Somehow I agreed to
teach an English class, and now I don’t know what I was thinking at the time. I
am not a teacher, and teaching a language is pretty difficult. They tell me:
But you know English, right? It’s easy. Yeah, right. I thought that it would be
easier being that I am trying to teach the kids in my house, but it
really is not. They don’t listen, even while their mom is taking the same
class. Sometimes she brings the belt to class to threaten them to be quiet and
listen. But they continue to talk, fart, and laugh throughout. This makes me
hate Monday nights. One of the neighboring girls is in the class, so at least
it is not all boys. When I agreed to teach I made sure to tell them all not to
invite anyone else, as I did not want it to turn into some big production.
Little by little people have found out and they ask to be in it, but thankfully
they have not been persistent about it. We hold it in the living room, where
they dragged this huge chalkboard from the neighboring house where the owner
also asked if there was a class for adults. I sent the message back with the
little kids to tell her that not at this time, and yet we are still using her
board. I have a new appreciation for teachers, or want-to-be teachers as this
requires a patience I do not have. Or maybe it is the kids I am trying to teach
and not me. That’s probably it. Either way, it makes me dread Mondays. It is a
bit frustrating to try and teach them useful words when all they really want to
know is how to call each other (and myself!) names. But I have to remind myself
that they are just kids. My littlest host brother has only learned the word
“hungry” and so he goes around all day and especially during class saying:
hungry, hungry, hungry. He really is always hungry, and eats nonstop. He is the
little guy next to the xmas tree in my pictures.
This weekend we have
been planning a trip to a laguna nearby with the environment youth group. It is
a fundraiser, and although we have been trying to plan this for the past month,
I still have no idea what is going to happen. All I know is that somehow I am
in charge of cooking, and I don’t even know how to cook dominican style
spagetti and moro. I am just going to follow the other girl’s example. But
first I have to buy the ingredients, and collect the rest of the money for the
trip. This is going to be fun. I am not big on last minute planning, but I have
no choice and let things fall as they may, even if the trip is tomorrow. I will
definitely have someone take pictures for me to show, as I will be slaving away
in the kitchen. Wish me luck.
