unbelievable.
One more class, and then Osterferien.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
"Du siehst immer gut aus."
Here are some tidbits from work over the past few weeks. Alone, they didn't particularly merit an entire post, but I've been wanting to record them, since they are special to me (and perhaps only to me, but this is my blog, and I'll gush if I want to).
Cloth-es
"Clothes" appears to be quite a difficult word for non-native English speakers. Though I didn't have the opportunity to try out this term when working with my beloved IEP students a couple of years (!) ago, I've discovered this through just being at the Grundschule. Elisabeth speaks English very well, and her accent is also quite good. However, this one word continues to plague not just her, but many of the teachers with whom I work, pronouncing it "cloth-es." And every time I'm asked to correct her, I can't quite get my point across: that the "e" is essentially silent, and the "th" and the "s" are very subtly pronounced. It's the same problem I have with, say, "Totenkopfäffchen" (squirrel monkey), only not. Really, I just have a hard time pronouncing that.
Anyway, two weeks ago we went over clothes in 2c, a class I very much enjoy teaching. The children are sweet and amusing, in an offbeat way. Anna-Marie usually pounces when I arrive, disconcertingly making what very much sound like cub noises while doing so. Felix shyly gets most of the questions right; Sarah is generally loud-mouthed, but she's extremely quick at learning English and is incredibly sweet. Poor Katharina, the American-born girl who therefore knows English, is always bored...and so forth. So many children to write about, and so little time...
Okay, yes, clothes. When teaching the theme, Elisabeth pointed toward my clothes and gave the English name for them. (I had decided to wear a dress that day, and this was the beginning of a string of compliments. Never mind that it was because all of my jeans were dirty.) As an activity, Elisabeth gave the kids a worksheet of an unclothed, gender-neutral child, and they had to draw in and color clothes. The cute thing about this? One girl, Saskia, drew me. All together now: Aaaaaaaaaawwwww. This week, Sarah showed me her worksheet, which also depicted me. I smiled, but she felt she had to clarify: "Das ist du!"*
*A note on the use of Sie and du: "Sie" is the formal version of "you" singular; for instance, I use "Sie" (always with a capital "S") when talking to Frau Doehrmann, as it is a sign of respect to elders, strangers, and people of higher rank, such as a boss. "Du" is the informal "you" singular, and family members, friends, and people one's own age use this version. Yes, some children refer to me as "du." Why does this not bother me, and why do I not see it as a sign of disrespect? I am not their teacher, and they are comfortable enough around me to view me as someone a bit closer to them. And, yes, they do respect me. I can command a classroom, if need be.
Rapping Kinder
So, as aforementioned, I did a lot of subbing a couple of weeks ago for Suzana. Last week in 3b, I went over the homework I had assigned, which was over Eric Carle's Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? This was supposed to finish the theme, so it came as a surprise that Suzana looked furtively at the class and asked them whether they should now do their "surprise" for me. Slightly bewildered, I watched the kidlets of 3b rap to the story. Yes, that's right. My kids rapped. To Brown Bear. My life. What is it. Regardless, it brought about much-needed laughter to my day, particularly watching Vedat and David really getting into the groove. Germany, represent.
Plant Allergies and the Drama They Bring
Last Wednesday. Oh, last Wednesday. After an enjoyable lesson with 2c, I went back to the teacher's room to get ready for my class with 3c (another lovely class, by the way). Elisabeth and I found Suzana at her place, practically crying. At first, I thought that her class with 4a had somehow gone horribly awry...but it turned out that a plant to which Suzana is allergic had been placed in 3c's classroom. Though Suzana had spotted it the day before and had asked the homeroom teacher to remove it, the plant had remained there the day after. So, of course, that added to everything. As she and I were waiting for the class to be relocated to the kindergartners' room, Suzana explained to me that it strains her heart and really upstarts her allergies. She was so affected by the entire ordeal (let's remember that this is Suzana) that the lesson with 3c was a little awkward. But, the kids were understanding and their usual good selves, so it wasn't as awkward as it could have been.
Hugs in Slow Motion = Awesome
So, upon exiting the building last Thursday, 2a's Lia, Martha, and Linda closed in on me in one giant, gentle, slow-mo hug. Awesome.
Okay, so there's nothing to that, but I just thought it was amusing. Just picture that in your mind.
Okay! So, we're up to date! Right?
Well, technically, yes. Except that I want to talk about today in detail. So, I guess you're going to have to keep reading.
Today was a Good Day. Why? Well, it started off with a special needs student from 3a, whom I haven't really seen since I first started working here, approach me with a hug. I have no idea why. Well, I do, since she has "odd" behavioral issues, but that's not the point.
Other than that little tidbit, the first half of the morning passed without anything interesting enough to mention. However, my class with 2a was lovely. I had spent since Friday preparing for this lesson, which was about the old Ukranian folktale, The Mitten. Frau Doehrmann and I (mostly Frau Doehrmann, I'll admit) came up with a unique activity for the students, and since pictures are sometimes better than words, here are some snapshots of what I created:
Now, 2a had not been the best for a few weeks; they had been too loud and just a bit unruly. But today was great. They behaved themselves while I went over the flash cards and paid attention to my simplified version of the story. And even before I started the story, Frau Doehrmann asked if she could tell them "just who drew these great pictures," and the children were once again very impressed by my drawing skills. (Nele even suggested that I'd be a great artist.) Yes, that is the sound of my ego inflating, thank you very much. The kids enjoyed their activity, and they felt that they needed to show me their handiwork.
(What has happened to that curmudgeonly young woman of yesteryear, to have her heart melted by paper mittens and squish-hugs from children? Don't worry; she's still there, and with a vengeance. These kids have merited my undying affection for a reason, and that's because they've taken in a person who doesn't even know the language that well and has made her one of their own. And I can't express how much that means to me. When they're good, anyway.)
By the way, Dylan has a way of making my brain go from, "I am an intelligent human being!" to, "OHMYGODTHISKIDISSOCUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUTE." And I can say that with a straight face. As I was helping him cut out the animals, he proceeded to inform me, "Sometimes I can be extra-ORD-inarily slow!" and then tell me about his entire morning routine and random facts about animals. This kid is going places.
After a rocky hour with 3a (I pretty much just sit in on this class now, since Karolin needs to work mainly alone for her exams), I started home when my neighbor, Steffi, motioned me over to her car and asked, in English, whether I'd like a ride home. (Steffi's daughter, Josephine, is in 3a.) I responded positively in German, and we started talking as we waited for Josephine. After a little bit of speaking in both languages, she expressed with surprise, "You speak great German!", and we then spoke only German on the way back to the house. Why is this worthy of mention? Well, I hadn't really talked to Steffi since September, though we would always say hi or wave when we saw each other in passing. To have a very enjoyable conversation with her with only small mistakes in German impressed the both of us, and I do hope to talk to her even more after Easter break. It's easy to talk to her, and I feel more secure in my German now. Yay!
Okay, take a deep breath. We are done here, for now. Next Thursday is the beginning of our big Easter break, which means Maryle and I will be on our way to England to visit my family there (yay, excitement!). It's all going by so quickly.
So, so quickly.
Cloth-es
"Clothes" appears to be quite a difficult word for non-native English speakers. Though I didn't have the opportunity to try out this term when working with my beloved IEP students a couple of years (!) ago, I've discovered this through just being at the Grundschule. Elisabeth speaks English very well, and her accent is also quite good. However, this one word continues to plague not just her, but many of the teachers with whom I work, pronouncing it "cloth-es." And every time I'm asked to correct her, I can't quite get my point across: that the "e" is essentially silent, and the "th" and the "s" are very subtly pronounced. It's the same problem I have with, say, "Totenkopfäffchen" (squirrel monkey), only not. Really, I just have a hard time pronouncing that.
Anyway, two weeks ago we went over clothes in 2c, a class I very much enjoy teaching. The children are sweet and amusing, in an offbeat way. Anna-Marie usually pounces when I arrive, disconcertingly making what very much sound like cub noises while doing so. Felix shyly gets most of the questions right; Sarah is generally loud-mouthed, but she's extremely quick at learning English and is incredibly sweet. Poor Katharina, the American-born girl who therefore knows English, is always bored...and so forth. So many children to write about, and so little time...
Okay, yes, clothes. When teaching the theme, Elisabeth pointed toward my clothes and gave the English name for them. (I had decided to wear a dress that day, and this was the beginning of a string of compliments. Never mind that it was because all of my jeans were dirty.) As an activity, Elisabeth gave the kids a worksheet of an unclothed, gender-neutral child, and they had to draw in and color clothes. The cute thing about this? One girl, Saskia, drew me. All together now: Aaaaaaaaaawwwww. This week, Sarah showed me her worksheet, which also depicted me. I smiled, but she felt she had to clarify: "Das ist du!"*
*A note on the use of Sie and du: "Sie" is the formal version of "you" singular; for instance, I use "Sie" (always with a capital "S") when talking to Frau Doehrmann, as it is a sign of respect to elders, strangers, and people of higher rank, such as a boss. "Du" is the informal "you" singular, and family members, friends, and people one's own age use this version. Yes, some children refer to me as "du." Why does this not bother me, and why do I not see it as a sign of disrespect? I am not their teacher, and they are comfortable enough around me to view me as someone a bit closer to them. And, yes, they do respect me. I can command a classroom, if need be.
Rapping Kinder
So, as aforementioned, I did a lot of subbing a couple of weeks ago for Suzana. Last week in 3b, I went over the homework I had assigned, which was over Eric Carle's Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? This was supposed to finish the theme, so it came as a surprise that Suzana looked furtively at the class and asked them whether they should now do their "surprise" for me. Slightly bewildered, I watched the kidlets of 3b rap to the story. Yes, that's right. My kids rapped. To Brown Bear. My life. What is it. Regardless, it brought about much-needed laughter to my day, particularly watching Vedat and David really getting into the groove. Germany, represent.
Plant Allergies and the Drama They Bring
Last Wednesday. Oh, last Wednesday. After an enjoyable lesson with 2c, I went back to the teacher's room to get ready for my class with 3c (another lovely class, by the way). Elisabeth and I found Suzana at her place, practically crying. At first, I thought that her class with 4a had somehow gone horribly awry...but it turned out that a plant to which Suzana is allergic had been placed in 3c's classroom. Though Suzana had spotted it the day before and had asked the homeroom teacher to remove it, the plant had remained there the day after. So, of course, that added to everything. As she and I were waiting for the class to be relocated to the kindergartners' room, Suzana explained to me that it strains her heart and really upstarts her allergies. She was so affected by the entire ordeal (let's remember that this is Suzana) that the lesson with 3c was a little awkward. But, the kids were understanding and their usual good selves, so it wasn't as awkward as it could have been.
Hugs in Slow Motion = Awesome
So, upon exiting the building last Thursday, 2a's Lia, Martha, and Linda closed in on me in one giant, gentle, slow-mo hug. Awesome.
Okay, so there's nothing to that, but I just thought it was amusing. Just picture that in your mind.
Okay! So, we're up to date! Right?
Well, technically, yes. Except that I want to talk about today in detail. So, I guess you're going to have to keep reading.
Today was a Good Day. Why? Well, it started off with a special needs student from 3a, whom I haven't really seen since I first started working here, approach me with a hug. I have no idea why. Well, I do, since she has "odd" behavioral issues, but that's not the point.
Other than that little tidbit, the first half of the morning passed without anything interesting enough to mention. However, my class with 2a was lovely. I had spent since Friday preparing for this lesson, which was about the old Ukranian folktale, The Mitten. Frau Doehrmann and I (mostly Frau Doehrmann, I'll admit) came up with a unique activity for the students, and since pictures are sometimes better than words, here are some snapshots of what I created:
Now, 2a had not been the best for a few weeks; they had been too loud and just a bit unruly. But today was great. They behaved themselves while I went over the flash cards and paid attention to my simplified version of the story. And even before I started the story, Frau Doehrmann asked if she could tell them "just who drew these great pictures," and the children were once again very impressed by my drawing skills. (Nele even suggested that I'd be a great artist.) Yes, that is the sound of my ego inflating, thank you very much. The kids enjoyed their activity, and they felt that they needed to show me their handiwork.
(What has happened to that curmudgeonly young woman of yesteryear, to have her heart melted by paper mittens and squish-hugs from children? Don't worry; she's still there, and with a vengeance. These kids have merited my undying affection for a reason, and that's because they've taken in a person who doesn't even know the language that well and has made her one of their own. And I can't express how much that means to me. When they're good, anyway.)
By the way, Dylan has a way of making my brain go from, "I am an intelligent human being!" to, "OHMYGODTHISKIDISSOCUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUTE." And I can say that with a straight face. As I was helping him cut out the animals, he proceeded to inform me, "Sometimes I can be extra-ORD-inarily slow!" and then tell me about his entire morning routine and random facts about animals. This kid is going places.
After a rocky hour with 3a (I pretty much just sit in on this class now, since Karolin needs to work mainly alone for her exams), I started home when my neighbor, Steffi, motioned me over to her car and asked, in English, whether I'd like a ride home. (Steffi's daughter, Josephine, is in 3a.) I responded positively in German, and we started talking as we waited for Josephine. After a little bit of speaking in both languages, she expressed with surprise, "You speak great German!", and we then spoke only German on the way back to the house. Why is this worthy of mention? Well, I hadn't really talked to Steffi since September, though we would always say hi or wave when we saw each other in passing. To have a very enjoyable conversation with her with only small mistakes in German impressed the both of us, and I do hope to talk to her even more after Easter break. It's easy to talk to her, and I feel more secure in my German now. Yay!
Okay, take a deep breath. We are done here, for now. Next Thursday is the beginning of our big Easter break, which means Maryle and I will be on our way to England to visit my family there (yay, excitement!). It's all going by so quickly.
So, so quickly.
Monday, March 1, 2010
February, gone already?
Buh? When the hell did March appear? Yes, the correct answer is "today," but I won't hear it. I'm still wondering where January went.
February was an eventful month, at least on the Jen scale of events. Immediately after my return from Brussels, I fell ill and missed two days of work before returning for a day and a half...and then being sent home that half-day because I had a terrible coughing spell that almost met an unhappy end during my class with 3c. So, two and a half more days missed. After much prodding from my family and friends online and off, I swallowed my pride and visited an Apotheke. The Loewen Apotheke in the Altstadt, to be exact, and the rather helpful pharmacists gave me a vial of cough syrup to fight against Bronchitis. Yay. Bronchitis. It's no fun being sick. (As I'm certain most of you know, unless you have an immune system of steel. In which case, I'd like to punch you.)
As a lingering result, though, I've had a difficult time sleeping since then. I've purchased one of the many "doctor-approved" herbal teas here in Germany (Schlaf- und Nerven Tee), so we'll see if that helps at all.
When I did return to work 80% healthy, I received a very pleasant surprise. As I was preparing for class with Suzana, Petra, the homeroom teacher for 3b, hurried over to me and said that she had a birthday gift. I was confused, particularly since I do not work with her, but we had always been on good terms. I waited until I got home to open the gift, and I was delighted to find a beautiful necklace of fake pearl and light green ribbon. The next day, as Suzana and I chatted during our break, I found that Petra wanted to give me something that left a more permanent impression of my stay here than, say, a plant. So, she got her neighbor to make me a necklace. I'm amazed at her generosity and at the fact that the necklace is just my style. I have nice coworkers.
Barring the adventure with Marcel (who keeps changing places on me, by the way; I refuse to acknowledge that I may have multiple spiders) and the horrible UAH shooting, there's not too much more to tell. I ended up subbing for Suzana last Tuesday and Wednesday, which went very well; Kathrin, the substitute, basically just lets me take reign of the classes, so I managed to improvise with each class because of Suzana's lack of lesson plans. Both 3b and 3c behave very well when there's a substitute. 4c, not so much. Overall, though, it was a very positive experience, and it's nice to know that I can take charge of a class if necessary (only with certain classes, though).
I should pat myself on the back for updating about normal life here. The weather is getting better, which makes for a more upbeat me; the snow has melted, the sun is at least trying to shine through the grey clouds, and it's getting warmer. Spring is just around the corner.
February was an eventful month, at least on the Jen scale of events. Immediately after my return from Brussels, I fell ill and missed two days of work before returning for a day and a half...and then being sent home that half-day because I had a terrible coughing spell that almost met an unhappy end during my class with 3c. So, two and a half more days missed. After much prodding from my family and friends online and off, I swallowed my pride and visited an Apotheke. The Loewen Apotheke in the Altstadt, to be exact, and the rather helpful pharmacists gave me a vial of cough syrup to fight against Bronchitis. Yay. Bronchitis. It's no fun being sick. (As I'm certain most of you know, unless you have an immune system of steel. In which case, I'd like to punch you.)
As a lingering result, though, I've had a difficult time sleeping since then. I've purchased one of the many "doctor-approved" herbal teas here in Germany (Schlaf- und Nerven Tee), so we'll see if that helps at all.
When I did return to work 80% healthy, I received a very pleasant surprise. As I was preparing for class with Suzana, Petra, the homeroom teacher for 3b, hurried over to me and said that she had a birthday gift. I was confused, particularly since I do not work with her, but we had always been on good terms. I waited until I got home to open the gift, and I was delighted to find a beautiful necklace of fake pearl and light green ribbon. The next day, as Suzana and I chatted during our break, I found that Petra wanted to give me something that left a more permanent impression of my stay here than, say, a plant. So, she got her neighbor to make me a necklace. I'm amazed at her generosity and at the fact that the necklace is just my style. I have nice coworkers.
Barring the adventure with Marcel (who keeps changing places on me, by the way; I refuse to acknowledge that I may have multiple spiders) and the horrible UAH shooting, there's not too much more to tell. I ended up subbing for Suzana last Tuesday and Wednesday, which went very well; Kathrin, the substitute, basically just lets me take reign of the classes, so I managed to improvise with each class because of Suzana's lack of lesson plans. Both 3b and 3c behave very well when there's a substitute. 4c, not so much. Overall, though, it was a very positive experience, and it's nice to know that I can take charge of a class if necessary (only with certain classes, though).
I should pat myself on the back for updating about normal life here. The weather is getting better, which makes for a more upbeat me; the snow has melted, the sun is at least trying to shine through the grey clouds, and it's getting warmer. Spring is just around the corner.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
A Normal Post About My Normal Life
Well, lookie here; a post that isn't being written right before or after a big trip. Could it be that I'm getting once again into the habit of doing normal, charming posts? I kind of hope so.
So! I've been sick since about Wednesday. After being under self-imposed house arrest (barring groceries runs) from Thursday to Monday, I had to return to work today--not because I was under obligation to do so from the school, but because I knew I would go absolutely insane if I stayed in my flat any longer under such conditions. And a good thing, too, for Frau Doehrmann gave me a little birthday gift on behalf of the school: a plant with pretty-smelling flowers that I hopefully will not brutally murder (I don't have a green thumb) and some really awesome-tasting Stroopwaffeln. Best thing ever? Quite possibly so. Additionally, it was nice chatting with Suzana (yay, I now know how to correctly spell her name) during the break and then working with her on the new schedule.
Yesterday, I unknowingly bought cheese that stinks like smelly dog farts. Muenster cheese is no longer named so, for I have now renamed it Smelly Dog Farts cheese. It's currently stinking up things like nobody's business in my fridge...in an air-tight container, of course.
Also yesterday, Maryle and I have begun the process of planning our big spring break trip: London-Lisbon-Madrid-Barcelona-Basel/Freiburg-and back to Celle. Needless to say, I'm quite excited. I'll let you know how that goes.
Oddly enough, I've taken up drawing again. I started a few nights ago on a pseudo-self portrait, and it turned out pretty well. Maybe it will tide me over until the weather is lovely enough for serious photography.
I know it's a short post, but it feels good not to document a trip or apologize for not having updated. So, here it is: a normal post about my normal life.
So! I've been sick since about Wednesday. After being under self-imposed house arrest (barring groceries runs) from Thursday to Monday, I had to return to work today--not because I was under obligation to do so from the school, but because I knew I would go absolutely insane if I stayed in my flat any longer under such conditions. And a good thing, too, for Frau Doehrmann gave me a little birthday gift on behalf of the school: a plant with pretty-smelling flowers that I hopefully will not brutally murder (I don't have a green thumb) and some really awesome-tasting Stroopwaffeln. Best thing ever? Quite possibly so. Additionally, it was nice chatting with Suzana (yay, I now know how to correctly spell her name) during the break and then working with her on the new schedule.
Yesterday, I unknowingly bought cheese that stinks like smelly dog farts. Muenster cheese is no longer named so, for I have now renamed it Smelly Dog Farts cheese. It's currently stinking up things like nobody's business in my fridge...in an air-tight container, of course.
Also yesterday, Maryle and I have begun the process of planning our big spring break trip: London-Lisbon-Madrid-Barcelona-Basel/Freiburg-and back to Celle. Needless to say, I'm quite excited. I'll let you know how that goes.
Oddly enough, I've taken up drawing again. I started a few nights ago on a pseudo-self portrait, and it turned out pretty well. Maybe it will tide me over until the weather is lovely enough for serious photography.
I know it's a short post, but it feels good not to document a trip or apologize for not having updated. So, here it is: a normal post about my normal life.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
I'm Awesome
You know those days when you feel like you're doing something right? This would be one of those days.
These past couple of days have been a bit strange, and I haven't really been getting enough sleep for the past two weeks...or rather, I've been getting too much. Or, really, a combination of the two. You would think that this would reach a contented equilibrium somewhere in the middle there, but no. It does not. As I prepared to walk home after work, I caught sight of my reflection in the hall mirror and noticed just how run-down I looked. Pretty.
Nevertheless, yes, today was good overall. I had prepared my own lesson for both 1a and 2a, both about Ezra Jack Keats's children's book, The Snowy Day. I created the flashcards from scratch, along with the activity that the children were to work on after I read aloud the story. Honestly, it was a bit rocky with 1a; the class as a whole was unruly, and our special needs student was a bit troublesome as well. Already feeling tired and off-balance before the class, I was looking forward to my two-hour break thereafter. Still, the kids who really like me in 1a were trying to set a good example for the rest of the class, and they did rather enjoy the "treat" of me reading a story to them. Though we didn't get to the activity part, we shall continue with the theme next week.
There is a few minutes during my break that I rather look forward to, and that is talking with Susanne...or, rather, listening to her rant about the students. Susanne is one of my favorite people at the Grundschule Klein Hehlen, simply because she's spirited and, as there is simply no other adjective to describe her, peppery. Today, her rant consisted of the students of 4c, and, through her Czech accent, I notice the aggravation and, yes, concern for these students; they're not the best we have, behavior- and smarts-wise (with a few exceptions), and it drives her batty to have to be hard on them...since it's pretty much the only way to deal with the lot.
The students of 2a were their usual wonderful selves. They were very excited to see me and know that I was going to read them a story. They were very impressed that I had drawn everything from scratch, and Lila in particular had to tell me that I drew very, very well. Many had thought that I had just made copies from a website. (And, yes, that is the sound of my ego inflating.) Dylan was also his usual helpful self, as he is always proud to show off his English skills (as did Emily, who pointed out that her father spoke to her only in English).
My favorites of the day:
Me: (pointing to a flashcard) "What is this again?"
Dylan: "Why, that's a stick! And" (getting up and pointing to the others) "that's a snowsuit, and those are snow angels, and that's a snowball!"
And:
Me: (playing the game 'What's Missing?') "Well, what's missing? Was fehlt?"
Dylan: "Why, the snowsuit is missing, of course!"
Adorable German kidlets make me happy. It also helped that everyone wanted to color the pictures of their mini-books just like I did my flashcards. Oh, Kinder.
Surprisingly, 4c also went well. As I had previously done with 4a Tuesday, I read aloud the story, Winnie the Witch, with great success. I think they're finally warming up to me, or perhaps my narrative performance. It also helped that they understood the story very well...or, at least the "smart" kids who actually volunteered to translate (Susanne's words, not mine). The story itself is very comical, and I must remember to purchase a copy online...
After work, Frau Doehrmann and I had a very nice chat in her office about why I've been so tired, my improved living arrangements, and how things are going with me at the school. And, one of the best parts? 90% of the conversation was in German. As in, not-awkward German. Though this may be a small step, I'm quite proud of myself.
In fact, looking back on everything, I'm very proud of myself. Who would have thought that someone like me would be doing something like this? And be happy? This has gotten me thinking about future plans when I return Stateside. Perhaps an advanced degree in TESOL is the way to go. From my work experience from summer 2008 onward, it just seems...natural. I'm still aimless as to what I'm go to do when I'm out in the Real World (a term a detest), but I know that I have to teach in some form. TESOL, history, literature... I just need to decide.
And I think that my tenure as a Fulbright E.T.A. is helping me with this decision. Thank goodness.
Edit: Oh, I almost forgot! Special thanks to Charlsie for sending me awesome teaching supplies! I've always wanted to try out those foam animal things. Sweet!
These past couple of days have been a bit strange, and I haven't really been getting enough sleep for the past two weeks...or rather, I've been getting too much. Or, really, a combination of the two. You would think that this would reach a contented equilibrium somewhere in the middle there, but no. It does not. As I prepared to walk home after work, I caught sight of my reflection in the hall mirror and noticed just how run-down I looked. Pretty.
Nevertheless, yes, today was good overall. I had prepared my own lesson for both 1a and 2a, both about Ezra Jack Keats's children's book, The Snowy Day. I created the flashcards from scratch, along with the activity that the children were to work on after I read aloud the story. Honestly, it was a bit rocky with 1a; the class as a whole was unruly, and our special needs student was a bit troublesome as well. Already feeling tired and off-balance before the class, I was looking forward to my two-hour break thereafter. Still, the kids who really like me in 1a were trying to set a good example for the rest of the class, and they did rather enjoy the "treat" of me reading a story to them. Though we didn't get to the activity part, we shall continue with the theme next week.
There is a few minutes during my break that I rather look forward to, and that is talking with Susanne...or, rather, listening to her rant about the students. Susanne is one of my favorite people at the Grundschule Klein Hehlen, simply because she's spirited and, as there is simply no other adjective to describe her, peppery. Today, her rant consisted of the students of 4c, and, through her Czech accent, I notice the aggravation and, yes, concern for these students; they're not the best we have, behavior- and smarts-wise (with a few exceptions), and it drives her batty to have to be hard on them...since it's pretty much the only way to deal with the lot.
The students of 2a were their usual wonderful selves. They were very excited to see me and know that I was going to read them a story. They were very impressed that I had drawn everything from scratch, and Lila in particular had to tell me that I drew very, very well. Many had thought that I had just made copies from a website. (And, yes, that is the sound of my ego inflating.) Dylan was also his usual helpful self, as he is always proud to show off his English skills (as did Emily, who pointed out that her father spoke to her only in English).
My favorites of the day:
Me: (pointing to a flashcard) "What is this again?"
Dylan: "Why, that's a stick! And" (getting up and pointing to the others) "that's a snowsuit, and those are snow angels, and that's a snowball!"
And:
Me: (playing the game 'What's Missing?') "Well, what's missing? Was fehlt?"
Dylan: "Why, the snowsuit is missing, of course!"
Adorable German kidlets make me happy. It also helped that everyone wanted to color the pictures of their mini-books just like I did my flashcards. Oh, Kinder.
Surprisingly, 4c also went well. As I had previously done with 4a Tuesday, I read aloud the story, Winnie the Witch, with great success. I think they're finally warming up to me, or perhaps my narrative performance. It also helped that they understood the story very well...or, at least the "smart" kids who actually volunteered to translate (Susanne's words, not mine). The story itself is very comical, and I must remember to purchase a copy online...
After work, Frau Doehrmann and I had a very nice chat in her office about why I've been so tired, my improved living arrangements, and how things are going with me at the school. And, one of the best parts? 90% of the conversation was in German. As in, not-awkward German. Though this may be a small step, I'm quite proud of myself.
In fact, looking back on everything, I'm very proud of myself. Who would have thought that someone like me would be doing something like this? And be happy? This has gotten me thinking about future plans when I return Stateside. Perhaps an advanced degree in TESOL is the way to go. From my work experience from summer 2008 onward, it just seems...natural. I'm still aimless as to what I'm go to do when I'm out in the Real World (a term a detest), but I know that I have to teach in some form. TESOL, history, literature... I just need to decide.
And I think that my tenure as a Fulbright E.T.A. is helping me with this decision. Thank goodness.
Edit: Oh, I almost forgot! Special thanks to Charlsie for sending me awesome teaching supplies! I've always wanted to try out those foam animal things. Sweet!
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Leipzig and Dresden...and a very lazy journalist.
Oh, hey; I have an online journal.
As I look out of my bay window, I see the snowfall beginning anew. It's always a comforting sight: fat, lazy flakes slowly drifting down from the gray evening sky. I wonder how many more inches we'll have by tomorrow morning.
For, yes! We in Celle have quite a bit of snow. Being a Southerner, this is an unfamiliar sight, and I'm enjoying almost every minute of it. Of course, with beautiful snow comes freezing temperatures...and it's kind of hard right now to feel my cheeks.
But, yes! Online journal! Which means that I record events and stuff here! So, as some of you may remember, I had traveled with Maryle to Leipzig and Dresden for the New Year. I may add that this was quite a fun adventure. After riding on regional trains to which one actually can set his/her watch, Maryle and I spent a couple of hours in Leipzig, whereupon we visited the two churches that Bach frequented when he was the head homie of the city. Leipzig, by the way, is a rather musical city, as many composers (and poets, etc., for that matter) did frequent it. The churches themselves were impressive feats of architecture, but the most enjoyable aspect for me was just wandering around this very East German city (well, and finding a very Jen-sized door near the Thomaskirche, which shall be featured in an upcoming MOJ). It was actually refreshing seeing the Ampelmann crossing lights again, along with the very, very East German architecture, somewhat awkwardly working in conjunction with the older parts of the city that were either restored or there first. And though we were not there with any particular agenda, Leipzig is a city that I definitely wouldn't mind seeing again.
After mailing off a postcard from Leipzig (one of our top secret missions, you know), we set off to Dresden, where, upon meeting Maryle's college friend and current Dresden Fulbright scholar, Rachel, we three headed to Rachel's humble (and awesomely hospitable) abode. The night was spent getting to know Rachel a bit, along with setting up bedding and whatnot. I've discovered that I'm actually quite okay with residing in a stranger's place, but that may have been because Rachel seemed like a person I could trust with my well-being, if at least for three nights.
The next day, New Year's Eve, consisted of visiting the art museum, the Gemaeldegalerie Alte Meister...which was, in all honesty, as crowded as an art museum can be. However, I did manage to see two works by Vermeer as well as Raphael's famous work with the little cupids (which is why they're all over Dresden souvenirs). Yes, this is me not being accurate. I will try to fix this later. Upon exiting the museum, I took to what I usually am wont to do: wandering. True, the wandering did not extend to anything too much further than the Frauenkirche (which does resemble a Dalmation, Maryle), but it did its job; I took an ungodly amount of photos of the beauty that is the Altstadt of Dresden. I also should probably post these said photos here, but...I'm...lazy. My apologies.
Upon reuniting with Maryle and Rachel after my brief wanderings (and listening to a rather good street trumpet player), we three trekked over to one of the cinemas to see Avatar in 3D...and dubbed in German. It's not a particularly Oscar-worthy film by far, but it was entertaining, at the very least, watching a pretty film in German. Never mind the thin plot. Plus, the 3D glasses? Pretty awesome. It is a pity that we had to give them up after the feature.
After our German cinematic experience (featuring an...American film), we three took the tram to Rachel's initial home-stay family (two sisters, Jeanette and Dana) for a New Year's Eve gathering. Though it was a bit awkward suddenly introducing ourselves to Germans our own age, it was incredibly nice spending the evening with Dana, Jeanette, and Jeanette's boyfriend, Frank. We played board games, drank champagne, and trekked to the mountain to watch the fireworks have a field day on the Dresden skyline. And I will tell you: everyone and his/her German dog owns and abuses fireworks here. It's...ridiculous and dangerous at the same time. But, upon midnight, we watched the spectacle from an almost-safe standpoint, hugging each other, saying "Happy New Year!" in both German and English, and playing relentlessly with silly string and sparklers. Barring a delayed tram at 2:30 in the morning, it was a fantastic way to start off 2010.
New Year's Day was also a rather fun time, though a lot more relaxed, seeing as we...slept in until about 1:30 in the afternoon. It had snowed that morning, so we three went about the Altstadt again, taking pictures of the snow. After having dinner at an Italian restaurant in the area of the Frauenkirche, we did call it an early night, but only to watch wonderfully bad German (and German-dubbed) television, including Cool Runnings in its not-quite entirety. After bidding farewell to Rachel in the morning, Maryle and I returned to good ol' Celle, and life has gotten back to as normal as it can be here.
For, yes, I started back to work this past Thursday, and by Friday I was pretty much back into routine. The first day passed without too much ado, seeing as 4b and 3a, though fond of me, aren't particularly loving. Friday, though, went much better in that regard, as little Anne-Marie, the adorable cherub of 2c, tackled me upon my entering the room. Additionally, when Lia and Michelle hugged me in the hall, Anne-Marie also had to join in...of course. But, it was what Lia said to me that clinched it: "Martha muss Sie sehen! (or: 'Martha must see you!')" And, rest assured, she did. Apart from having to be a substitute for the Philosophy AG with some problematic fourth graders, it was a good start to getting back to it. Go me.
Phew. I've finally come to the conclusion...of this post, anyway. I don't know what happened, but posting just got away from me. I will, however, be more diligent about my posting henceforth. 'Til next time, duckies (which actually may be very soon).
As I look out of my bay window, I see the snowfall beginning anew. It's always a comforting sight: fat, lazy flakes slowly drifting down from the gray evening sky. I wonder how many more inches we'll have by tomorrow morning.
For, yes! We in Celle have quite a bit of snow. Being a Southerner, this is an unfamiliar sight, and I'm enjoying almost every minute of it. Of course, with beautiful snow comes freezing temperatures...and it's kind of hard right now to feel my cheeks.
But, yes! Online journal! Which means that I record events and stuff here! So, as some of you may remember, I had traveled with Maryle to Leipzig and Dresden for the New Year. I may add that this was quite a fun adventure. After riding on regional trains to which one actually can set his/her watch, Maryle and I spent a couple of hours in Leipzig, whereupon we visited the two churches that Bach frequented when he was the head homie of the city. Leipzig, by the way, is a rather musical city, as many composers (and poets, etc., for that matter) did frequent it. The churches themselves were impressive feats of architecture, but the most enjoyable aspect for me was just wandering around this very East German city (well, and finding a very Jen-sized door near the Thomaskirche, which shall be featured in an upcoming MOJ). It was actually refreshing seeing the Ampelmann crossing lights again, along with the very, very East German architecture, somewhat awkwardly working in conjunction with the older parts of the city that were either restored or there first. And though we were not there with any particular agenda, Leipzig is a city that I definitely wouldn't mind seeing again.
After mailing off a postcard from Leipzig (one of our top secret missions, you know), we set off to Dresden, where, upon meeting Maryle's college friend and current Dresden Fulbright scholar, Rachel, we three headed to Rachel's humble (and awesomely hospitable) abode. The night was spent getting to know Rachel a bit, along with setting up bedding and whatnot. I've discovered that I'm actually quite okay with residing in a stranger's place, but that may have been because Rachel seemed like a person I could trust with my well-being, if at least for three nights.
The next day, New Year's Eve, consisted of visiting the art museum, the Gemaeldegalerie Alte Meister...which was, in all honesty, as crowded as an art museum can be. However, I did manage to see two works by Vermeer as well as Raphael's famous work with the little cupids (which is why they're all over Dresden souvenirs). Yes, this is me not being accurate. I will try to fix this later. Upon exiting the museum, I took to what I usually am wont to do: wandering. True, the wandering did not extend to anything too much further than the Frauenkirche (which does resemble a Dalmation, Maryle), but it did its job; I took an ungodly amount of photos of the beauty that is the Altstadt of Dresden. I also should probably post these said photos here, but...I'm...lazy. My apologies.
Upon reuniting with Maryle and Rachel after my brief wanderings (and listening to a rather good street trumpet player), we three trekked over to one of the cinemas to see Avatar in 3D...and dubbed in German. It's not a particularly Oscar-worthy film by far, but it was entertaining, at the very least, watching a pretty film in German. Never mind the thin plot. Plus, the 3D glasses? Pretty awesome. It is a pity that we had to give them up after the feature.
After our German cinematic experience (featuring an...American film), we three took the tram to Rachel's initial home-stay family (two sisters, Jeanette and Dana) for a New Year's Eve gathering. Though it was a bit awkward suddenly introducing ourselves to Germans our own age, it was incredibly nice spending the evening with Dana, Jeanette, and Jeanette's boyfriend, Frank. We played board games, drank champagne, and trekked to the mountain to watch the fireworks have a field day on the Dresden skyline. And I will tell you: everyone and his/her German dog owns and abuses fireworks here. It's...ridiculous and dangerous at the same time. But, upon midnight, we watched the spectacle from an almost-safe standpoint, hugging each other, saying "Happy New Year!" in both German and English, and playing relentlessly with silly string and sparklers. Barring a delayed tram at 2:30 in the morning, it was a fantastic way to start off 2010.
New Year's Day was also a rather fun time, though a lot more relaxed, seeing as we...slept in until about 1:30 in the afternoon. It had snowed that morning, so we three went about the Altstadt again, taking pictures of the snow. After having dinner at an Italian restaurant in the area of the Frauenkirche, we did call it an early night, but only to watch wonderfully bad German (and German-dubbed) television, including Cool Runnings in its not-quite entirety. After bidding farewell to Rachel in the morning, Maryle and I returned to good ol' Celle, and life has gotten back to as normal as it can be here.
For, yes, I started back to work this past Thursday, and by Friday I was pretty much back into routine. The first day passed without too much ado, seeing as 4b and 3a, though fond of me, aren't particularly loving. Friday, though, went much better in that regard, as little Anne-Marie, the adorable cherub of 2c, tackled me upon my entering the room. Additionally, when Lia and Michelle hugged me in the hall, Anne-Marie also had to join in...of course. But, it was what Lia said to me that clinched it: "Martha muss Sie sehen! (or: 'Martha must see you!')" And, rest assured, she did. Apart from having to be a substitute for the Philosophy AG with some problematic fourth graders, it was a good start to getting back to it. Go me.
Phew. I've finally come to the conclusion...of this post, anyway. I don't know what happened, but posting just got away from me. I will, however, be more diligent about my posting henceforth. 'Til next time, duckies (which actually may be very soon).
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
A Whirlwind of (Christmas) Events
Well, what an interesting (and busy) few days it has been. And I mean this in a good way. Of course, this also means that another long post is in order.
A Sushi Thanksgiving in Celle
Saturday was a rather enjoyable day, as the Trio from Hannover paid Maryle and me a visit for a sort of late Thanksgiving sushi lunch and a tour of Celle. Everything went quite well, barring bus confusion and walking from the Bahnhof to the Altstadt (which is not a bad jaunt at all), and I think Bill, Patrick, and Sara enjoyed my quaint little town. I feel like a bad friend, though, since this was the first time I had been to Maryle's place, but she was a gracious hostess and a good sushi cook, so it evened out. After sampling some Feuerzangenbowle (a holiday drink much like Gluehwein, but with a sugar lump soaked in rum and set aflame above the mixing bowl) and roaming the streets of the Weihnachtsmarkt, the Trio of Hannover departed.
A small digression, which is actually quite wonderful in its awfulness: To start off, I had forgotten to mention that when Maryle and I had our first Gluehwein of the season, we were carded. Do you know what the legal drinking age is here? Sixteen. Yes. So, imagine this scenario this last Saturday: on our search for a not-under ripe avocado for sushi, we encountered a Weihnachtsmann, or Santa Claus, handing out little treats to the children at the Frischmarkt. He bumped into me and offered up his bag. Thinking that he was selling something and not used to the tradition, I politely declined, but he just looked at me like I was crazy and grunted, "Kostenlos!" So, I took a bag of free cookies and got out of the way, and all the while Maryle was giggling. I looked down at the bag. Why, yes--the cookies were indeed for children.
...I do not look like a child. No, I don't. Shut up. Besides, I got cookies, so I'm not complaining too much. Did YOU get cookies? I thought not.
A Sushi Thanksgiving in Celle
Saturday was a rather enjoyable day, as the Trio from Hannover paid Maryle and me a visit for a sort of late Thanksgiving sushi lunch and a tour of Celle. Everything went quite well, barring bus confusion and walking from the Bahnhof to the Altstadt (which is not a bad jaunt at all), and I think Bill, Patrick, and Sara enjoyed my quaint little town. I feel like a bad friend, though, since this was the first time I had been to Maryle's place, but she was a gracious hostess and a good sushi cook, so it evened out. After sampling some Feuerzangenbowle (a holiday drink much like Gluehwein, but with a sugar lump soaked in rum and set aflame above the mixing bowl) and roaming the streets of the Weihnachtsmarkt, the Trio of Hannover departed.
A small digression, which is actually quite wonderful in its awfulness: To start off, I had forgotten to mention that when Maryle and I had our first Gluehwein of the season, we were carded. Do you know what the legal drinking age is here? Sixteen. Yes. So, imagine this scenario this last Saturday: on our search for a not-under ripe avocado for sushi, we encountered a Weihnachtsmann, or Santa Claus, handing out little treats to the children at the Frischmarkt. He bumped into me and offered up his bag. Thinking that he was selling something and not used to the tradition, I politely declined, but he just looked at me like I was crazy and grunted, "Kostenlos!" So, I took a bag of free cookies and got out of the way, and all the while Maryle was giggling. I looked down at the bag. Why, yes--the cookies were indeed for children.
...I do not look like a child. No, I don't. Shut up. Besides, I got cookies, so I'm not complaining too much. Did YOU get cookies? I thought not.
Here, have a picture.
Nikolaustag Surprise
Nikolaustag Surprise
Sunday, as you may know from my previous post, was Nikolaustag, and I had been invited by the host family/landlords to their breakfast. I had thought that, being true to form, this would be an occasion to include more people than their renter, and I had also thought that this would be an opportunity to be awkward once again. But, the morning set off to a good start, for when I opened my door, I discovered--to my surprise, admittedly--a bag of goodies. I had received a sweet little Christmas set, so to say: a holiday mug, some Oriental hot chocolate, Marzipan, liqueur, small candies, and Weihnachtstee. Grateful, though still suspicious, I got ready for breakfast.
Because the guests were late, Tjark, Andrea, and I had a chance to chat, which is a rare occurrence nowadays (because I remained holed up in my room working on lessons or surfing the Net). I discovered that Tjark is changing jobs next year, and though he won't be paid as much as a professor, he'll have more time for his family. We had gotten into a discussion (in German, naturally) about the American school system when the doorbell rang. As Tjark went to answer the door, he turned back and told me in English, "You must speak English today."
Let's establish that I had not known who the guests were to be, and both Tjark and Andrea seemed satisfied that I did not know. I was also wondering why Andrea had placed me between Tjark and Meerit and across from the main guest. Something was up.
And something was, surprisingly enough. It turned out that Tjark had invited a couple of his American coworkers, along with one's wife and child, and that Tjark speaks really good English. Of course. Anyway, I met Limon, Jocelyn, Bryan, and Sammy, Limon and Jocelyn's three year-old son. It was kind of surreal to hear so much English (and American English!) in this particular house, and it was actually...quite nice to chat with complete strangers whose one unifying factor is that we're all from the southern U.S. Tjark did manage to get a little jab in edgewise, of course, saying that while my German is good, I need to speak it more. Which, I readily admit, is true.
As our guests left, I thanked Tjark and Andrea for their surprise. They told me that they "wanted to bring a piece of America to me." So, Happy St. Nicholas Day.
Christmastime at Grundschule Klein Hehlen
Tuesday brought about the English conference at our school, which means I was at the school from before 9:00 to about 6:00 in the evening. Though I didn't really need to be there at all, I managed to draw 22 identical reindeer masks that I had forgotten to do but was for today's lesson in 1a. That was fun, only not really. But, suffice to say, today's lesson in 1a went really well. Everyone liked the masks I had made, but let's just say that when you have 22 high-pitched voices shouting for help the entire period, one can barely think well enough to attach the string to said masks. But, having just been told the story of Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer in English, Nils saw fit to tell me about the "Schneemonster" and when Rudolph and his family got trapped in the monster's cave, etc., etc...all in garbled German, of course. It was a tiresome lesson, but I will admit that it was kind of awesome seeing the kids prance around and wearing their masks.
Afterward, I had my lesson with 2a, but instead of English, they were working on their Christmas play. Their lesson is right after the second Pause of the day, and they were waiting outside for Frau Doehrmann and me. So, as we exited the main building to go over to the other building with the second graders, the entirety of 2a started waving and shouting, "Jenni!" (Is this getting old, yet? Tough shit.), and Jenny broke away from the crowd to give the obligatory hug. The surprising thing of all this was that Dylan also gave me a hug and a big smile. But, it was interesting, to say the least, observing their rehearsal, and it took me back to the days when I had to go through the grueling process of student plays...
Today was also interesting in the fact that Susanne wanted me to read a Christmas story to the "bad" class, 4c. Prep time? None. During the second Pause, Susanne showed me the book that she wanted me to read, and asked if I could do it today. However, I couldn't read through it completely before my class with 2a, and 4c comes immediately thereafter. Being confident in my powers of improvisation and thinking that it couldn't be a complete train wreck in the making, I consented, and it went well. I wish I could have made flash cards or planned out an activity to do afterward, as it really was too short, but the kids enjoyed it well enough and behaved themselves. So, all in all, not bad.
Tomorrow, I get to herd small children again, but this time to the Bahnhof. Why? We're going to see Hansel und Gretel in Hannover, and Elisabeth and Frau Meier wanted an extra adult. Again, why? Because one of the sections is...4c. This is a disaster waiting to happen, but at least it balances out in the fact that I'm going to see an opera. So, I'm definitely not complaining.
Oh, and the one thing to really, really look forward to in less than a week? That's right: Heather is coming to Germany this Monday. I'm totally not excited. Not one bit.
Sigh. So much to do, but take a deep breath. Ready? Steady? Go!
Because the guests were late, Tjark, Andrea, and I had a chance to chat, which is a rare occurrence nowadays (because I remained holed up in my room working on lessons or surfing the Net). I discovered that Tjark is changing jobs next year, and though he won't be paid as much as a professor, he'll have more time for his family. We had gotten into a discussion (in German, naturally) about the American school system when the doorbell rang. As Tjark went to answer the door, he turned back and told me in English, "You must speak English today."
Let's establish that I had not known who the guests were to be, and both Tjark and Andrea seemed satisfied that I did not know. I was also wondering why Andrea had placed me between Tjark and Meerit and across from the main guest. Something was up.
And something was, surprisingly enough. It turned out that Tjark had invited a couple of his American coworkers, along with one's wife and child, and that Tjark speaks really good English. Of course. Anyway, I met Limon, Jocelyn, Bryan, and Sammy, Limon and Jocelyn's three year-old son. It was kind of surreal to hear so much English (and American English!) in this particular house, and it was actually...quite nice to chat with complete strangers whose one unifying factor is that we're all from the southern U.S. Tjark did manage to get a little jab in edgewise, of course, saying that while my German is good, I need to speak it more. Which, I readily admit, is true.
As our guests left, I thanked Tjark and Andrea for their surprise. They told me that they "wanted to bring a piece of America to me." So, Happy St. Nicholas Day.
Christmastime at Grundschule Klein Hehlen
Tuesday brought about the English conference at our school, which means I was at the school from before 9:00 to about 6:00 in the evening. Though I didn't really need to be there at all, I managed to draw 22 identical reindeer masks that I had forgotten to do but was for today's lesson in 1a. That was fun, only not really. But, suffice to say, today's lesson in 1a went really well. Everyone liked the masks I had made, but let's just say that when you have 22 high-pitched voices shouting for help the entire period, one can barely think well enough to attach the string to said masks. But, having just been told the story of Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer in English, Nils saw fit to tell me about the "Schneemonster" and when Rudolph and his family got trapped in the monster's cave, etc., etc...all in garbled German, of course. It was a tiresome lesson, but I will admit that it was kind of awesome seeing the kids prance around and wearing their masks.
Afterward, I had my lesson with 2a, but instead of English, they were working on their Christmas play. Their lesson is right after the second Pause of the day, and they were waiting outside for Frau Doehrmann and me. So, as we exited the main building to go over to the other building with the second graders, the entirety of 2a started waving and shouting, "Jenni!" (Is this getting old, yet? Tough shit.), and Jenny broke away from the crowd to give the obligatory hug. The surprising thing of all this was that Dylan also gave me a hug and a big smile. But, it was interesting, to say the least, observing their rehearsal, and it took me back to the days when I had to go through the grueling process of student plays...
Today was also interesting in the fact that Susanne wanted me to read a Christmas story to the "bad" class, 4c. Prep time? None. During the second Pause, Susanne showed me the book that she wanted me to read, and asked if I could do it today. However, I couldn't read through it completely before my class with 2a, and 4c comes immediately thereafter. Being confident in my powers of improvisation and thinking that it couldn't be a complete train wreck in the making, I consented, and it went well. I wish I could have made flash cards or planned out an activity to do afterward, as it really was too short, but the kids enjoyed it well enough and behaved themselves. So, all in all, not bad.
Tomorrow, I get to herd small children again, but this time to the Bahnhof. Why? We're going to see Hansel und Gretel in Hannover, and Elisabeth and Frau Meier wanted an extra adult. Again, why? Because one of the sections is...4c. This is a disaster waiting to happen, but at least it balances out in the fact that I'm going to see an opera. So, I'm definitely not complaining.
Oh, and the one thing to really, really look forward to in less than a week? That's right: Heather is coming to Germany this Monday. I'm totally not excited. Not one bit.
Sigh. So much to do, but take a deep breath. Ready? Steady? Go!
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Merry Turkeymas
Well. It's been a disjointed sort of week.
First of all, Happy Thanksgiving, my American friends. I at least got to teach about the food. I celebrated by having Gluehwein at the Celle Weihnachtsmarkt, which opened today.
Second of all, it looks to be another long post. I need to start writing more regularly again so that this doesn't become a regular occurrence.
Monday: Lesson Planning with Karolin
Since Monday is my free day of the week, I rode with Karolin, the teacher-in-training, to The Coffee Shop, a...coffee shop in the Altstadt to which I had never been but Karolin frequents. Though I spoke in stilted Germanglish, which eventually turned into more of English with some German on the side (I really did continue to try), we had a rather enjoyable time getting to know each other. However, our main objective was to set up our lesson plan for this Thursday's Thanksgiving lesson, and I will add that Karolin does have what it takes to be a successful Grundschule teacher. The nice (and very surprising) thing for me, though, was that she actually picked up the bill for the both of us, and, though it was under five euros, I repeatedly told her that I'd pick up the check the next time. She just smiled and shrugged it off.
Karolin is a very sweet woman, only about a month and a half older than I am, and seems rather enthusiastic about her future job. She has a very quiet nature about her, but not like the kind that I have: instead of discouraging conversation, Karolin's quiet seems to encourage it. She's the typical, tall, willowy, and white-blond Northern German, and though the children are still a little wary of her because of her newness, I'm sure that they will warm up to her soon, since her personality is appropriate for dealing with the young'uns.
Anyway, the lesson was planned, and we set off to take over the world.
Wednesday, Part I: Wild Things
There are two parts to this Wednesday: a good part and a rather poor part. We'll start with the good part, since it happened first that day.
I had mentioned a couple of weeks before to Frau Doehrmann that I wanted to plan a lesson around one of my favorite children's books, Maurice Sendak's Where the Wild Things Are, for 2a. I think she was happy to hear me say that, since now she knows that I actively want to do more in the classroom than I have been doing. I spent last week drawing and coloring the flashcards I was to use, along with planning (er, the night before the lesson) an activity for the students to do after the story. I drew two versions of an unfinished wild thing, and they were to complete it through my dictation. I was more than ready to tear through this lesson.
And, well, what do you know? It was quite smashing. With Dylan's help, I was able to get the children to understand what I was reading to them, but my favorite part of the lesson was when Frau Doehrmann and I decided to let the kids decide whether they want to follow my dictation or do their own thing when it came to completing their wild thing. Regardless of what choice they went with, their wild things were awesome. You do not even know just how awesome they were. And I loved it that the students who were listening to my dictation then proceeded to argue with me in the fact that the monster should have just two legs instead of the three I said. And the fact that Linda didn't know which color to give her monster, so I suggested her favorite color. Which was pink. And she totally colored her wild thing pink.
These kids are awesome.
Wednesday, Part II: Half a World Away, and Look What Happens
So, I had mentioned earlier that the second part of Wednesday was not-so good. This is because that Dr. Stephen Szilagyi, one of my English professors at UAH, had died the night before.
Shit.
I won't go into the reasons behind his death, but suffice to say that he was found unconscious a week or two ago, but at that time he had been expected to recover. Earlier this week a good friend told me that he had slipped into a coma, had renal failure, and wasn't thought to survive the weekend. Dr. Szilagyi passed away the 24th.
It's...surreal. I took two of his classes, enjoyed them, and probably wrote some of my better English papers under his instruction. I was usually concerned that he would keel over during class, though, as he mostly appeared sickly and weak. His was the last English class I ever took at UAH, it being Restoration Lit. I can still remember the dank basement room where we held class and my dismay that there were no windows to help with the drone of his lectures, even though, for the most part, I enjoyed the class. And I remember the last time I saw him: it was at Dr. Mebane's retirement party, and he and I chatted briefly about my Fulbright grant and what I was going to do while teaching little kids. (I also remember that he was more than a little soused.)
I suppose another reason why it's hit me a little hard is because I'm not in Huntsville with others who knew him. I know that my being there wouldn't help anything and that I can't help being here in Germany, but it does make me want to be back with my Huntsvillians (or Huntsvillains, fools--oh, yeah, you saw what I did there) for a sort of mutual support. I left Alabama hoping that something like this wouldn't happen while I was gone--not just to Dr. Szilagyi, but to many people...and I feel sad for losing an esteemed professor.
Thank you, Dr. Szilagyi, for your classes, for your odd ways, and your rather distinct and creepy laugh. Oh, and how you cracked yourself up. We miss you.
First of all, Happy Thanksgiving, my American friends. I at least got to teach about the food. I celebrated by having Gluehwein at the Celle Weihnachtsmarkt, which opened today.
Second of all, it looks to be another long post. I need to start writing more regularly again so that this doesn't become a regular occurrence.
Monday: Lesson Planning with Karolin
Since Monday is my free day of the week, I rode with Karolin, the teacher-in-training, to The Coffee Shop, a...coffee shop in the Altstadt to which I had never been but Karolin frequents. Though I spoke in stilted Germanglish, which eventually turned into more of English with some German on the side (I really did continue to try), we had a rather enjoyable time getting to know each other. However, our main objective was to set up our lesson plan for this Thursday's Thanksgiving lesson, and I will add that Karolin does have what it takes to be a successful Grundschule teacher. The nice (and very surprising) thing for me, though, was that she actually picked up the bill for the both of us, and, though it was under five euros, I repeatedly told her that I'd pick up the check the next time. She just smiled and shrugged it off.
Karolin is a very sweet woman, only about a month and a half older than I am, and seems rather enthusiastic about her future job. She has a very quiet nature about her, but not like the kind that I have: instead of discouraging conversation, Karolin's quiet seems to encourage it. She's the typical, tall, willowy, and white-blond Northern German, and though the children are still a little wary of her because of her newness, I'm sure that they will warm up to her soon, since her personality is appropriate for dealing with the young'uns.
Anyway, the lesson was planned, and we set off to take over the world.
Wednesday, Part I: Wild Things
There are two parts to this Wednesday: a good part and a rather poor part. We'll start with the good part, since it happened first that day.
I had mentioned a couple of weeks before to Frau Doehrmann that I wanted to plan a lesson around one of my favorite children's books, Maurice Sendak's Where the Wild Things Are, for 2a. I think she was happy to hear me say that, since now she knows that I actively want to do more in the classroom than I have been doing. I spent last week drawing and coloring the flashcards I was to use, along with planning (er, the night before the lesson) an activity for the students to do after the story. I drew two versions of an unfinished wild thing, and they were to complete it through my dictation. I was more than ready to tear through this lesson.
And, well, what do you know? It was quite smashing. With Dylan's help, I was able to get the children to understand what I was reading to them, but my favorite part of the lesson was when Frau Doehrmann and I decided to let the kids decide whether they want to follow my dictation or do their own thing when it came to completing their wild thing. Regardless of what choice they went with, their wild things were awesome. You do not even know just how awesome they were. And I loved it that the students who were listening to my dictation then proceeded to argue with me in the fact that the monster should have just two legs instead of the three I said. And the fact that Linda didn't know which color to give her monster, so I suggested her favorite color. Which was pink. And she totally colored her wild thing pink.
These kids are awesome.
Wednesday, Part II: Half a World Away, and Look What Happens
So, I had mentioned earlier that the second part of Wednesday was not-so good. This is because that Dr. Stephen Szilagyi, one of my English professors at UAH, had died the night before.
Shit.
I won't go into the reasons behind his death, but suffice to say that he was found unconscious a week or two ago, but at that time he had been expected to recover. Earlier this week a good friend told me that he had slipped into a coma, had renal failure, and wasn't thought to survive the weekend. Dr. Szilagyi passed away the 24th.
It's...surreal. I took two of his classes, enjoyed them, and probably wrote some of my better English papers under his instruction. I was usually concerned that he would keel over during class, though, as he mostly appeared sickly and weak. His was the last English class I ever took at UAH, it being Restoration Lit. I can still remember the dank basement room where we held class and my dismay that there were no windows to help with the drone of his lectures, even though, for the most part, I enjoyed the class. And I remember the last time I saw him: it was at Dr. Mebane's retirement party, and he and I chatted briefly about my Fulbright grant and what I was going to do while teaching little kids. (I also remember that he was more than a little soused.)
I suppose another reason why it's hit me a little hard is because I'm not in Huntsville with others who knew him. I know that my being there wouldn't help anything and that I can't help being here in Germany, but it does make me want to be back with my Huntsvillians (or Huntsvillains, fools--oh, yeah, you saw what I did there) for a sort of mutual support. I left Alabama hoping that something like this wouldn't happen while I was gone--not just to Dr. Szilagyi, but to many people...and I feel sad for losing an esteemed professor.
Thank you, Dr. Szilagyi, for your classes, for your odd ways, and your rather distinct and creepy laugh. Oh, and how you cracked yourself up. We miss you.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Minion #2 of Jen's Minions Series: Jan
I know I said I was going to profile Dylan, but this kid comes more to mind right now, as I T.A.-ed in his class today.
Jan is a student in 2b, a class that I don't believe I have ever mentioned in this blog. 2b is a sharp class, and I quite like the students...but unfortunately, I don't quite have the names memorized yet, thus making these students somewhat difficult to mention. Most, however, except Jan. He is an adorable, red-haired boy, with cute bangs, wide eyes, and a face that makes me think of Max from Where the Wild Things Are and Alexander from Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. Seriously, he looks like he should be the protagonist in his very own children's book. He appears to be a bright boy, but what really tugs at my (jagged, sharp, stone--grawr, kids, blech) heartstrings is his shy smile and eagerness to help. Jan stays during the the first part of the break after class to sweep up (it doesn't look like he's been told to do this, but maybe he has), and today he brought me a chair and cleaned up the chalkboard--when class was still going on.
And, yes, I had to sneak a look at his violet folder today to learn his name. Don't look at me like that. I chase after too many students to know all their names, even in November. This may or may not make me a terrible person.
Jan is a student in 2b, a class that I don't believe I have ever mentioned in this blog. 2b is a sharp class, and I quite like the students...but unfortunately, I don't quite have the names memorized yet, thus making these students somewhat difficult to mention. Most, however, except Jan. He is an adorable, red-haired boy, with cute bangs, wide eyes, and a face that makes me think of Max from Where the Wild Things Are and Alexander from Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. Seriously, he looks like he should be the protagonist in his very own children's book. He appears to be a bright boy, but what really tugs at my (jagged, sharp, stone--grawr, kids, blech) heartstrings is his shy smile and eagerness to help. Jan stays during the the first part of the break after class to sweep up (it doesn't look like he's been told to do this, but maybe he has), and today he brought me a chair and cleaned up the chalkboard--when class was still going on.
And, yes, I had to sneak a look at his violet folder today to learn his name. Don't look at me like that. I chase after too many students to know all their names, even in November. This may or may not make me a terrible person.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Overdue for an Update
I've been horribly lax, and I even have quite a bit to talk (er, type) about. Lustig, wie das geht. In this entry, I shall talk about the most immediate story that comes to mind, and then I will backtrack from there with the results of my parents' visit. To make your lovely reading experience easier to digest, I shall chop this up into small morsels--because, damn, this is a long post.
Herding Small Children
As I walked into the teacher's lounge this morning, I noticed some of the teachers buzzing about because of a class trip to the Schlosstheater. I had earlier gleaned from the bulletin board that 2a and 2c were going to see Sinbad, der kleine Seefahrer, and I thought little more of it. As I was going over animals in 1b, Frau Doehrmann stepped in and asked to talk with me outside. She told me that one of the students was ill and unable to go to the play, and she asked me if I would like to accompany them to the theatre. Vaguely suspecting that this actually meant, "I need another hand to herd these small children to the theatre," I readily consented.
As has become the norm, the children from both classes were very glad to discover that I was going with them and proceeded to climb all over me to be my "partner" for the walk to the Schloss (which takes about half an hour when acting as Child Shepherd). I ended up walking between the two classes, right in front of Dylan (Minion #2) and Thorben, and I had to hold Dylan's hand almost the entire time because I knew that he was going to trip over his untied shoelaces. I will, by the way, profile Dylan quite soon. Regardless, we made it to the theatre in one piece, with only one fall.
The play itself was cute, and the actors did quite well. Since it is aimed for children, the humor is thus downgraded to suit a child's fancy, but the play was charming for adults, too. With these expectations in mind, I really have no complaints except for the one actress I couldn't hear whenever she came out during scene changes. But, being in the audience with the children, there may have been no other way around it. I am, however, quite impressed with the actors' versatility, as the secondary characters played multiple parts with definite success. I also got to sit in the same box as Julia, a child in 2a whom I haven't seen in ages. Maybe she just doesn't have English, but she was quite excited to see me again. And I her, actually.
After our return to the school, with three quite exhausted teachers, I walked Meerit home, since Andrea had to work today (since Niclas had been sick the other day). It was quite nice talking with Meerit, as I don't really interact too much with the family. Mainly, we talked about instruments, but it was nice to see her show a bit of concern for her brother's health. She's a good kid.
Overall, today has been good. I was surprised that a few of the 4c-ers asked whether I'd be in class today, as I missed last week to walk my parents to the bus stop. I wasn't there today, either, since I saw the play. Maybe they're not such a "bad" class, after all.
The Statons Pay a Visit, Part I: My Ability to Boil Water
As aforementioned (tee-hee, I love that word), my parents visited me the 6th-16th of November. I am glad to say that they have made it safely to the States and are relaxing in their home. However, their visit was very nice...though, it being typical November weather in Germany, it rained almost the entire time. Way to go, weather. Way to go.
Still, my parents enjoyed their stay in Celle. We didn't do too terribly much, mainly because they wanted to relax and I had to work. On Monday, I showed them my grocery store, Neukauf, which doesn't sound like much unless you've never seen a non-American grocery store...which still isn't saying much. Afterward, though, we walked to my flat, chatted, and I cooked a dinner of prepared tortellini and grilled vegetables tomato sauce. Hooray for my stellar ability of boiling water! Overall, I think my parents were impressed by my living arrangements, which put them at ease about my stay here in general...even though I'd been saying that life here is pretty damn good.
The Statons Pay a Visit, Part II: 2a Remains Awesome
Wednesday was the most important day for me, since my parents came to my school. I managed to take the bus to the Altstadt and back during my break between classes, and we waited in the teacher's lounge before my class with 2a. During this time, Silke and Barco talked with us (in English, which they had never done with me) about Niedersachsen and German schools, and Susanne, peppery as always, showed us her remedial math class and talked to us about such programs here (which was very interesting, not least because of the way these students are talked about...). I recognized all of the students (there were only five), all in the third class, and Susanne mentioned that these students came from lower class families... I'll just end it by saying that I didn't find the class itself unusual, but...the reasons behind why there were in this class. I'm certain this makes sense.
Anyway, after the Pause, my parents observed me at my finest: TA-ing the ickle 2a-ers. This went off without a hitch, honestly. The kids were very well behaved and performed their parts perfectly, starting with the barrage of hugs and squeals, then with me reading Papa, Please Get the Moon for Me by Eric Carle, playing the "Hokey Kokey" (rather than "Hokey Pokey" in American English), and ending with Dad and me handing out space ice cream from NASA that Dad had brought with him (which the children LOVED and almost attacked me for more). (I don't remember whether I told the parents this, but Emily saved some for her brother.) I really can't thank Frau Doehrmann enough for her hospitality.
The Parents Pay a Visit, Part III: The St. Marienkirche Tower of DOOM
Thursday was an interesting day, to say the least. I once again headed to the Altstadt to meet the parents after work, and I suggested, it being merely overcast and not raining, that we venture up the St. Marienkirche tower. My coworkers had insisted that we climb this, since at the top one can see the entire Altstadt. We three proceeded to climb this seemingly innocent tower, but poor Mum had to stop after the second flight of spiraling stairs. It is understandable why, too; one particular flight of stairs wound around in a very open space, making looking down somewhat frightening. So, Dad and I continued on (...I almost typed "weiter"), stopping at each landing only to reach more spiraling stairs. And more. And...more. If this wasn't a bonding experience, then dammit, I don't know what would be.
However, my coworkers were right: the view from atop really is beautiful. We saw the beautiful red-tiled rooftops of the buildings and took many pictures as proof that we made it past the awkward submarine capsule-esque doorway to the top of the church tower.
Did I mention the bells? Yeah, the bells ring every fifteen minutes. I know this because Dad asked me to translate a sign that stated that very thing as we were descending...right as we approached the bells. So, just so you know, the bells ring every fifteen minutes.
The Statons Pay a Visit, Part IV: The Very Friendly Hannover Taxi Driver
So, during this time I was nauseous. On Friday morning, I just couldn't bring myself to go to work, 1.) because I was sick and 2.) because I was stressed enough as it was because my parents and I were traveling to Hannover that day. So, with an unstable stomach and a bundle of nerves, I set off with Mum and Dad to that city of Hannover, whereupon we took a taxi (I know, I know) from the Hauptbahnhof to the medical district, where our hotel was.
(Side note: S-bahns become crowded on Friday afternoons.)
As I am the only one of the three who speaks decent German, I sat in the front seat with the taxi driver. This was a middle-aged man, tall, just-above shoulder length brown hair, and light eyes. He appeared friendly enough just from his demeanor and the fact that he actually smiled. But, hey, guess what? I had a fifteen-minute conversation with this man, in German, about Niedersachsen, what I'm doing here, the condition of Hannover, and other places to go in Germany. The really awesome thing about all of this? I hardly messed up. You don't know how frickin' awesome this is. I think I also confounded my parents with this awesomeness, from the looks they gave me. I can impress laymen!
Anyway, the taxi driver got us to the hotel Mercure without cheating us too much, which thus concluded our arrival to Hannover.
The Statons Pay a Visit, Part V: Hannover, Conclusion, and Carpel Tunnel Syndrome for Our Narrator
My weekend in Hannover with the parents was generally quite enjoyable. On Saturday, I gave them a semi-random tour of the major parts of the city, including the Marktkirche. Outside the church was a bookcase full of, what d'you know, books, and I ventured there to have a look as my parents were busy being good tourists and taking pictures. Some random woman shoved books into my hands, saying that this particular author was spectacular, and so was this one, usw. Evidently, these bookcases are scattered about Hannover, and one can take and give books at will and at no cost. I deemed this quite awesome and stowed away the books that the woman forced upon me.
Upon entering the Marktkirche, I wandered about as Mum and Dad took pictures and spotted a small gathering of people around the candles. They were placing lit candles either on the stand or at the foot of it, and there were also flowers placed on the ground. It was a memorial to Robert Enke, the German soccer player who had committed suicide. It was very interesting to see how people were emotionally involved in this.
After leaving the Martkirche, I took the 'rents to the Flohmarkt, viewed the Nannas by Nikki St. de Phalle, toured the Neues Rathaus, and went to the Landesmuseum so that they could say that they've seen a Rubens (and Monet, and Renoir, etc., etc.). Yay for culture-fying my parents!
Sunday was much of the same, only we went to the Sprengel Museum of modern art. While I like only the modern art before 1960 and was thus disappointed with the first exhibit, I very much enjoyed the downstairs gallery, with such works by Picasso (naturally), Dix, Mueller, Kirchner (how I love thee), and Marc. I was impressed by its Blaue Reiter collection and was thrilled that I managed to view those works. Sigh, art museums...you are my weakness.
After a jaunt through the park right behind the Neues Rathaus, a dinner of pumpkin risotto at Mowenpick, and a walk with accordion accompaniment, we trekked back to the hotel to pack. And, on Monday morning, I bade farewell to my parents and returned to Celle...to sleep.
I'm proud of my parents for traveling an ocean away from their home to visit me. I know it shouldn't be surprising, but it is. Yay for visitors!
Okay, I'm tired now. Time for a break.
Addendum: List of minions to describe in later posts:
Nils - 1a
Dylan - 2a
Celia - 2c
Lara - 1b
Martha, Lila, Lea--oh Hell, the entire class of 2a
Kubra - 4c
Nicole - 1b
Vivian - 4a
Julia - 2a
Little red-haired boy in 2b (edit: Jan)
Bennett - 4c
Herding Small Children
As I walked into the teacher's lounge this morning, I noticed some of the teachers buzzing about because of a class trip to the Schlosstheater. I had earlier gleaned from the bulletin board that 2a and 2c were going to see Sinbad, der kleine Seefahrer, and I thought little more of it. As I was going over animals in 1b, Frau Doehrmann stepped in and asked to talk with me outside. She told me that one of the students was ill and unable to go to the play, and she asked me if I would like to accompany them to the theatre. Vaguely suspecting that this actually meant, "I need another hand to herd these small children to the theatre," I readily consented.
As has become the norm, the children from both classes were very glad to discover that I was going with them and proceeded to climb all over me to be my "partner" for the walk to the Schloss (which takes about half an hour when acting as Child Shepherd). I ended up walking between the two classes, right in front of Dylan (Minion #2) and Thorben, and I had to hold Dylan's hand almost the entire time because I knew that he was going to trip over his untied shoelaces. I will, by the way, profile Dylan quite soon. Regardless, we made it to the theatre in one piece, with only one fall.
The play itself was cute, and the actors did quite well. Since it is aimed for children, the humor is thus downgraded to suit a child's fancy, but the play was charming for adults, too. With these expectations in mind, I really have no complaints except for the one actress I couldn't hear whenever she came out during scene changes. But, being in the audience with the children, there may have been no other way around it. I am, however, quite impressed with the actors' versatility, as the secondary characters played multiple parts with definite success. I also got to sit in the same box as Julia, a child in 2a whom I haven't seen in ages. Maybe she just doesn't have English, but she was quite excited to see me again. And I her, actually.
After our return to the school, with three quite exhausted teachers, I walked Meerit home, since Andrea had to work today (since Niclas had been sick the other day). It was quite nice talking with Meerit, as I don't really interact too much with the family. Mainly, we talked about instruments, but it was nice to see her show a bit of concern for her brother's health. She's a good kid.
Overall, today has been good. I was surprised that a few of the 4c-ers asked whether I'd be in class today, as I missed last week to walk my parents to the bus stop. I wasn't there today, either, since I saw the play. Maybe they're not such a "bad" class, after all.
The Statons Pay a Visit, Part I: My Ability to Boil Water
As aforementioned (tee-hee, I love that word), my parents visited me the 6th-16th of November. I am glad to say that they have made it safely to the States and are relaxing in their home. However, their visit was very nice...though, it being typical November weather in Germany, it rained almost the entire time. Way to go, weather. Way to go.
Still, my parents enjoyed their stay in Celle. We didn't do too terribly much, mainly because they wanted to relax and I had to work. On Monday, I showed them my grocery store, Neukauf, which doesn't sound like much unless you've never seen a non-American grocery store...which still isn't saying much. Afterward, though, we walked to my flat, chatted, and I cooked a dinner of prepared tortellini and grilled vegetables tomato sauce. Hooray for my stellar ability of boiling water! Overall, I think my parents were impressed by my living arrangements, which put them at ease about my stay here in general...even though I'd been saying that life here is pretty damn good.
The Statons Pay a Visit, Part II: 2a Remains Awesome
Wednesday was the most important day for me, since my parents came to my school. I managed to take the bus to the Altstadt and back during my break between classes, and we waited in the teacher's lounge before my class with 2a. During this time, Silke and Barco talked with us (in English, which they had never done with me) about Niedersachsen and German schools, and Susanne, peppery as always, showed us her remedial math class and talked to us about such programs here (which was very interesting, not least because of the way these students are talked about...). I recognized all of the students (there were only five), all in the third class, and Susanne mentioned that these students came from lower class families... I'll just end it by saying that I didn't find the class itself unusual, but...the reasons behind why there were in this class. I'm certain this makes sense.
Anyway, after the Pause, my parents observed me at my finest: TA-ing the ickle 2a-ers. This went off without a hitch, honestly. The kids were very well behaved and performed their parts perfectly, starting with the barrage of hugs and squeals, then with me reading Papa, Please Get the Moon for Me by Eric Carle, playing the "Hokey Kokey" (rather than "Hokey Pokey" in American English), and ending with Dad and me handing out space ice cream from NASA that Dad had brought with him (which the children LOVED and almost attacked me for more). (I don't remember whether I told the parents this, but Emily saved some for her brother.) I really can't thank Frau Doehrmann enough for her hospitality.
The Parents Pay a Visit, Part III: The St. Marienkirche Tower of DOOM
Thursday was an interesting day, to say the least. I once again headed to the Altstadt to meet the parents after work, and I suggested, it being merely overcast and not raining, that we venture up the St. Marienkirche tower. My coworkers had insisted that we climb this, since at the top one can see the entire Altstadt. We three proceeded to climb this seemingly innocent tower, but poor Mum had to stop after the second flight of spiraling stairs. It is understandable why, too; one particular flight of stairs wound around in a very open space, making looking down somewhat frightening. So, Dad and I continued on (...I almost typed "weiter"), stopping at each landing only to reach more spiraling stairs. And more. And...more. If this wasn't a bonding experience, then dammit, I don't know what would be.
However, my coworkers were right: the view from atop really is beautiful. We saw the beautiful red-tiled rooftops of the buildings and took many pictures as proof that we made it past the awkward submarine capsule-esque doorway to the top of the church tower.
Did I mention the bells? Yeah, the bells ring every fifteen minutes. I know this because Dad asked me to translate a sign that stated that very thing as we were descending...right as we approached the bells. So, just so you know, the bells ring every fifteen minutes.
The Statons Pay a Visit, Part IV: The Very Friendly Hannover Taxi Driver
So, during this time I was nauseous. On Friday morning, I just couldn't bring myself to go to work, 1.) because I was sick and 2.) because I was stressed enough as it was because my parents and I were traveling to Hannover that day. So, with an unstable stomach and a bundle of nerves, I set off with Mum and Dad to that city of Hannover, whereupon we took a taxi (I know, I know) from the Hauptbahnhof to the medical district, where our hotel was.
(Side note: S-bahns become crowded on Friday afternoons.)
As I am the only one of the three who speaks decent German, I sat in the front seat with the taxi driver. This was a middle-aged man, tall, just-above shoulder length brown hair, and light eyes. He appeared friendly enough just from his demeanor and the fact that he actually smiled. But, hey, guess what? I had a fifteen-minute conversation with this man, in German, about Niedersachsen, what I'm doing here, the condition of Hannover, and other places to go in Germany. The really awesome thing about all of this? I hardly messed up. You don't know how frickin' awesome this is. I think I also confounded my parents with this awesomeness, from the looks they gave me. I can impress laymen!
Anyway, the taxi driver got us to the hotel Mercure without cheating us too much, which thus concluded our arrival to Hannover.
The Statons Pay a Visit, Part V: Hannover, Conclusion, and Carpel Tunnel Syndrome for Our Narrator
My weekend in Hannover with the parents was generally quite enjoyable. On Saturday, I gave them a semi-random tour of the major parts of the city, including the Marktkirche. Outside the church was a bookcase full of, what d'you know, books, and I ventured there to have a look as my parents were busy being good tourists and taking pictures. Some random woman shoved books into my hands, saying that this particular author was spectacular, and so was this one, usw. Evidently, these bookcases are scattered about Hannover, and one can take and give books at will and at no cost. I deemed this quite awesome and stowed away the books that the woman forced upon me.
Upon entering the Marktkirche, I wandered about as Mum and Dad took pictures and spotted a small gathering of people around the candles. They were placing lit candles either on the stand or at the foot of it, and there were also flowers placed on the ground. It was a memorial to Robert Enke, the German soccer player who had committed suicide. It was very interesting to see how people were emotionally involved in this.
After leaving the Martkirche, I took the 'rents to the Flohmarkt, viewed the Nannas by Nikki St. de Phalle, toured the Neues Rathaus, and went to the Landesmuseum so that they could say that they've seen a Rubens (and Monet, and Renoir, etc., etc.). Yay for culture-fying my parents!
Sunday was much of the same, only we went to the Sprengel Museum of modern art. While I like only the modern art before 1960 and was thus disappointed with the first exhibit, I very much enjoyed the downstairs gallery, with such works by Picasso (naturally), Dix, Mueller, Kirchner (how I love thee), and Marc. I was impressed by its Blaue Reiter collection and was thrilled that I managed to view those works. Sigh, art museums...you are my weakness.
After a jaunt through the park right behind the Neues Rathaus, a dinner of pumpkin risotto at Mowenpick, and a walk with accordion accompaniment, we trekked back to the hotel to pack. And, on Monday morning, I bade farewell to my parents and returned to Celle...to sleep.
I'm proud of my parents for traveling an ocean away from their home to visit me. I know it shouldn't be surprising, but it is. Yay for visitors!
Okay, I'm tired now. Time for a break.
Addendum: List of minions to describe in later posts:
Nils - 1a
Dylan - 2a
Celia - 2c
Lara - 1b
Martha, Lila, Lea--oh Hell, the entire class of 2a
Kubra - 4c
Nicole - 1b
Vivian - 4a
Julia - 2a
Little red-haired boy in 2b (edit: Jan)
Bennett - 4c
Sunday, November 8, 2009
I Have Visitors!
Visitors, yes! In the form of my parents!
We have had a rather enjoyable time, so far, and they will be staying in Celle through Friday, when they check out of the Furstenhof hotel and go to Hannover for the weekend. I, naturally, shall be accompanying them until their departure next Monday. I met them at the Hannover Flughafen Friday evening (after a delay on the metronome of fifteen minutes, which I'm beginning to suspect is the norm more so than the usual German punctuality...), and, after helping a somewhat confused and polite Indian man purchase his ticket to the Hannover Hauptbahnhof, we set off to Celle (after another twenty-five minute delay on the other metronome). On Saturday, I gave them a tour of the Altstadt, where they were appropriately impressed, despite the somewhat dreary weather.
It's very nice to see my parents again. I'm proud that I get to show them exactly what I'm doing here and how I'm living. I think I can say with certainty that they are reassured that I'm not messing up too much of Germany with my plans of evil grandeur.
Amusing story: When I mentioned to Susanne and Petra that my parents were coming, they asked, "When?" I replied, "This evening." They gasped and proceeded to tell me where to go and what to do, and as Susanne and I walked to our class, she told me the story of the trip she and her first husband took to the States. Yay, coworkers!
Another story: We have a new teacher-in-training, who is extremely polite and young. She is an English teacher to be, so she has been observing almost every class in which I assist. She also came to Wednesday's 2a class. Since she is still new and unfamiliar, the kids still ignore her and give me hugs (this sounds mean, but I don't intend it that way).
As I tried to quietly enter into the lion(cub)'s den of 2a, I knew that no tactic would evade the hug of at least one of the twenty short people who inhabit such a place. As I steeled myself for the hug of one Jenny, nothing could prepare me for the swelling mass of (er, three or four) German creatures rushing into formation against my meager defenses. All I could do was stand in awe of the shifting tower of blonde heads, crashing down like a wave of fury around my waist, entrapping me with affectionate hugs that only these children can give. I hung my head in shame. I was defeated. This, of course, was expressed by almost toppling over and giving an exasperated "Hallo!" as I tried to move.
I kind of like my job.
I don't believe there's any other news to report. I'm doing well, the Scat the Cat lesson was relatively successful (did I even mention that? I did my own part of the lesson Wednesday for 1a), and I'm content. Life, for the moment, is good. And I'm living it up while it lasts.
We have had a rather enjoyable time, so far, and they will be staying in Celle through Friday, when they check out of the Furstenhof hotel and go to Hannover for the weekend. I, naturally, shall be accompanying them until their departure next Monday. I met them at the Hannover Flughafen Friday evening (after a delay on the metronome of fifteen minutes, which I'm beginning to suspect is the norm more so than the usual German punctuality...), and, after helping a somewhat confused and polite Indian man purchase his ticket to the Hannover Hauptbahnhof, we set off to Celle (after another twenty-five minute delay on the other metronome). On Saturday, I gave them a tour of the Altstadt, where they were appropriately impressed, despite the somewhat dreary weather.
It's very nice to see my parents again. I'm proud that I get to show them exactly what I'm doing here and how I'm living. I think I can say with certainty that they are reassured that I'm not messing up too much of Germany with my plans of evil grandeur.
Amusing story: When I mentioned to Susanne and Petra that my parents were coming, they asked, "When?" I replied, "This evening." They gasped and proceeded to tell me where to go and what to do, and as Susanne and I walked to our class, she told me the story of the trip she and her first husband took to the States. Yay, coworkers!
Another story: We have a new teacher-in-training, who is extremely polite and young. She is an English teacher to be, so she has been observing almost every class in which I assist. She also came to Wednesday's 2a class. Since she is still new and unfamiliar, the kids still ignore her and give me hugs (this sounds mean, but I don't intend it that way).
As I tried to quietly enter into the lion(cub)'s den of 2a, I knew that no tactic would evade the hug of at least one of the twenty short people who inhabit such a place. As I steeled myself for the hug of one Jenny, nothing could prepare me for the swelling mass of (er, three or four) German creatures rushing into formation against my meager defenses. All I could do was stand in awe of the shifting tower of blonde heads, crashing down like a wave of fury around my waist, entrapping me with affectionate hugs that only these children can give. I hung my head in shame. I was defeated. This, of course, was expressed by almost toppling over and giving an exasperated "Hallo!" as I tried to move.
I kind of like my job.
I don't believe there's any other news to report. I'm doing well, the Scat the Cat lesson was relatively successful (did I even mention that? I did my own part of the lesson Wednesday for 1a), and I'm content. Life, for the moment, is good. And I'm living it up while it lasts.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
A Little Tidbit
This morning, while walking to the school courtyard from the bus stop, I heard a noise. I looked up at the building, and the students of 2a were waving at me from the window, excitedly shouting, "Hallo, Jenni!! Good morning!"
...Tee-hee.
It is a full moon tonight. Such a lovely shade of yellow.
...Tee-hee.
It is a full moon tonight. Such a lovely shade of yellow.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
A Thanksgiving Story
A sunny, temperate day. I have cake. Life is good.
No, seriously. Cake = good life.
Let's add to this formula: (sunny day + cake / The Decemberists' The Hazards of Love) x visitors in November and December = quite a damn good life.
In other news, I will be teaching 4b on my own on Thanksgiving day. The story that has been bestowed unto me to teach the kiddies is worthy of note because it is loosely based on the concept that some people wanted to come to America so badly that they sailed on a ship and moved to rich farmland where there's absolutely no trouble at all but the Indians helped them anyway because they're so nice and not being threatened at all and everyone is one big happy family, the end.
Sometimes, grammatically incorrect sentences get the point across the best.
So, here's the school's narration:
The Story of Thanksgiving
Long, long, long ago there were some English people called Pilgrims. They wanted to live in America. So the Pilgrims took a little sailing ship. They called it Mayflower. The Pilgrims sailed and sailed and sailed over the sea. Finally they saw a harbour. It looked like a bowl. There was good farmland. They built houses and called the place Plymouth. The Pilgrims met some Indians. The Indians helped the Pilgrims. They showed the Pilgrims berries, herbs and roots. And they showed the Pilgrims a new fruit. It was called corn. In autumn the Pilgrims had pumpkins, peas, beans and cranberries. And they had cornmeal. They baked bread and pancakes. The Pilgrims celebrated a feast. They invited the Indians. Every year in November the Americans remember those Pilgrims and Indians. They eat turkey, corn, cranberries, sweet potatoes and pumpkin pie. The feast is called Thanksgiving.
(Courtesy of Bausteine - Englisch)
Here's my rendition (which is also not entirely true, as I believe there actually was a plentiful harvest):
In 1620, a group of English Separatists, who, like most other religious sects in the history of ever, sought to establish their own special, exclusive community where they could avoid "relentless" persecution from other special, exclusive communities. They wanted to go to America because it was so cool, and they were really excited by the stellar successes of Roanoke and Jamestown. Therefore, after seeking their safe haven in the Netherlands, 102 passengers sailed across the Atlantic in the Mayflower, where absolutely no one died at all, to the Plymouth area of what would be called the ever-original New England. Of course, no one starved in this fruitful area, and there were no harsh winters where such starvation could occur. At all. These English Separatists knew very well the horticulture of this new land and didn't require the voluntary assistance of a certain fellow named Squanto, a guy who kind of knew what he was doing. So, with the bountiful harvest that came within a year, the Pilgrims, for that is how those lovable Separatists came to be known, invited the Native Americans, who totally weren't suffering depleted numbers from disease and forced relocation, to their first Thanksgiving. Pumpkin pie may or may not have been served, as there are no recorded instances.
And everyone lived happily ever after. The end.
It's funnier if it's said aloud, particularly in my dry, flat tone.
Nothing much else of note, actually. I'm quietly planning for a couple of visits, which is pleasant and stressful all at once, since I'm planning out my expenses as well. This will work out, however. Awesomeness awaits.
It's that time of the year for Halloween and harvest festivals back in Alabama. It makes me a bit whimsical, a bit nostalgic, and a tiny bit homesick. But...that's how it goes, isn't it? I imagine that all of the major holidays will be like this, even perhaps a bit stronger. Things are going well here. I feel a lot better about myself here. I like feeling like there's not too much wrong with me. It makes me realize that, hey, I can be kind of awesome.
Can a location really make one feel that? Can an experience that doesn't really have anything to do with the person involved, but rather with the title of Fulbright Grantee, with the job that the person is assigned, make one feel that? Is the person interesting, or is all the glory designated to the "prestige" that goes along with the type of job this is? Somehow, I believe both are intertwined. The person who is awarded something like this grant either is interesting enough to attain it or becomes interesting through the process of self-realization and the knowledge of what exactly one can endure. This is not something that is just handed to someone. I worked for this grant. But, is my "interestingness" only so because I worked for this? Or because I'm naturally an interesting person?
I love these contemplations. They give meaning to my life. And, it's not just about me, either. It's about anyone who goes through this sort of process, anyone who pushes oneself to do something that terrifies him or her. It's one of the most awesome things that one can muse about. Can one truly find an answer? Probably not. But, that's okay. Maybe it's not meant to be solved.
No, seriously. Cake = good life.
Let's add to this formula: (sunny day + cake / The Decemberists' The Hazards of Love) x visitors in November and December = quite a damn good life.
In other news, I will be teaching 4b on my own on Thanksgiving day. The story that has been bestowed unto me to teach the kiddies is worthy of note because it is loosely based on the concept that some people wanted to come to America so badly that they sailed on a ship and moved to rich farmland where there's absolutely no trouble at all but the Indians helped them anyway because they're so nice and not being threatened at all and everyone is one big happy family, the end.
Sometimes, grammatically incorrect sentences get the point across the best.
So, here's the school's narration:
The Story of Thanksgiving
Long, long, long ago there were some English people called Pilgrims. They wanted to live in America. So the Pilgrims took a little sailing ship. They called it Mayflower. The Pilgrims sailed and sailed and sailed over the sea. Finally they saw a harbour. It looked like a bowl. There was good farmland. They built houses and called the place Plymouth. The Pilgrims met some Indians. The Indians helped the Pilgrims. They showed the Pilgrims berries, herbs and roots. And they showed the Pilgrims a new fruit. It was called corn. In autumn the Pilgrims had pumpkins, peas, beans and cranberries. And they had cornmeal. They baked bread and pancakes. The Pilgrims celebrated a feast. They invited the Indians. Every year in November the Americans remember those Pilgrims and Indians. They eat turkey, corn, cranberries, sweet potatoes and pumpkin pie. The feast is called Thanksgiving.
(Courtesy of Bausteine - Englisch)
Here's my rendition (which is also not entirely true, as I believe there actually was a plentiful harvest):
In 1620, a group of English Separatists, who, like most other religious sects in the history of ever, sought to establish their own special, exclusive community where they could avoid "relentless" persecution from other special, exclusive communities. They wanted to go to America because it was so cool, and they were really excited by the stellar successes of Roanoke and Jamestown. Therefore, after seeking their safe haven in the Netherlands, 102 passengers sailed across the Atlantic in the Mayflower, where absolutely no one died at all, to the Plymouth area of what would be called the ever-original New England. Of course, no one starved in this fruitful area, and there were no harsh winters where such starvation could occur. At all. These English Separatists knew very well the horticulture of this new land and didn't require the voluntary assistance of a certain fellow named Squanto, a guy who kind of knew what he was doing. So, with the bountiful harvest that came within a year, the Pilgrims, for that is how those lovable Separatists came to be known, invited the Native Americans, who totally weren't suffering depleted numbers from disease and forced relocation, to their first Thanksgiving. Pumpkin pie may or may not have been served, as there are no recorded instances.
And everyone lived happily ever after. The end.
It's funnier if it's said aloud, particularly in my dry, flat tone.
Nothing much else of note, actually. I'm quietly planning for a couple of visits, which is pleasant and stressful all at once, since I'm planning out my expenses as well. This will work out, however. Awesomeness awaits.
It's that time of the year for Halloween and harvest festivals back in Alabama. It makes me a bit whimsical, a bit nostalgic, and a tiny bit homesick. But...that's how it goes, isn't it? I imagine that all of the major holidays will be like this, even perhaps a bit stronger. Things are going well here. I feel a lot better about myself here. I like feeling like there's not too much wrong with me. It makes me realize that, hey, I can be kind of awesome.
Can a location really make one feel that? Can an experience that doesn't really have anything to do with the person involved, but rather with the title of Fulbright Grantee, with the job that the person is assigned, make one feel that? Is the person interesting, or is all the glory designated to the "prestige" that goes along with the type of job this is? Somehow, I believe both are intertwined. The person who is awarded something like this grant either is interesting enough to attain it or becomes interesting through the process of self-realization and the knowledge of what exactly one can endure. This is not something that is just handed to someone. I worked for this grant. But, is my "interestingness" only so because I worked for this? Or because I'm naturally an interesting person?
I love these contemplations. They give meaning to my life. And, it's not just about me, either. It's about anyone who goes through this sort of process, anyone who pushes oneself to do something that terrifies him or her. It's one of the most awesome things that one can muse about. Can one truly find an answer? Probably not. But, that's okay. Maybe it's not meant to be solved.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Follow-up on Your First Moment of Jen (MOJ)
Okay, now for a more substantial post, filled with just as much silliness, but with words, rather than actions.
I suppose I shall litter this post with a few scattered stories before going into a more detailed rendition of this week. So, prepare, as usual, for a bit of disjointedness, followed by a more straightforward narrative.
I suppose I shall litter this post with a few scattered stories before going into a more detailed rendition of this week. So, prepare, as usual, for a bit of disjointedness, followed by a more straightforward narrative.
* * *
Today, I saw a yellow kite flying amidst the grey, overcast sky, floating solitary in the dim field and valiantly attempting, in all its sunshine valor, to find its way against the shards of biting wind. It was actually quite successful. Its winning battle made me smile to myself, anyway.
* * *
Yesterday, upon walking home, I stood and watched a small down feather float to the ground. I picked it up and took it home with me. This brings my small feather collection to...two now. Also, while sitting near the river Aller, I pilfered a smooth, tan rock from the bank. A small pine cone also now adorns my window sill from the forest. I've become a nature klepto.
* * *
Last Saturday while in the Altstadt, Andrea #2 spotted me and walked over to sit with and talk to me for a little while. She has sort of taken to looking after me whenever we meet, since she constantly strives to better my German (which is actually worse when I talk to her precisely because this makes me nervous). Despite this, I've taken a liking to her, since she is generous and patient with me. Today, even, she spotted me while driving her twin sons home from school and insisted on giving me a ride back to the flat. As she said in English, "Don't be shy!" Despite the fact that I actually wanted to walk home, I still appreciate the generosity of my neighbors.
Well, that was fun.
So, let's get on with the more coherent part of this narrative. This week marks the return to work, for which I am incredibly glad. You have no idea. Herbstferien was too long, and, being the broke Fulbright scholar that I am, I wasn't able to fill my time with too much glamorous traveling and whatnot. Though I very much enjoyed my solitude with nature in Celle, having nothing to forcibly occupy my time can be dangerous for me. I realized this more fully when I returned to work on Tuesday, and how nice it was to chat awkwardly with my coworkers and help the students again! Yes, that was an exclamation point. I have found that my German has gotten better even just two days into work, though it's still kind of, maybe dismal.
Some French students are here for the week as part of an exchange program, and they participated a bit in 4a yesterday, Susanne's class. We had fun singing them the bicycle song, which actually goes to the tune of "The Wheels on the Bus." I will say, though, that in order to be an effective teacher (and to have fun, period), one must act out situations with such dexterity that you'll be labeled certifiably insane if performed outside of the classroom. Anyway, I think the French kids were amused.
Today went surprisingly well, considering that it is my most "difficult" (in the sense that it's still easy) day. 4c actually behaved rather well. One of the girls in the class loves Hannah Montana, so, of course, a conversation went thus:
Student: "Kennst du Hannah Montana?"
Me: "Ja, ich kenne sie."
Student: "Na! Kennst du, wo sie wohnt?"
Me: "Nie, das weiss ich nicht. Aber, ich kenne sie."
Deniz, the class goof: "Bist du ihre Kusine?!"
Me: (classic eyebrow arch)
In short, because I'm American, I am expected to know everything about Hannah Montana...and be her cousin. (Yes, I know he was joking.) Hooray for the globalization of really bad American T.V.
But, in all seriousness, it really is great to be back. I knew this when I entered the classroom of 2a this morning, and Linda's face lit up as she exclaimed, "Hello, Jenni-fuh!" and proceeded to give me a full-on child-hug. Not a tackle, but the sweet kind of hug that only a child can give.
Blegh, that sounds like the maternal instinct is setting in. Believe me, it's not. But, I am very fond of my students. And, yes...they are my students.
Welcome back. Now let's see how long it will take until they become little hellions.
Well, that was fun.
So, let's get on with the more coherent part of this narrative. This week marks the return to work, for which I am incredibly glad. You have no idea. Herbstferien was too long, and, being the broke Fulbright scholar that I am, I wasn't able to fill my time with too much glamorous traveling and whatnot. Though I very much enjoyed my solitude with nature in Celle, having nothing to forcibly occupy my time can be dangerous for me. I realized this more fully when I returned to work on Tuesday, and how nice it was to chat awkwardly with my coworkers and help the students again! Yes, that was an exclamation point. I have found that my German has gotten better even just two days into work, though it's still kind of, maybe dismal.
Some French students are here for the week as part of an exchange program, and they participated a bit in 4a yesterday, Susanne's class. We had fun singing them the bicycle song, which actually goes to the tune of "The Wheels on the Bus." I will say, though, that in order to be an effective teacher (and to have fun, period), one must act out situations with such dexterity that you'll be labeled certifiably insane if performed outside of the classroom. Anyway, I think the French kids were amused.
Today went surprisingly well, considering that it is my most "difficult" (in the sense that it's still easy) day. 4c actually behaved rather well. One of the girls in the class loves Hannah Montana, so, of course, a conversation went thus:
Student: "Kennst du Hannah Montana?"
Me: "Ja, ich kenne sie."
Student: "Na! Kennst du, wo sie wohnt?"
Me: "Nie, das weiss ich nicht. Aber, ich kenne sie."
Deniz, the class goof: "Bist du ihre Kusine?!"
Me: (classic eyebrow arch)
In short, because I'm American, I am expected to know everything about Hannah Montana...and be her cousin. (Yes, I know he was joking.) Hooray for the globalization of really bad American T.V.
But, in all seriousness, it really is great to be back. I knew this when I entered the classroom of 2a this morning, and Linda's face lit up as she exclaimed, "Hello, Jenni-fuh!" and proceeded to give me a full-on child-hug. Not a tackle, but the sweet kind of hug that only a child can give.
Blegh, that sounds like the maternal instinct is setting in. Believe me, it's not. But, I am very fond of my students. And, yes...they are my students.
Welcome back. Now let's see how long it will take until they become little hellions.
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