Rainy day writings

Yesterday I was introduced to the teachers of the three schools I’ll be working with. In most cases I was introduced to the students as well. What was so cute was that the kids seemed so surprised at the fact that I was from San Francisco. Albeit, as children, and this applies for children of any nationality, you can say almost anything to them and they would “oooh” and “ahh” over it. The children were quite interested in me as it would seem, which ultimately sets the bar quite high for me. Well perhaps a different sort of bar. If the kids weren’t interested in the first place, then I’d have to work very hard to get their interest and keep it. In this situation, I’ll have to keep their interest and not mess up. So perhaps the bar isn’t that high to begin with. But teaching a class – a French class no less – for forty-five minutes a day for only twice a week has its sets of challenges. I’ve seen Voon try to teach an unruly class for thirty minutes and for the most part it’s very unfruitful. At such an age, any distraction for the kids is a welcomed one. They are able to chat and talk for the five or so minutes it takes for transitions to occur. Most of the times teachers tend to take advantage of that few minutes to catch up on latest news or the simple “hi, how have you been”s. In those fleeting moments, children take advantage of that and begin conversations of their own. And with good reason. Why not take the next few minutes to chat with your neighbor about who knows what? Teachers do it, why not them?

So I suppose the best way to discontinue that is to have them start doing something when I get in. A song perhaps. I wish I had some of my teaching stuff with me that way at least I’d have some references to begin with. Mmm.. what’s a good song to start my lesson with. Abc’s would be too childish but I might just have to start there.

I’m glad I have a good view of nature outside my window however small it may be. It’s very strange to be looking out into a river and a hill full of trees. Living in the Bay Area definitely gives you more nature than Southern California, but to be able to look out my window and see a river and trees is something rather uncanny to me. It’s truly beautiful and the leaves on the tree are beginning to change colors. I don’t know yet if they’ll be as pretty as the pictures of New England’s fall foliage, but there are signs of promise. I might actually see a real fall here! The weather’s that of a Bay Area winter already. Low sixties in temperature, sporadic rain, and grey clouds. Yep, definitely a winter I’m accustomed to. However, it’s only the first day of October. There’s much more of fall to see before the real winter shows its face. From what I’ve gathered, chances of snow are actually rather slim. Creil is about the same latitude as Canada and it snows in Seattle. Perhaps I’ll see more snow fall this winter. What an auspicious winter that will be.

What definitely reminds me that I’m not in a middle of nowhere town is the recurrent trek of a barge crossing my window view. At least there’s some industry going through the city. The sounds of motor vehicles constantly flow through my open window. Even voices from the street are heard from my third floor room. There’s a tall building atop the hill between the thick forest of trees. Swans calmly bob in the river and every so often I catch them hopping along the water’s surface, their immense wings outstretched, as they begin to take flight away from the next barge carrying its massive load. Beautiful nature surrounded by industry and the ever-present human.