I See Broken Glass

Time for an update on my bicycle commuting adventure. I'll admit that I haven't been as steadfast in my dedication to saving the planet by reducing the demand for fossil fuels. This winter, there were some cold, blustery rainy mornings when I just didn't have the gumption to pedal 14km to work through horizontal sheet rain, and so I drove the car instead. Even though I've wussed out more than a few times, I still manage to ride to work about four days out of five,

One of my frustrations on the bicycle is my propensity for getting flat tyres, or "punctures" as they call them here. I would get a flat tyre about once every couple of weeks. I carry extra inner tubes in my backpack and a hand pump and tools to change tubes, but it still takes at least 20 minutes to change a tube and re-inflate the tyre. Plus my hands get filthy with road grime and bike chain oil. I would have to inflate the punctured inner tube to try to locate the leak so that I could use the relative position from the valve stem to find the glass shard still lodged in the tyre. If I didn't locate the glass shard, then I would risk puncturing the new tube as soon as I re-inflated. I learned this the hard way. Aargh!

I was willing to live with this minor incovenience as long as the frquency of punctures was only once every two or three weeks. I found myself becoming quite paranoid about riding over broken glass. I never used to notice how much broken glass there is on the road before. Believe me, it's everywhere! I guess you don't see it unless it affects your life. Remember that goofy line from the movie, "The Sixth Sense" when Haley Joel Osment whispers to his therapist played by Bruce Willis, "I see dead people." Well I see broken glass, for which I've developed an acute sixth sense. If I passed over a particularly bad patch, I would stop my bike ride and carefully inspect each tyre to try pick out the embeded shards before they could do their dirty deed, those bastards.

I finally had to take drastic measures when I got four punctures in three days, two one Friday evening coming home, front and back tyres. Sheesh. One of my colleagues at work told me that they make tyres using Kevlar reinforcing which is the same material they use in bullet-proof vests. Ha! Just what the doctor ordered. I went to the Bike Barn to see if they had stocked these alleged tyres with the space age technology. Indeed they did; Vittoria Kevlar reinforced tyres using belts of dense nylon thread count, 120 threads per inch or about three or four times more dense than my regular tyres. The salesperson assured me that these would be much better at resisting punctures. At $80 per tyre I hope he's right. Steel belted radial car tyres don't even cost that much, but then they're not bullet-proof either.

I've had the new tyres now for two weeks, and I'm happy to report that I have not yet had another puncture. I'm not nearly as paranoid about broken glass anymore, although the rain still annoys me.

Curt

Librarian - week 1

I am born to be a librarian. OK, I was born to be a teacher, too, but being a librarian sure comes naturally.

As many of you know, I am addicted to 2 things: chocolate and books. So letting me loose in a library is like letting me loose in a chocolate store. (I couldn't go to Powell's Books in Portland without spending $100) So here I am all day, surrounded by books. As I process the returns, I eye each one and think "Ooh I'd like to read that." As I choose a few books for display, I think "I want to read that one." I easily find 20 books a day that I want to read, but sadly I don't have time to read 20 books a day. If only I did! I love to organise books, to line them all up evenly on the shelf, and to recommend reading ideas for both students and teachers. I am in charge of book talks for each class that comes weekly to borrow books, which is one of my strengths. I love to promote books.

Working at a library has a totally different pace to it than teaching. First of all, there's the luxury of being a trainee and operating at only 50% for the first few weeks. In teaching, you are 100% responsible for everything the first day school starts. I've never been in a job where you had time to learn, time to rummage around and find out where things are, time to explore, and people to guide you. It's strange to have time to acclimate and discover at my own pace; it's amazingly foreign to me.

The people I work with are amazing. They're patient. They explain things without making it seem like I should already know. Nobody has a prickly personality. Everyone is fun and funny. There's 5 of us librarian ladies and we're all the literate type (naturally) without being a library dragonlady who shushes kids all day and wears their hair in a tight grey bun. No, we got the giggles on Friday and couldn't stop laughing.

Besides laughing too much, we also had a balanced discussion on Friday about the merits of purchasing a book on Paris Hilton, Confessions of an Heiress. Students asked for more biographies of celebrities so the head librarians had purchased this one about Paris Hilton. The book will be popular, no doubt. The girls can't wait to read it. Does it send the wrong message to young girls? Absolutely. And here's what our debate was about: Is it the library's job to decide which messages to send? Ultimately it was decided to keep the book, but not before flipping through its pages and getting a few handy tips on how to be an heiress ("If you expect people to do everything for you, they will. It works for me.") If only there was a genre label we could affix that said IRONY instead of BIOGRAPHY.

This school is also well-funded. There's no rationing of copy paper, and the book budget is huge! Besides, the girls are exceptionally well behaved. It's such a difference compared to my last school. I recently went back and read my diary about the first week of my teaching job. Oh my. I was in tears by the 3rd day. Compared to my last experience, this place is absolute heaven! I feel like I belong here.

Rugby convert

I watched my first rugby game on TV over the weekend, and I'm sold on this sport!

First of all, I learned it's called a test or a test match, not a game. The All Blacks were playing the hated Australian national team, the Wallabies, for a GIANT trophy called the Bledisloe Cup which truly is a silver cup but it's about 3 feet high. Fortunately, the winning team captain is buff enough to lift it over his head effortlessly.

We're starting to pick up more of the rules, but are still a little fuzzy on some of them. Sometimes when there's a penalty, the other team gets to kick for 3 points. Sometimes there's a penalty and the other team gets a scrum. I'm not sure why. Anyway, I knew it would be good to watch a game and try to figure it out. But I also found myself watching the game just to marvel at it and appreciate it.

Here's some of the reasons why I love this game:

1. Just before the game, the All Blacks perform a Maori war dance called a haka. They really get themselves riled up, and it intimidates the opposing team. It's quite impressive.

2. When they run across the line at the end of the field (to score), the guy carrying the ball always slides on his belly in the grass, even if nobody is trying to tackle him. It looks like fun; like boys who can't stay out of the mud.

3. When the ball goes across the touch line (out of bounds), the play from the sidelines to throw the ball back in is called a Line Out. Here's what is so cool about it, though - the teams each LIFT a player up high to try to catch the inbounds throw. So there's about 4 guys at ground level who grab the legs (calves, thighs) of the catcher-guy so he becomes 10 feet tall. It's a little like lifts in pairs ice skating except the guy they're lifting is probably 250 pounds instead of 98. (that's why it takes 4 guys to lift him) And admittedly it's not quite as graceful as ice skating. But it's pretty phenomenal to watch nonetheless.

4. The game doesn't stop! When someone gets tackled, he has to give it to one of his teammates behind him, and everyone has to get off him and go chase the new guy with the ball. There's no huddle. No standing around for 3 minutes to catch your breath. No strategizing or calling plays or talking to the coach on the sidelines. They think on their feet.

5. These guys are tough. They are huge and strong, and they don't fall down and pretend they're hurt like soccer players do. They don't wear pads or helmets although recently some have begun taping their ears because they keep getting torn off. (in the next picture, you can see the player on the left has black tape around his head which protects his ears)

6. In spite of all that adrenaline and yes, testosterone, the game is still pretty structured and under control. There's just one ref on the field in charge of the game. He blows his whistle every few seconds to tell everyone to get off the tackled guy ... and they're already in the process of getting up anyway so it goes pretty smoothly. He calls offsides or some penalty, and nobody complains. They just line up for the kick or whatever. He's also exceedingly polite: "Line up, Gentlemen." "Step back, Sir" "Up you go." I half expect him to offer tea to the bleeding players any moment. The ref can also ask for confirmation from another official who is in charge of the videotaped replays, so if there's any question, he can get a second opinion. The overall rugby organisation even assesses penalties after the game is over: One Aussie spear-tackled a Kiwi and could have easily broken his neck. The next day, the offender was suspended for 5 games, even though there was no penalty called at the time. The fans weren't too concerned about the ref missing that illegal tackle because everyone knew it would still be dealt with after the game.

7. There's no 30 minute pre-game show from a studio that looks like it belongs in Vegas. There are no cameras during the game zooming in on the cheerleaders. There's not even much time for commercials - just halftime and injuries. There are no feature vignettes about the players visiting a children's hospital earlier in the day. There are no post-game interviews with big dumb athletes who can only give monosyllabic answers. Perhaps the New Zealand media realises that these athletes are good at playing a sport, but not necessarily good at talking.

8. And finally, WE WON! The All Blacks were down 11-20 at the half but came back to win 34-27. Not only did they win the Bledisloe Cup (which is the championship between NZ and Australia), they also clinched the Tri-Nations Cup (which is between NZ/Australia/South Africa).

PS - There's another reason why I like this game. The players don't wear saggy pants; they wear short shorts that show off their powerful thighs. They wear tight shirts that show off their physique. They're really buff and quite cute!

Megan's New Job at Dio

Here I go again. I'm starting a new job on Monday and I sure hope it goes better than the last job! I really don't think there will be a problem, considering I will be working as a school librarian at Diocesan School for Girls, a wealthy private school. Somehow, I don't expect these girls are likely to throw chairs through the window like what happened at my last school.

After I returned from the States, I applied for 4 jobs and went to 5 interviews and eventually got the job at "Dio" as they call it. One of the positions I applied for was at a public library, but I was worried it would include evenings and weekends, so I'm glad I'll be at a school library instead.

Dio is an Anglican school for 1500 girls from ages 5-18 and their parents pay thousands of dollars each year for them to attend. The girls all wear uniforms (of course) and the school recently began issuing each girl a laptop too. As you can imagine, they are far more technologically advanced than my previous school which didn't have internet or networking or a full computer lab.

In addition, this school has 5 librarians. I was attracted to the notion of being part of a team of librarians, rather than being the ONLY librarian at a school where I would be expected to know how to do everything ... because (I know you'll find this hard to believe) I don't always know everything. So this way, I can learn all about being a school librarian by working with the other ladies, and eventually I could go run my own school library if I want. Plus librarians don't have to grade papers or write report cards or plan lessons. Yea! And I'll be surrounded by books all day. Ahhh. Heavenly.

It's a bit of a relief to have a job again, although I've thoroughly enjoyed my 6 weeks of unemployment. I loved to sleep in and loll around doing nothing. But I knew I'd get bored eventually so I guess it's a good thing that I got a job. After being the cook for the last 5 years, Curt was starting to like having me home too, because I would have a hot meal waiting for him every night. But we wouldn't want him to get spoiled.

The only downside might be the commute. Dio is located in the center of Auckland, not far from Curt's work and we live in a western suburb about 11 kilometers away. But the traffic during rush hour is so slow that he prefers to ride a bike. I'm not sure what I'll do. I think he should put a seat on the back of his bike and give me a ride into town every day.

Commonwealthy Names

New Zealand is definitely a former British colony. There is an especially strong Scottish influence. As such, we've noticed different naming trends here compared to the US.

Curt works with a lot of men named Colin and Graham and Nigel. In addition, there seems to be a lot of Simons and Frasers. There's also plenty of people named Hamish and Angus, young and old. I'm afraid Hamish and Angus aren't very common names in the States. In fact, if you named your baby Hamish or Angus, your poor kid would probably be the laughing stock of the school.

Female names in New Zealand are not as distinctive except for Phillippa (or Pippa) which is common. As far as I can tell, most NZ female names are relatively similar to US female names. There's Emily and Jenny and Katie, etc. But there doesn't seem to be very many females named Tiffany or Jordan or Ashley, and there's few males named Justin or Taylor or Dakota.

Some British-sounding last names are: Doherty, Lawry, and Haworth. But I don't notice as much difference between NZ last names and US last names.

So far, all my observations have been concerning the "white" or Pakeha population. But NZ has a high number of immigrants and their names are becoming more prevalent. There's plenty of Chinese names and Indian names (the subcontinent, not Native-Americans) and a noticeable dearth of Spanish/Mexican names which I was accustomed to in the US.

There are also heaps of Maori names and Pacific Islander names that roll off your tongue lyrically. I had Maori students named Rangi, Teina, Arama, and Parai. There's beautiful Maori place names too like Papakura and Timaru and Rangitoto. Some Pacific Islanders' names can be really long and confusing for me. There's a man at church whose last name is Taule'ale'ausumai. The others at church can pronounce it, but I can't yet. Other islanders' names are easier for me such as Sapolu and Lolohea.

Of course, I'm not really pronouncing any of these names "right" whether they're Pakeha or Maori, because I say them all with an American accent instead of a Kiwi accent. But that's a whole 'nother topic.

All Black teams

New Zealand's high-profile rugby team is called the All Blacks, which has spawned many creative derivatives:
Tall Blacks - the NZ basketball team
Small Blacks - kids' fan club for the All Blacks
Wheel Blacks - NZ wheelchair rugby team (I'm not kidding)
All Whites - NZ soccer team
Black Caps - cricket team
Black Cups - barristas (making lattes, vs Australia's coffeeroos)
Black Sticks - hockey team
Black Sox - softball team
Black Cocks - badminton team
Black Magic - sailboat (America's Cup)
Black Ferns - women's rugby team
Silver Ferns - women's netball team
White Ferns - women's cricket team
White Sox - women's softball team

I have a few ideas for more team names:
• Naming the NZ Karate team would be easy - Black Belts.
• The curling team could be the Black Brooms. (if there is a curling team)
• Perhaps the polo team could be the Black Mallets or the Black Ponies.
• How about a team called Black Balls? Surely there's a "ball" team out there needing a name ... bowling maybe?
• I think the national swimming team should be referred to collectively as Black Water. That sounds ominous, don't you think? Maybe it would even help them beat those dastardly Aussies.
• The possibilities are endless. There could be Black Wickets (croquet) and Black Racquets (tennis) and maybe even the Black Holes (golf).
• While we're at it, the postal service could be the Black Mail and the store selling All Blacks memorabilia could be called the Black Market.
• Hasn't there ever been an All Black named Jack who they called Black Jack? Or one named Smith who was called Black Smith?
• Of course, for all I know, some of these names may already exist.

You probably noticed that most of the women's teams prefer to soften their image compared to the blackness of all those black teams. They go for silver teams and white teams and fern teams. (The fern is a national symbol) What I want to know is why the women's cricket team isn't the White Caps like the men's Black Caps? It seems appropriate since NZ is surrounded by so much water.

Overall, I heartily approve of New Zealand's clever team names. They're so much more creative than Team Canada or the Dream Team.

I have one confession, though. I have to admit that I do like one of Australia's team names. They call their soccer team the Socceroos. Cute.

Samoan neighbours

We were extrememly fortunate in the location of our rental house. It's on the water, and we've got great neighbours! To the left of us are 3 generations of a Samoan family. Loina (35) and her daughter Laei (14) live next door. Loina's mum (Toi), dad (Malanga), and brother (Sa'a) live in the next house. Their cat has become a member of our family too, and acts like he lives here with us.

Toi and Malanga are retired so Toi plays golf (a lot!) and Malanga loves to putter around the garden. He takes care of both his yard and Loina's and it's stunning. Naturally, he's thrilled to have Curt as a neighbour because previous renters didn't always take care of the yard, and you know how much time Curt spends mowing and weeding! Malanga also helps us identify local plants and trees. Apparently we have a grapefruit tree in our back yard, and another one that looks like it has miniature oranges. There's also a banana tree but it's too old to produce fruit or something.

Like many islanders, Toi and Malanga moved to NZ about 40 years ago. They still have a bit of an accent, but their kids and grandkids are pure Kiwi. One of the first things we learned was how to pronounce "Samoa." It's supposed to be SAM-O-uh rather than Suh-MO-uh. There is a large population of Samoans here. New Zealand is an ethnically diverse country. Here's a rough ethnic breakdown:
70% Pakeha (white people)
10% Maori
10% Pacific Islanders (Samoa, Tonga, Fiji, etc.)
10% Asian (China, India, Korea, etc.)

They invited us over for lunch one weekend back in April and fed us heaps of good Samoan food. It was really nice of them to reach out to us and to want to get to know us. Our only previous experience with Samoan culture was through our church in Portland which hosted a Samoan congregation. We often combined services with them and got to hear wonderful Samoan songs and dances, and even scripture read in Samoan.

Loina is a 4th/5th grade teacher at the same primary school she attended while growing up next door. Sadly, Loina and Laei are leaving on Saturday for 3 years in America, where Loina will be teaching in North Carolina and Laei will be finishing high school. They will have a great time but it's sad to see them go because they have been good neighbours. They bring in our mail when we're out of town, and they brought Curt some dinner after his 24-hour flight.

A few weeks ago, there was a BIG farewell party for Loina and Laei and all their friends from school, from the neighbourhood, and from the Samoan community. They rented a hall and there were probably 100 people there! The Samoan men prepared a hangi feast, cooking the food for many hours in a large pit in the ground. The food was yummy and I tried taro for the first time. They assured me it's even better when you put coconut cream over it. Mmmmm.

At the party, a couple of Loina's friends emceed a trivia contest for everyone ... and it was all based on American trivia. Well, you can imagine how happy we were that for once, we might actually know most of the answers! We were sitting at a table with more of our neighbours and they were pleased to have genuine Americans on their team. "How many states are there in the US?" "What's the title of the national anthem?" This is so easy!

Then they started playing short excerpts of old American TV theme songs. I'm afraid we weren't very much help there, but I was amazed at the theme songs our Kiwi teammates knew - Kojak, Benson, Battlestar Galctica? Overall though, our team won the trivia contest by a mile! (or maybe a kilometer?)

Next there was more entertainment: Laei entertained us with some piano pieces, and some other girls danced, and then Malanga got up to lead everyone in the final song/hymn.

Besides the good food, we had a great time, and we got to meet more of the neighbours. We felt honoured to be included.

Home

I've been thinking a lot about "home" recently because I just went home to Bellingham and then I returned home to New Zealand. They both felt like home to me, so I guess in that way I'm pretty lucky - I have 2 homes!

First about my American home:
I spent 2 weeks at my parents' house in Bellingham, Washington, a nice little town of 50,000 on the water near the Canadian border. It was a great town to grow up in, and a wonderful place to raise our 4 sons. It was nice to see the old familiar locations and to remark at all the new developments. We moved away 5 years ago, so obviously things had changed plenty. But overall, I'd still recommend it as a good place to live and I have heaps of happy memories of "home."

Sadly, my dad's health is not very good. He had a stroke July 1 and the right side of his face is droopy. He can still talk and eat but it's not as easy. The stroke has affected his balance too, so he is using a wheelchair when he's up, which isn't often. He sleeps about 20-22 hours every day. With help from my mom, he can get himself into a sitting position on the side of the bed, then he can stand up (with support) and pivot a little and sit himself down in the wheelchair. As you can imagine, it's quite an exertion for both him and my mom.

The most noticeable issue is his right eye. Because that side of his face is weakened, the eyelid is wide open. It gets dried out, and goopy, and worst of all, his cornea gets scratched. So they've started putting a patch on his eye to keep it shut. This seemed like a good idea until we discovered that his eyelid would open up UNDER the patch and proceed to get scratched even more by the patch resting directly on his eyeball. Sheesh. So we tried various solutions including taping it shut first and then putting a patch on. If you've ever scratched your cornea, you know how much it hurts, and when his eye hurts, he's miserable, the poor guy.

I wanted to get him a black pirate eyepatch to go over the white gauze. Especially with the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie showing, I thought it would be very jaunty. The little grandkids would love it! He'd look just like Johhny Depp ... well, maybe not. Alas, my mom nixed that idea.

There's also a struggle to get him to eat and drink enough to sustain his body. Sleeping so much doesn't leave much time for eating, and he doesn't even have much of an appetite. Three bites of a banana is a big meal for him. As you can imagine, he's lost about 15 pounds already and he was already skinny. His legs are like toothpicks.

He is alert and coherent at times. He knew who I was most of the time and knew the other kids and grandkids who were there. He can tell you when something hurts and when he needs to go back to bed and when he's thirsty. But he also gets confused about where he is and what decade he's in. He keeps thinking he's on a trip (to Illinois, I think) and my mom reminds him that he's home in Bellingham. He looks around the familiar bedroom and agrees. But 10 minutes later he thinks he's back in Illinois again. The funniest time was when my mom asked him," Where do you think you are?"
He replied, "In the Marines."
"I don't think they'd let you lie around in bed all day in your pajamas, do you?" she responded.
He looked around the room. "No, I suppose not."

My mom is beginning to take him to physical therapy and speech therapy and occupational therapy this week in the hopes that he can build up his strength. He had a stroke 5 years ago and fought his way back that time, so she's hoping he'll be able to do it again. She is an absolute saint.

Overall though, I had the feeling that this might be the last time I see Dad since I live so far away. So I sure was glad that I came home when I did. It was good to see him while he was relatively alert as opposed to a coma or something like 5 years ago. Mostly, it seemed like we could be at peace with each other. Those of you who know my dad know that he can be a difficult man and that we'd had a contentious relationship. However at this stage, he doesn't have the energy to be mad at me for anything, and he's so harmless and helpless that I'm not threatened by him anymore. All the old animosities seemed to have melted away which felt really good. I'm also really thankful that I had an extra week to sit around and talk with my dear sweet mother. It seemed like I didn't help very much but she sure made me feel appreciated anyway!

As I headed to the airport to return home, I realised how much I'd missed New Zealand. It was such a treat to hear the Kiwi accent when I arrived at the Air New Zealand counter. I was anxious to get back to my husband and my house and my church and the life that we've established there. When I went through customs at the Auckland airport, I didn't get in the line for foreign passports. I got to be in the line for New Zealand passports and residents. It felt good to be home.

Dad has a "minor" stroke, I go visit America

Two days after my job ended, I got a message from my mom that Dad has had a "little" stroke. He's been frail for the last five years, so this was not unexpected. Still, it seems as if his poor old tired body is shutting down. Curt and I will leave tonight. He will stay for one week and I will stay for at least two weeks. (He has to get back to go to work. I don't. Ha.)

It's with a mixture of melancholy and anticipation that we return to the States. Besides being there to help my mom and see my dad, we will get to see our boys! My brother and his family will also be there about the same time, so it seems like a good time to visit.

Overall, it seems fortuitous that I am currently unemployed and available to go visit the States. Perhaps everything is working out for the best.

Last Day

Last day of the term:
I gathered the kids in a big circle this morning and told them we would be saying some goodbyes today.

First of, we all need to say goodbye to Zann because he is going back to China. His one-year visa is up and it's time for him to go home. He's made tremendous progress lately. He started out as a major trouble maker because he didn't understand any English and was bored silly in class all day. So he'd throw paper airplanes or make funny faces or throw things or whatever. The only words he would say were "NO" and "F**". Finally about 10 weeks into the school year, he became known as the expert at Sudoku puzzles which one of the maths groups was doing. They started to ask him for help. He felt important. I brought him a giant interconnected quintuple Sudoko to keep him busy. He brought it back the next morning, solved. I was hoping it would keep him occupied for a few days, but he had finished it in 4 hours! Next, he began to say a few words to me like, "Miss, help me" and he gave me chocolate at lunchtime. I taught him how to play Battleship and he started to make friends. In the last few weeks, he had even started to sit with his reading group on the carpet when it was their turn. On the last day, his group was reading round-robin, and he read his assigned section aloud when it came to his turn. In English! That was huge progress. He'd started out as a major hellion and ended up as a bit of a class mascot. He still didn't do any of the work we did, but somehow we all got used to having him around.

The second goodbye that day was to me. I told them I hadn't been doing a very good job as their teacher and that I was going to be a librarian now. Nobody seemed terribly concerned. Mostly they wanted to know who the new guy was and if he was strict and if he would still give lollies to the winning maths group. (Beats me) A few girls were upset because they genuinely liked me (and my books) and I knew they'd miss me. One of them, Emily, told me later that she almost cried when I made the announcement. If I'd had a room full of kids like Emily, it would have been heaven! But even she knew that this class was not going well.

So that was it. It was pretty anti-climactic.

Our class was having a shared lunch today, the last day of the term. Everybody brought something to share. About 5 people brought bags of potato chips and about 15 people brought CHOCOLATE! They know me so well. The kids didn't know it would be a goodbye lunch for me, but it was.

I spent the rest of the day cleaning out my desk and trying to pack. I also had one more parent conference at 2:00.

At 2:30 I started a goodbye card for Zann which everyone signed including the PE teacher, etc. He liked it. Ellie and Laurie had made a card for me and had gotten it signed by our class plus other students plus other teachers. It was really nice of them to think of that! I would never have expected them to be the ones to do something so thoughtful. Thanks, girls.

At 3:00 the bell rang for the last time and I gave everyone a goodbye hug. A few boys graciously expressed their desire for me to stay. It made me feel good. I had a special farewell with Marcy who is a great kid but is going to need to make good choices in the next few years. Every year, there's always a few special students that I become extra-attached to; who seem to need me more than others. (Last year it was Cassie and Mariah) This year it was Marcy and Patricia. They have great potential, but will have to avoid the pitfalls of their neighbourhood gangs and the temptations of drugs and alcohol. I hope they make it. I hope they keep in touch. My final goodbye was for Emily, who is a miniature version of me. We were both in tears by this time. I feel so bad for deserting her. What a sweetie. She's coming in on Monday to help me pack.

And so ends my adventure as a New Zealand teacher. It didn't go as I'd planned. I cried.

Penultimate Day

Well, I resigned. It's sad. I hate to face the fact that I've failed in this job, but as one teacher friend at church told me, "You didn't fail; the system failed you!" (She's referring to a dodgy issue involving an extra half-day planning per week that the Ministry of Education allows for all overseas teachers. But my school doesn't give it to me. They also don't give their beginning teachers a full-day planning that the Ministry pays for. More about that some other time.)

The second term ended June 30 and that was my last day. Fortunately, here in New Zealand teachers leave in the middle of the year frequently so my resignation was not all that unusual. Heaps of teachers go to places in the northern hemisphere (mainly UK) to teach for a few years and plenty of northern hemisphere teachers come to New Zealand. With the northern school year happening from Sept-June and the southern school year from Feb-Dec, there's constant turnover year round. At my particular school of 15 teachers, I'm the 4th one in two years who left before the year was over. That shows you how common it is. But it also shows you how tough my school is.

My second-to-last day was almost as eventful as the previous post I wrote. Here goes-

First of all, Curt rode off on his bike and took both sets of car keys with him. Remember, he's on a bike. He doesn't need ONE set of car keys, let alone two! Aargh. So I couldn't get to work. I finally got a hold of him 40 minutes later and he borrowed a friend's car (thanks, Jon) and drove home to deliver me the keys. I thought about having my sweet neighbour lady drive me to school, and I'm sure she would have been glad to ... but I needed my car at 10:30 to go to a job interview for a school library position. Meanwhile, I called my school to let them know I'd be late and that someone should unlock my classroom and watch over the kids while they change into their PE clothes for aerobics. I arrived right as the bell rings. No time to catch my breath, just hit the ground running.

I had already arranged for 2 other teachers to watch over my class while I went to the interview. But Maria, who was going to watch them after recess, was home sick so I scrambled to get a third person to help out instead. My first helper arrived right on time and my kids were playing Bingo with Maori numbers so they were behaving pretty well. (I had a Maori student call out the numbers because I can't pronounce anything "right" in English, let alone Maori!) I raced out the door and drove to my librarian interview, which lasted about 40 minutes. I came back to find my class in the hands of Maria's reliever (substitute) instead of the third helper I'd recruited. Oh well. At least someone was covering for me.

So far, so good. There have been a number of glitches already but it's worked out.

Then about 1:30, Tim got indignant about being told three times to stop talking, and threw a chair through the window. OK, it didn't exactly go though the window. It's more like it hit it and bounced off. But it broke the window big time. There was broken glass inside and outside. I sent Patricia to go get a principal or deputy principal. They both came and took Tim away. Later, they came to get a few more students/witnesses to tell them what happened. Meanwhile, I was still trying to carry on with the reading groups on the carpet at the back of the room and make sure nobody went over near the broken glass. At least they got REAL quiet after the glass shattered all over.

Eventually the principal sent Tim back in to apologise to the class for losing his temper. He will have to pay for the new window. And he will spend tomorrow in the office doing work all alone instead of in here with the rest of the class. He's actually thrown his chair once before, when I confiscated his orange-coloured drink to see if it was "fizzy." Carbonated drinks aren't allowed and teachers just pour them out. When I took his drink that day, he threw his chair and stormed out of the room. He walked all the way to the back of the property and started heading out the gate as if he was going home. But he came back about 15 minutes later. Anyway, it wasn't his first chair-throwing incident. Then there was also the chair-throwing incident with Zann and Mitch, but that will story have to wait, too.

School finally ended at 3:00 but I had to stay till 5:00 for a parent conference. We had conferences Tues. and Wed. earlier this week, but one mom couldn't come then so she came today at 5:00. We finished at 5:30. Everyone else in the school was already gone. I was the last one out. I locked the doors and set the alarm. It was dark and lonely. It had NOT been a good day.

On the way home, I realised I should be thankful that Tim threw a chair through the window today because it reminded me why I was quitting. Ever since I submitted my resignation, I've been going back and forth, wondering if it was the right thing to do, feeling guilty for abandoning the kids and deserting my principal. But having a day like this reinforced my decision. I'm still sad and I still feel like I failed, but I think I made the right decision anyway. Tomorrow I finally get to tell the students that I'm leaving. It will be my last day, which may be even sadder.

PS - I didn't get the librarian job.

Megan's Typical Day

6:45 Curt wakes me up. He's my friendly alarm clock. I don't want to get up. I loll.
7:00 I finally get up, shower, eat toast for breakfast and drive to school (10 minute commute)
8:00 Arrive at school.

CHAPTER 1 - VIDEO
8:05 Looking around school for a Health video I'm supposed to show. But everyone's supposed to show it this week and I don't know who had it last.
8:07 Ask the PE teacher. He doesn't have it.
8:09 Try room 6, the teacher in charge of this health program. Uh oh. She's not here today.
8:11 Try room 7 since I'm in the neighbourhood. Nobody there.
8:13 Room 8. He doesn't know.
8:15 Try room 5 on my way back. Nobody there.
8:17 Room 1. Nobody there.
8:19 Ask the Science teacher. He doesn't know.
8:21 Ask room 9's teacher. She says it may be sitting on her table. I go look. Nope. Not there.
8:23 Room 6 again. I ask the students. They direct me to a drawer where the video is kept. Hallelujah!
8:25 Back to my room. I check the notes for the Health lessons and discover that I have the wrong video (#2). Jeez.
8:27 Back to room 6 to replace video #2 in her drawer. Her students don't know the whereabouts of video #1.
8:29 The teacher from room 4 is looking for video #2. Should I tell her where to find it? Yes. I do. She also is looking for the TV cart. I ask to use it after her. (there's only one TV on a cart)
8:31 Try room 2. YES! They watched it yesterday and have about 2 minutes left to see. She will send it over to me right away.

CHAPTER 2 - AEROBICS / PHOTOCOPYING
I haven't made copies of the other Health worksheets yet. (I was never told that I was supposed to have been teaching Health to my kids all term. So when I turned in my report cards, that section was blank. Yesterday the Curriculum Director told me to quick teach 5 or 6 Health lessons so I'll have something to write on the reports. Last night I got 3 lessons ready.)
8:30 Kids are starting to come in and get changed into their PE clothes They change in the room. (They wear PE clothes layered under their uniforms.) I can't leave the room to make copies because my students fight and steal and throw chairs. Maybe I can run to the copy room while they're in aerobics even though I'm supposed to help monitor the kids. (Teachers have to make all their own copies; there's no Diana Woods to help me)
8:31 Barry enters, clearly unmedicated: facial tics, punching, the usual. I quickly send him to the office for his meds.
8:33 The Asst. Principal stops by my room to remind me that I'm on duty as aerobics monitor today. Yes Sir.
8:35 Aerobics starts. I try to look like I'm monitoring my little heart out. There are 3 other teachers monitoring too. They won't notice if I slip away, will they?
8:50 I sneak out to make copies. I run into the Asst. Principal on the way. Caught red-handed. Oh brother.
8:55 Aerobics ends. Kids changing clothes in my room again. Lots of whooping it up, pushing, slapping with a shirt, etc.

CHAPTER 3 -LIBRARY / SWEARING AT THE TEACHER
My students need to type their persuasive writing assignment. There's only 16 computers in the library, though. So the other 14 kids will run around and play tag if I don't have something for them to do. This is why the photocopies were so crucial. Last night I made a crossword and cryptogram about slang terms for marijuana and stuff like that.
9:00 I remind them that we're going there to type and they must bring their draft with them. And bring a pencil. We walk across the blacktop to the library building. Kids jump in the puddles or run to be the first one to dibs the couch. A few chase each other through the trees.
9:02 Arrive at library. Half the class is typing. Half the class is doing the marijuana crossword puzzle. They LOVE it, thank goodness. Except 3 who didn't bring a pencil. They run back to get pencils.
9:45 Switch halves. About 5 kids didn't bring their draft. Each runs back to get it. More jumping in puddles.
9:50 Some kids are already finished. That's bad.
9:55 Starts to deteriorate. Kids on the couch are starting to throw pillows.
10:00 I'm still trying to get everyone's paper saved onto my memory stick. (There's no networking. No printer in the library. No printer in my room. I'll take my memory stick to the teacher room after school and print everyone's paper.)
10:10 Zann (Chinese boy, speaks no English) dangles a little spider in front of Laurie and Ellie. They both let out blood-curdling screams, just as he'd hoped they would. The Foods teacher from across the blacktop comes outside to see who is being murdered in the library.
10:15 Time to go back to the classroom. I leave my trusted computer-wizard, Sam, to stay with 2 boys who are still typing. He can save their work onto my memory stick. It's totally against the rules to leave 3 people here unattended, but I can't stay here any longer with all the chaos. (Later I find out that Sam did their typing for them while they played games on the computer)
10:18 We walk back to the classroom. More running and chasing and lots of punching.
10:20 Ellie asks if she can go get a drink. I say no, recess will start in 10 minutes. She says "F*** You." I send her to the principal.
10:25 She returns and clearly has not been to the principal yet. She tries to bribe me with her lunch money ($5) and pleads me not to tell.
10:30 Bell rings. I take Ellie to the principal who makes her call her mom and tell her what she said.

CHAPTER 4 WATCHING VIDEO / MATHS
During recess, I go to room 4 to get the TV cart so we can watch the video. Someone else has usurped it, claiming higher importance. We'll have to go back to the library to watch it instead.
10:50 Bell rings. Students mosey in. (There's no tardy bell 5 minutes later)
10:55 Most kids have come in by now. I explain the situation. We walk over to the library again. You know the routine.
11:00 Can't get the VCR to work. Unhooked cable from DVD player and hooked up VCR but it's not working. Kids are NOT waiting patiently. (Luckily I've removed the pillows this time.) Andrea tries to help. Sam, my techno-wizard tries to help. We try every configuration.
11:10 We give up. Everyone walks/runs/jumps/punches their way back to the classroom except Sam who stays to tinker with the VCR.
11:15 Let's do Maths instead. I've confiscated most of the games they used to play like Battleship, Secret Code and Checkers because they lose or throw the pieces. The remaining activities are not as exciting.
11:20 I'm working with one group on the floor, reading bar graphs. Allison punches Mark for the umpteenth time. I send her to the foyer to do her maths. I think she has a crush on Mark.
11:29 Mike finally returns from the library. He owes me 16 minutes of his lunchtime.
11:30 Sam returns. He got the video working. We'll try again later.
11:35 Switch groups. Mike's group is trying hard to win the lollies for being Group-of-the-Week. They're way ahead of everyone else.
11:40 Sam reports that Mike has matches. I confiscate them. Mike says he found them. Uh huh.
11:45 Patricia and Laurie haven't done any maths at all day. They say the activities are all too boring.
11:50 Maths over. Lunch doesn't start till 12 and I don't have anything short for them to do. Luckily, another teacher arrives and says she is here to take my class because I have a visitor in the office. It's Ellie's mom, who has brought flowers AND chocolate AND a big long letter AND an apology written by Ellie. The flowers smell good.

CHAPTER 5 - LUNCH
12:00 Lunch. Chocolate.
12:16 Mike is now allowed to go to lunch.
12:20 I need Andrea and Zann to write some student reflections for their report cards.
12:30 Andrea is done.
12:50 After 30 minutes, here's what I've gotten from Zann - English: "It's hard." Maths: "It's easy." The character trait he says he's good at is: "Honesty" which is a crock. (He always stole stuff from my storage closet so now I lock it. Instead he steals from other kids, hides their stuff, and denies it. He thinks it's cute.)

CHAPTER 6 - WATCHING VIDEO, 2nd attempt

1:00 Bell rings. Kids mosey in. Mike kicks his rugby ball in the classroom. I put it in the cupboard.
1:05 Off to the library for the 3rd time today. The kids who stay in line and walk appropriately win the right to sit on the couch. I send Sam ahead of everyone to get the VCR ready.
1:10 Video is pretty boring. Kids pay attention about half the time but then talk, make shadow puppets in the sunlight, kick the person next to them, and fight over the armrest on the couch.
1:40 We don't finish the video but we saw enough. Back to the classroom.
1:45 I make them sit quietly for 10 minutes because they were so naughty during the video.
1:46 Tim is singing. We start over. I send Tim into the hall.
1:48 Mike talks. We start over. Mark and Mitchell are drawing which is good. A few kids are reading.
1:51 Barry talks. We start over.
1:56 Five minutes is good enough. I bring Tim back in.

CHAPTER 7 - HEALTH PRESENTATIONS
1:57 Time to start another Health lesson which involves working in groups and presenting.
2:15 Start presentations
2:25 Mark is whispering to Mike who is whispering to Tim who is whispering to the next guy. What are they doing?
2:30 The boys' mouths are all moving like they're chewing cud or something. And they're curling their tongues. There's little white things on the tips of their tongues. It's spitwads! We pause so I can confiscate all their paper and they can pick up the spitwads from the floor.
2:45 Finished with presentations. I pass out newsletters. They write about their behaviour in their Learning Logs. Pack bags. Put up chairs.
3:00 Bell rings. Whew
3:15 Curriculum Leader comes in with some changes I have to make on my report cards. He admits it would have good if he had shown me how to do it before we started. I'm so clueless most of the time, and all year nobody has been training or orienting new people like me. Like the fact that I didn't know I was supposed to be teaching health all year! The report card changes (270) have to be done by tomorrow morning.
3:30 Get ready for tomorrow. Make copies. Put away maths.
4:00 I go to the teacher room to print everyone's persuasive writing. Oops. Forgot to bring paper for the printer. Back to my room to unlock the closet where I keep my paper. Then back to the teacher room. Someone else has the computer. I wait my turn.

CHAPTER 8 - HOME
5:30 Home.
5:31 Plug in laptop and start entering changes to report cards.
5:45 Curt arrives and says he's had a poopy day. He tells me his problems and then I tell him about my day and he feels all better. He's quite entertained by all that goes on at my school. When I told him the part about wasting 30 minutes looking for the video this morning, he said "Why don't you just email everyone and ask who has it?"
"because we don't have email"
"Oh yeah."
He suggests I write a blog about it all.

Flute Fiasco

Oh my. I just played flute at church for the first time and it was awful!

It’s Mother’s Day and the song was Ave Maria (appropriately enough).

The music is 9 pages long. I play the first page correctly and then comes pages 6, 7, 8, and 9. What? Omigosh … my pages are out of order!

What was funny was that page 6 sounded just fine while the rest of the choir was singing page 2. And page 7 sounded good with page 3. Page 8 fit with page 4. It wasn’t until I got to page 9, the end of the song, that I realized I was on the wrong page because I knew the song wasn’t over. The choir was still singing!

Panic sets in. Where are they? Probably pg. 6. Oh good, I have rests there. Uh oh, that’s apparently not the right place after all. Even worse: the choir has come to the part where THEY have rests right now, and I’m supposed to be playing!!! Luckily, the organist covers for me and starts to play the flute line. I’m l o o o o k i n g. Where are they? Normally I could find my place by the words of the song but all they say is Ave Maria about 30 times so that's no help.

Then the men come in. I’m supposed to play along with that part, too, but I haven’t found it yet. Then the women sing. Help! Finally Mark, the director, tells me in a very loud whisper “56 – come in at bar 56!” OK. I found it. 56. It’s on page 6. Got it.

Now I play pages 7, 8, and 9 (for the second time) and finish the song with the choir … although I do play the last note an octave lower. On purpose. Because I’m too chicken to try to hit a high E natural.

Oh brother. Is there a hole somewhere I can crawl in? Please?

I was so nervous about playing today. My hands were shaking and Mark kept telling me to relax during rehearsal. Ha. Mostly I was nervous about being out of tune because I’m not very good at that, as my previous directors know. But I wasn’t at all worried about getting lost (obviously I should have been) because I NEVER get lost. And even if I did, I was always really good at finding my place again. This was one of my strengths. Staying in tune is not. Sheesh.

I’ve made mistakes during services before. I’m sure the choir in Portland remembers the F sharp chime that was supposed to be an F natural. But this mistake is going to go down in history as a real doozy. Oh help. I think it’s safe to say that I won’t be playing flute with this choir again for a L O N G time.