After losing my cell phone at a place that we were highly encouraged by our esteemed director not to attend, I have been a bit incommunicado these days. Hopefully this small update finds everyone well and not too angry with me for my failure at responding to text messages!
I’ve joined my host sister’s volleyball team, which I feel honored to be a part of as it consists exclusively of her sisters. Although we have yet to play an actual game, I am quite excited by the idea of my new team and even more so, the new topic of conversation that it gives me to use with Amanda, my host sister.
Our air con kicked the bucket last week, but I’m fond of the opportunity it gives us to open the windows, push back the curtains, and let a little Marshallese breeze into our bubble. Sleepover days of yore come over me as the three of us pull our various futon and mattress pads closer to the fan before hitting the sack for the night (which happens pretty consistently between 10-11 pm if my mom and dad will ever believe it!)
Anna’s observation of my classroom came and went, providing assurance that I am not doing things all wrong, an easy sentiment to come by when you are a first year teacher attempting to teach a roomful of 11th graders how to teach (Teacher Academy). But, the ups and downs of teaching are slowly beginning to merge into more ups than downs, and that little phrase that people love to utter so much, “It gets easier!” is finally seeming like it just might hold a glimmer of truth.
Rather than feeling flustered or overwhelmed by unfamiliarity around me, I am beginning to walk down the road and feel comfortably in my place, recognizing certain dogs and certain chickens, like the one with the injured leg and a funny hop, and becoming more familiar with landmarks, like the manure pile on ocean side or the group of children wielding slingshots on lagoon road. One of my more successful teaching ventures lately has been teaching a band of children that like to stand on the roof how to blow noises with grass, which they learned remarkably well, although their parents and neighbors must hate me for the resulting noise.
Many thanks to all those who have been sending their thoughts, emails, letters, and special packages.
Bar lo kom! Happy holidays!
~Heather
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