Jordan for Spring Break

 The school year is progressing well.  We just got back from a great spring break trip to Jordan (with a day each in Frankfurt and İstanbul en route).  We traveled with our friends Brock and Cathy and had a super time.  We visited a friend from Oakland who is now teaching at an international school near Amman.  We floated in the Dead Sea (weird feeling!).  We saw where Jesus was baptized and stood two meters from Israel along the River Jordan.  We explored the amazing ancient city of Petra, which Brooke has been wanting to see since she was little.  We snorkeled in the Red Sea in Aqaba in view Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and Israel.  We rode camels through the desert in Wadi Rum.  THE FOOD WAS DELICIOUS!  It was a great trip (and I didn't even mention Frankfurt or İstanbul)!

I think spring has arrived (I say cautiously) in Almaty.  While we were away, most of the snow melted -- leaving the ground saturated and dirty looking.  I'm hoping to see flowers and leaves on trees soon.

Saint Patrick's Day, and Mr. Wolf's birthday!

Today was, as stated, Saint Patrick's Day, and Mr. Wolf's birthday!

Mr. Wolf is my class mascot.  He's a felt hand-puppet from some fairy tale set of characters, though I can't tell you how old he is or where he's from.  Michael rescued him from an abandoned box of supplies, and for four years, he brightened Michael's office.  Now that I teach elementary, Michael thought it best that Mr. Wolf came to my classroom to help me.  He's great!  He sits on my whiteboard, greeting students, reminding them of special projects, telling them how many days until Spring Break... the kids ask questions about him and gleefully play along.  We write stories about him.  I often show them sample work by Mr. Wolf -- posters about habitats or narratives about his travels.  He really is a part of our class. 


So, I decided that he should have a birthday party, just like everyone else! To my surprise, several students brought presents for Mr. Wolf.  One girl (she's so adorable) made tiny paintings of the tundra/forest and Mr. Wolf in different places "for Mr. Wolf's desk, so that he can remember his habitat and places he's been".  She then made him a leprechaun hat, a birthday hat (and matching red bow-tie), and a third outfit "for the last day of school!" (a Hawaiian shirt, sunglasses and a suitcase).

 Other kids made cards or brought special treats for Mr. Wolf "to eat when he's hungry".  They asked how old he was and what he wanted for his birthday.  We made rainbow murals with pots of gold hanging off of them.  I brought in cookies and frosting (I made the night before), then dyed the frosting all the colors of the rainbow -- right in front of them, like magic!  Then we decorated them.  The kids sat there, eating the cookies and smiling.
"This is the best birthday party ever!" "Well, at school anyway..."  "Yeah, at school!" 


Yeah!  Best birthday party at school.  Yay me.  Happy Birthday, Mr. Wolf!  Maybe we'll celebrate on February 29th next year, just for fun. :)

"NAURYZ, NAURYZ!", and other classic songs about the Kazakh spring festival

We just had a school-wide celebration for our Kazakh spring festival, Nauryz ("nar-eeze").  The Kazakh kids (with Kazakh passports, who are learning Kazakh language and history as part of the mandated requirements for a Kazakh diploma) dressed up in all kinds of beautiful and intricately-patterned national dress, performed songs, dances and plays about the spring festival and traditional life on the steppe.  The ending finale had all the students singing together... it was some singing that only a mother, or teacher, could love -- but boy, did they sing with passion!  The only part I could hear was the chorus, which was, as you may have guessed "NAU-RYZ, NAU-RYYYYYYZ!"  I loved it!  I wish this kind of stuff could happen more often, so that I could feel the old culture of this big city and not just the exhaust and detachment of productivity and modernization.

Elephant and Piggie! Hooray!

 This month is literacy month at AIS.  We have read-a-thons (in PJ's and everything!), we have parades where we dress up as main characters in our favorite books. And we dress up our doors as book covers for a book we love.  But what book to choose?  Do you know how many WONDERFUL books there are out there?  I had a feeling, but I didn't really realize it until I started teaching elementary. I think I've read more than 100 books with my students so far, and not one of them has been bad. So, what book to choose? We listed a few of our favorites -- Amelia Bedelia, Elephant and Piggie, Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus!, Cowboy and Octopus, Henry and Mudge... the list went on.  We narrowed it down to three.  Then the kids had to each decide on what they wanted, and then draw a mock-up of what they thought the door should look like.


Elephant and Piggie got the most votes, and their designs were pretty creative!  They each made their own Elephant or Piggie and we stuck them on the door.  My co-operating teacher drew big versions of the two characters, and then we stuck it all on the door.  It looks great!  And the school looks great, too -- so many awesome books coming to life.  My next-door-neighbor-classroom did the Magic School Bus.  Sara, the teacher, took pictures of each of the kids and then they put their heads into the windows of a school bus, flying into a giant eyeball.  Michael's class did The Outsiders, with brooding silhouettes and bloody switchblades (granted -- much less cheery, but it shows a real understanding of the theme!).  Isn't reading fun?

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Photos by Brooke,
book cover image sourced from the internet

In Kazakhstan: power surges = glass showers

It's true!  One day, I turned on the light and the bulb shattered above my head, raining down bits of glass bulb onto me and into all of our shoes sitting in the entry way.  Lovely.  Michael got the vacuum and made me stay where I stood, trying to pick up all of the glass before I moved my (bare) feet.  Apparently, this happens a lot.  Another of our friends told us that they had just set the table with their lovingly-prepared meal, only to have it ruined when the light above the dinner table shattered into their meal. (They went out to eat instead.)  We also seem to be going through a LOT of light bulbs.  In our last house in Berkeley, we bought long-life bulbs when we moved in, and never had to change them again.  Here, we've replaced several bulbs.  We can only assume that there is some shoddy wiring in the walls (most-likely done by the landlord's cousin/brother-in-law/best friend), and/or the power surging through the wires is so unpredictable that the bulbs burn out more quickly.  Now to find new bulbs.  And, no, that's not as easy as you'd think...  Sigh.

Where's the snow patrol?

We've had a lot of snow this winter.  Okay... maybe it's not a lot for Kazakhstan, but for me (having lived in California and Australia for most of my life) it's a lot.  Snow makes me cranky.  It's cold. It's wet.  It makes a mess of the floor.  Most of all, it makes driving in more dangerous than normal... and that's saying something!  Driving in Almaty is an aggressive combat sport and should be done with care.  They invent third lanes on two-lane roads. They stop on the yellow light, but then go BEFORE the green light is on. Who does that?  Michael says that, while most drivers in the world look ahead at the road and see the cars, drivers in Almaty look ahead and see the spaces between the cars -- and then proceed to squeeze into them at speed.  So, on snowy days where the roads are slick and the snow-plows haven't yet done their jobs (where's the snow patrol?), this is a major hazard.  The snow melts and then freezes into a thick layer of ice, causing us to skid around corners even when we're only going about 5 or 10 km/h.  The other day, we tried to get out of our garage (under the building) and they hadn't shoveled it correctly.  I can still smell the burning rubber.   Have I mentioned that I love my husband?  He does all the driving here.  And he's good at it!

Another chilly (but sunny!) day

Winter in Almaty is cold.  For the majority of December and January, temperatures were well below freezing -- sometimes bitterly so.  Often the pollution is so bad you can't even see the Tien Shan Mountains.  This is all a shock for us having recently moved here after living four years in the San Francisco Bay Area where it never freezes and our winter coat is just a sweater and a light jacket. Today, however, is not one of those disgusting days.  It's cold, sure, but the sun is out and the air is refreshingly clean.  I can easily make out pine trees on the slopes of the mountains.  The sky is blue.  I'm eager for spring to arrive, but, as long as it's going to be cold, more of these sorts of days will keep the spirits high.

We almost died today: The Asian Winter Games

Nope -- not kidding. For the details, check out our friend Brock's blog.  He describes it well and I don't really want to re-live it by re-telling the story.  I will say it was terrifying.  Thanks for saving my life, Brock!

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Today I Joined a Mob




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Earthquake drill and pizza -- a great day!

Almaty sits at the foothills of the mighty Tien Shan Mountains (in Chinese 天山, "Heavenly Mountains"), the northernmost reach of the Himalayas.  In thirty minutes, we can be high above the city and its smog.  The mountains are big, and growing.  Pik Talgar, the 96th tallest mountain in the world, is just 40 kilometers from here and stands at 4,979 m (16,335 ft).  Needless to say, we are in an earthquake zone.  Moving to seismic zones seems to be a common trend for Brooke and me.  The last two places we've lived, Tokyo and the San Francisco Bay area are also notorious earthquake zones.  So, to feel a bit more prepared, on Thursday last week our school had a earthquake drill. We were told to get under our tables, hold a leg of the table, and be quiet to listen for instructions.  I took this opportunity while we were under the tables to remind students why it was a bad idea to stick gum under furniture.  "Oooo!" they responded.  (Fortunately, the undersides of the tables were all clean.)  The administrators walked around the building checking classrooms and then we were given the all-clear.  Back to SSR.

In my last blog post back before Christmas, I mentioned how my homeroom won our school competition to make a torch for the upcoming (this week's) Asian Winter Games.  At lunchtime on the same day as our earthquake drill, my 12-year-old homeroom class was rewarded with a pizza lunch in the dining room of the nearby (5-minute walk) Hotel Chagala.  The kids were very polite and had a great time (and filled up on pizza).  I love this group of kids and am glad to have chosen to continue next year teaching the 12-year-old classes.

Last day before Winter Break

I'm sitting in my classroom listening to Save Me San Francisco by Train. It's the last minutes of school before the Winter Break. There's an excitement and sadness in the noise in the hallways. It's mostly good stuff.  Kids are excited that they're going on vacation (either staying here in Almaty and don't have to go to school or they're going to cool places like the Swiss Alps to ski or just hang out with their wherever they're from).  Other kids are saying good-byes to their classmates whose families are moving on to another city and another international school. We had one student who is leaving the 12s after several years here. The kids were sad to see their classmate leaving and they expressed it so maturely -- I was impressed. They appreciated their classmate's qualities that they'll miss and expressed their emotions about their friend leaving.  So often I've seen kids leave and it's a flat good-bye, like they're just going home at the end of the day. It's hard to explain, but if you've experienced it, you probably know what I mean.  Maybe it was perceived in my other schools that saying good-bye and genuinely expressing your love of your classmates would show a weakness? Maybe there just wasn't such a sense of teamwork and community? Maybe they just didn't know how to do it or my international school students are such pros are saying good-bye to their friends.  It's probably some combination thereof.  Anyway, what I saw today was wholly appropriate for a good friend and classmate who was leaving our school.

We had a great morning together.  We had a team-building activity in our homerooms to build a torch for the Asian Winter Games which will be held here in Almaty in February.  It was so cool to see the kids working together to make a design and to decorate the classroom.  We had an assembly and each of the classes got to take a lap of the gym to show off their creations.  Of all the secondary homerooms, ours won!  The kids were so proud of themselves and I was proud of them for their teamwork.

We're off in a few days to spend our Winter Break in Poland and Belgium and very excited about that.

13 boys and 3 girls in a small room...

Since Michael wrote a little postcard from his classroom, I thought I would, too.

I have 13 boys and 3 girls in my class(!).  It's a small room designed to hold about 12 students comfortably, but the school is way over-enrolled and many elementary classes already have over 20 students.  That limit in space makes it hard to separate two students when needed.  ("Okay, you -- move 5 inches to the left!")  

In some ways, boys are a lot of work.  They aren't always naturally inclined to want to sit still and write, and often need a lot more excitement injected into an assignment if it involves being quiet and focused.  They cry way more than my girls -- every time they are tired, hurt, frustrated, angry, sad.   And, most importantly, they're very physical:  they fight/wrestle/run into walls/poke each other with their sharp pencils for fun -- and someone always gets hurt.   (Fortunately, they are able to repair friendships instantaneously, which is more than I can say for most grudge-holding girls.) Sometimes I just feel exhausted from having to be so physically involved (pulling them off the tables, picking them up from wrestling matches on the floor, guiding them to where they're supposed to be instead of where ever they are).  Here are my three most memorable phrases from last week:

•  "This is the Reading Corner, not the Karate Corner!"
• "Hey!  You'd get a red card for headbutting in soccer -- and you get one in this class, too.  Go sit down."
• "We do not play suffocate in the bean bag!"  

They're making me realize that I have to be a lot more explicit with my instructions ("I'm sorry -- I forgot to say not to break it.").  Fortunately, they do apologize and follow my instructions when I reprimand them.  I think this is because I preface all of my "I'm upset because..." statements with "I like you, friend!"  Somewhere along the line, they see that I'm not just picking on them -- I really do like them and am trying to teach them more than just academics.

And, yes -- even with all this, they are pretty adorable.  One kid to another in my chess club:  "We can't beat Mrs. Fitzgerald at chess because she's super smart and the strongest."   One boy to another: "It is too okay for boys to cry!  I bet your daddy cried the day you were born and he saw you for the first time."   One boy to me after I told him why his friend was mad at him and how to fix it:  "Thank you for helping me be a better friend, Mrs. Fitzgerald."   And even:  "I think you are the best at telling us about Cultural Studies.  I love Cultural Studies!"   Me too!

Yeah. I guess I can stand another day.  : )

They've got a case of the what-ifs.

Just a quick post in between my classes. I think the 12 year-old brain is fascinating. They're always looking for the exception to the rule; I kind of like this or at least can identify with it. I'm not saying that I have a 12 year-old's brain, but ...

Anyway, their favorite way to begin a question is, without a doubt, "What if...?" All day long, every class, every day, "What if...?" I should write some of their what-ifs down, but they fly at me so quickly I don't really have a moment to. I should maybe, at least, start tallying them up.

I talk to teachers who have students slightly older than my seventh graders and their students don't really ask this many what-ifs. I wonder if there's a critical age where the what-ifs drop off. For me, I remember the age where I knew whether I wanted to ask the question or not. You start thinking of what the possible answers will be before you ask the question and then, if you don't like what's a probable response, you don't ask the question. I don't think they're there yet. Sometimes they make more work for themselves.

The bell just rang and the students are starting to stream in now. Questions are already flying. I wonder how long before a what-if pops up. What if one doesn't?? Should I worry?

October updates

We just wanted to update you all on how things are going here in Almaty.

We're nearing Fall Break and will have a week off!  We've been working hard.  Brooke has been enjoying teaching mythology and Ancient Greece to her seven year-olds.  They made some great "armor" and had a chance to show it off.  They also wrote election posters for characters they learned about in their mythology unit.  Brooke and I teach, of course, at the same school, but she teaches on the other side of the campus so we really don't run into each other in the hallways.  I had the chance to visit as the kids were putting on all their armor and they were soooooo excited.  Fantastic.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the school, I've been teaching about Mesopotamia and reading short stories with my 12 year-olds.  Our latest story was "Seventh Grade" by Gary Soto.  I think the kids could really identify with the themes, especially the awkwardness and embarrassment that can come from trying to act cool in order to impress the opposite sex.  Last week there was a school dance and the kids had all sorts of drama and awkwardness going on as they decided who they were going to ask to go with them.  I enjoyed reading notes that I confiscated or that were left behind on the desks when they left the room: things like, "I can't go with you.  I've already promised so-and-so."  Mind you, if someone asks you to go with them to the dance, you still must pay for your own ticket and you'll still end of dancing in a circle with all your classmates anyway so it's mostly symbolic.  I really enjoy working with these 12 year-olds.

We're going to Kyrgyzstan for Fall Break in a group of ten teachers from the school, if we get our visas, that is.  There isn't much time -- just two more days.  Basically the Kyrgyz Consulate has been stalling, we think, in order to get more money from us.  Hopefully our negotiator from the school can work it all out with the money we've given him for our visas.  We heard that there was some physical aggression on one of his visits to the consulate.  If/when we do make it to Kyrgyzstan, we're going to the capital, Bishkek, and then taking a trip around Issyk-Köl, one of the largest fresh water lakes in the world.  Bishkek is just a few hours drive from here.  As the crow flies, Kyrgyzstan is 15 miles directly south of us here in Kazakhstan, but the big Tian Shan mountain range, the northernmost extent of the Himalayas, stands between the two countries.
We've had our car for nearly two weeks now.  It's been nice to have to get us around town whenever we want.  Traffic here is pretty crazy.  Lanes don't mean anything and there are always more lanes of cars than are painted on the asphalt.  People are pretty selfish drivers and don't really think of others on the road with them.  I'm staying calm and trying to be as safe as possible.  There have been some minor mechanical issues that, I guess, you'd come to expect with an older car.  Our school employs mechanics and they take care of all our cars for us.  We don't have to pay for labor, just parts.  It's a good deal.  We've used them a few times already.  We had a window that wouldn't roll back up.  In case it rained, we left it for the weekend at our school director's house because he has a covered parking area.  We got it fixed, but now the trunk/boot isn't unlocking as usual.  There are a few other issues that I'd like to have looked at like the idle and having the air conditioner repaired, not that I'll need for another few months, but so that we won't have to breathe so much bus exhaust when it warms up again.  Although the mechanics are very nice, I'd like to wean myself off their services.

Something that we've mentioned before that Brooke and I really enjoy is how social our school is.  Several nights a week we have parties and different teacher's houses, hikes, TV nights where we watch current US programs and have dinner together, shopping together, and our weekly themed potluck dinner.  So far the potluck themes have been Moroccan, Mexican, Indian, Korean, German, Italian, and Indonesian.  We're really fortunate to have such great colleagues and support.  It makes living so far from home a lot easier.

Everyday brings something new and that's what makes life exciting.

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Photos by Brooke,
map and flag sourced from the internet

Oh, Canada! Our Thanksgiving host's native land...

Today, we had an awesome Thanksgiving dinner.  Cathy, our good friend from Montréal, showed off her cooking chops tonight with some amazing carrot souffle, rosemary chicken and stuffing, cauliflower and cheese casserole, pumpkin pound cake, pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes and gravy... yeah, it was awesome.  Well done, Cathy!

Happy 10/10/10!  Happy Thanksgiving, Canada!  Yes, we're thankful four our new friends.  They're pretty awesome.

A car, no gas, the brothel and the mechanic

Yeah... this sounds like a good story!

In case you didn't know, we bought a car four weeks ago at the car bazaar -- the place to buy a bizarre car!  Basically it's a place where people bring their cars they want to sell and you walk around looking at them.  You can't test drive them so you'd better know what you're looking for or bring a mechanic.  We did the latter and brought our school's auto mechanic.  We spent the whole day there looking at cars with colleagues who also were in the market for an automobile and some who just wanted to see what the car bazaar was all about.

So, after four weeks of waiting to drive our car (waiting for the registration to be turned over to the school, and then to us) we finally got the keys on Friday!   It's a not-so-bizarre 1997 VW Golf, which is a car I've been wanting for several years.  I'm happy to have something that's reliable, easy to park, and big enough to tote friends around with us. The car now has yellow license plates, which signifies that we are non-Kazakhs.  It also has Japanese registration stickers on it, since it was imported from Japan to be sold here (the steering wheel is on the correct side for Kazakhstan, though). It's a purpley-grapey-plum color.

Anyway, we were very happy to get to drive it... even though it was raining -- the Almaty streets are exciting enough without having to add rain!   We noticed, however, that there was no gas in the tank.  The mechanics have been driving it to it's registration and inspection appointments, so we were surprised that they hadn't put at least a quarter of a tank in it.  Since it was after 5pm and the mechanics had gone home (there is a car shop on site for fixing teachers' cars and the school's buses), we decided to just drive the car to the closest gas station (about 4.5 kilometers away).  We headed straight there, no dilly-dally!

And yes, you guessed right (did you read the title of the blog? Activate your schema, people!  What do you already know?  What can you already predict?),  not even 3 kilometers from the school, at a red light on a very busy street, in the rain, the car lurched, and then died.  The light turned green, and a fury of angry drivers leaned on their horns.  Michael and I just looked at each other and tried not to panic.  I started pushing (while he steered), then Michael started pushing (while I steered).  Cars were zooming all around us -- and this is not a country that respects pedestrians, so we were freaking out.  We were on one of the busiest streets in our part of the city, in rush hour traffic, pushing a car up a hill onto a street we'd never been on before.  Don't panic!  You just have to go into Bear Grylls mode!

Suddenly, two awesome guys came out of nowhere and started pushing the car with Michael.  I steered us around the corner, out of the intersection, and into the parking lot of a hotel.  Michael thanked the guys sincerely, then got into the car and caught his breath.  He looked at his phone -- it was almost out of batteries.  As it turns out, I had forgotten my phone this morning (the first time I've done that in Almaty!).  We crossed our fingers that we'd have enough power to make a few calls, and called one of the school's logistical managers in charge of getting teachers out of emergency situations.

She sent us into the hotel to see if there were any taxi drivers who had a spare gallon of gas in their car.  While she spoke on the phone to the receptionist, Michael and I started to realize what the hotel really was.  Either people were renting rooms by the hour, or there was a convention for women in thigh-high boots and tube dresses (being escorted by guys with slicked hair and pleather jackets).  Our school helper told us that no one at the hotel could help us with gas...  She was sending the mechanic to us, and we needed to sit tight for an hour.  So, we did.  We sat in the car park, watching the action through the rain and our very steamy windows. 

Finally, about 65 minutes later, the school's head mechanic who helped us choose the car at the bizarre a month ago, showed up with a smile, an apology, and a gas can full of fuel.  He'd also been the one to register it and take care of everything that needed fixing, so I think he was a little embarrassed that he forgot to put a little gas in it.)  We joked for a while, then gave him the beer we'd purchased for the get-together we were missing (our friends were really understanding and were glad to hear we were rescued).

Soon enough, we were at the gas station getting a full tank of gas, then at home having hot showers after a cold and wet evening in the car.

So, I think we are record holders at the school:  trouble in under 3 kilometers!   Champions.

But, hey... we still love our car!

End of summer in Kazakhstan

I have to admit that Almaty has some really beautiful places.  The weather has been really nice, with lots of sunshine, flowers and pretty golden leaves falling from the trees.  Cathy and Brock (our adventure partners here in Kazakhstan) have been taking us on excursions every weekend.  Recently, we took photos around Almaty to record the change in seasons (that's the Golden Man statue, below), went up to Kok Tobe (Көктөбе in Kazakh means "Green Hill"), a large hill which over-looks the city.  There's a little menagerie with birds (bold peacocks!) and goats, a coaster-ride (hecka fun and scary!), and a tea shop where you sit on bean bags outside, looking out at the city.  It's how I imagine Yurtle the Turtle must have felt -- the king of all I can see!

We also went back up to Chimbulak, the mountain ski resort where we hiked on our first weekend here.  (That was an un-planned hike... 4 kilometers up a 12%-grade hill because the school didn't bring a strong enough bus to make the journey!  This time, we drove to the top of the hill, then took the ski lift to the resort.  It was so different than the last time we went up there -- all of the green summer colors have turned to browns, golds and oranges, and the air was fresh and clean.  We had a picnic at the top of the hill, looking down upon Kok Tobe and the city beyond that.  Again, the kings of all we can see!  There are so many beautiful vistas to behold.

We've had a very busy social life here!  We have a hard time shopping for groceries because we just don't know when we'll be eating it... we have so many invitations to go for dinner that we might not eat out of our kitchen more than three times a week.  Transitioning to a life overseas becomes so much easier when your friends make you feel so at home.

September Adventures: Car Bazaar and Iron Chef

We had a number of good adventures this month.   We went to the car bazaar on the 11th and bought a new VW Golf -- hooray!  We really like it and can't wait to drive it.  It might be about 3 weeks before we get the keys in our hands, though -- there are a lot of hoops to jump through and a lot of paperwork to submit.  Two of the school's mechanics came with us, as well as the school director (who likes a day in the sun with a bunch of cars -- this was his third trip there!), a fellow teacher acting as translator for us and the mechanics, and three other pairs of teachers looking for new cars.  It was a long, long day in the sunshine, but with good company and a successful catch of car booty, we were pretty cheerful about it.

We took some amazing hikes this month, too.  There are some beautiful places up in the mountains of Almaty, and so many trails heading into dense forests and crystal-clean glacier water gushing from the peaks.  There are a lot of teachers at our school who like a day on the trail, and are willing to go for the fun of it without having to race to the top (thankfully for me and my sea-level lungs).  We even got to stop at a delicious Georgian restaurant (the country, not the state!), and replenish valuable fluids with some local brews.  Nice.

One very cool thing we did this month was an Iron Chef challenge at our friend, J's, house.  J made up a whole bunch of rules about how teams would be formed, how much time could be used, and which ingredients were mandatory... she also allowed us each to bring our own "secret weapon", which was any item from our own pantries.  The mandatory challenge ingredients this time were puff pastry, carrots, zucchini and mozzarella.  I got paired up with another friend's husband, P, who had an awesome idea for a stir-fry with the carrots, zucchini and his secret ingredient (peanut butter!).  I brought in my secret ingredient from my pantry, Pumpkin Pie spice (cinnamon, nutmeg, clove, etc.) and made a tiropita-type cheese pastry with the Pumpkin Pie spice on top.  And we won!  So, so glorious!  We get to be judges next time.

How will the Iron Chef Brooke spend the next month?  Choosing the next challenge ingredient, of course!  I wonder what people would do with the horse-meat sausage I see around town... ?  :D

Quotes of the week

Quotes of the week (from an earlier Facebook posting):

"Mr. Michael, I want to be a writer when I get older. Could you please grade my essays harshly? I want good feedback."  Students were writing personal narratives (vignettes) in our writing class.

"Mr. Michael, is it okay if I write two poems instead of one?"  We were writing acrostic poems and I asked students to use vocabulary words from the Cultural Studies class (ancient history) that I also teach.  There are some great poems that I might share a bit later.

"Mr. Michael, can I answer the review questions at the end of the chapter even though they weren't assigned?"  Of course!  It's a different world. This, in fact, is more common than it might seem.  I've caught students not listening to me in class because they're answering chapter review questions which I rarely assign anyway.  I guess it could be worse.

"Mr. Michael, would it be alright if I used my iPhone in class so I can take a picture of the assignment so I don't have to take the book home."  Yeah, that would be just fine.  Good thinking!

Hoe, sickle, stick

I’m really enjoying teaching my 12-year-old students (7^th graders) here at our new school in Almaty.  In our system of international schools we use ages instead of grades because students are coming from so many different school systems around the world that use different grade ranking or numbering systems.  This alleviates a lot of misunderstandings among parents about their kids being placed in the correct classes.

The kids, generally, are very eager to learn and challenge themselves.  I love this because it was totally me when I was their age.  I think I’d drive my teachers nuts by giving them a lot of extra work to review.  Mrs. Wood’s world studies travel itinerary assignment for one country turned into an epic round-the-world journey annotated with current exchange rates for the countries I’d be in, visa requirements, and alternative flight and overland connections.  Spanish homework would be also done in French to make it more of a challenge.  I can identify with many of my students.

I teach two sections of three different classes, reading, writing, and cultural studies (history), plus a homeroom.  There are about 40 12-year-old students in total so I see each of them three times a day and I think we’ll really get to know each other.  In reading and writing we’re doing poetry units.  In order to get to know each other better, we’re writing personal narratives in the form of a vignette.  They have picked an event from their lives which they think has made them into who they are today and tell what they learned from that experience.  It has been interesting.

In cultural studies we’ve been learning about hunting-and-gathering societies and the agricultural revolution and the changes farming brought to societies around the world.  One of the technological advances that came about during this time period was the development of tools for farming, including sticks, sickles, and hoes.  “What’s a hoe?” one Russian student asked out loud, shattering the silence of a whole class reading.  Okay, in America, in just about any classroom I’ve worked in, this would summon hysterical laughter and possibly even initiate a volley of personal insult on each others’ mothers.  Here in Almaty, in my 12-year-old class, not a snicker.  Eyes were on me, “Yeah, what’s a hoe?”

"What's a hoe?"

“Ah, it’s a tool used in the garden that you can use to dig a trench to plant seeds.”  Not being an artist, I did my best to draw a hoe on the whiteboard.

“Oh!  I know that,” said a Hungarian student.  “My grandmother has three of them in her shed.”

A Kazakh student added, “We used a hoe this summer at our dacha to plant vegetables.”

Gotta love it!  The students were making text-to-self connections.  In their 12-year-old way, they all wanted to tell a story (lessons can easily get sidetracked by the number of stories these kids like to share with each other).  They were giving examples of the use of the tool.  And there wasn’t a single reference to “street walkers.”  (Brooke's students at her old school in Oakland could, from their classroom windows, see prostitutes working on International Boulevard.  The students even had nicknames for the 'regulars', and knew when any one of them was having a 'good' day!)

These kids are great.  I do miss my students in Oakland though and am happy that many of them send me emails keeping me updated on the goings-on at my school there.

We're enjoying how social everyone is here.  There's a gathering nearly every night at someone's house if you want to get out.  We've gone to game nights several nights this week.  On weekends, there are lots of outdoor events like hikes in the Tien Shan Mountains just a few minutes out of the city.  It's all very supportive and friendly and we're having a great time.

First week in school, and it's a whole new world

Michael and I just got through our first five days of long school meetings, and our first three days of teaching.  It's been such a change!   Don't get me wrong, I love my teenagers and my wonderful co-workers at my lovely Life Academy in Oakland (I have to give a special shout out to them because I really took for granted how together and organized they are there!) -- but there is something truly joyous about teaching a group of kids who are even more enthusiastic about learning, and just about as in love with reading as I am!   I'm so used to introducing an 'assignment' and bracing for impact, waiting for the "awe, maaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnn!" which inevitably flows from the mouths of teenagers being asked to write down, say, the date on their paper.

Today, I said that we were going to do some math and the kids ... cheered!   We moved on to Writing, and I was even more shocked by their eagerness to expand their knowledge.  "Can I write five sentences instead of two?"   Then Reading:  "Can you help me choose some more challenging books? I like to challenge myself!"  "Reading!?  Yay!  I love books!  I! Love! Books!"  And so began the chant, raising in volume as my twelve little 7-year-olds sat in a circle on my "Reading Zone" rug.   I pulled out two books, Blueberries for Sal and Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus!, to applause and excitement.  "I love those books!"  "I have that one at home!"  "She follows a bear!"  "Maybe we should let him drive the bus this time?"  "Noooo!"  Giggles, and then, "Shhhhh!  She's going to read!"....  Ah yes, a whole new world for me.

On the other side of the school, Michael opened a poetry unit today.  He announced this first unit somewhat hesitantly, ready to convince and cajole his 12-year-old students into reading and writing poems -- only to be met with enthusiastic readiness:  "Will we get to read Edgar Allen Poe?!", "Can I write a poem and set it to music?!", "Will we get to share what we read?!", and the winner:  "Poetry is so cool!"

I continue to be shocked by the seeming randomness of the kids' love for learning.  I'll be cleaning up something in the room, during a transition from one activity to the next, when K, a Kazakh boy, runs up so close to me that I'm sure he can smell the laundry detergent in my sleeve.  "Will we have some math today?  I love math!"  Me (shocked):  "Uh, yeah.  We'll do math today."  K: "Yaaaaaaayyyy!  I hope we do some super challenge math!" (my phrase for math I think should be 'hard' for them, but usually isn't) and he runs back to his table to reassure his friends that math is indeed on the agenda.

I'm also shocked at the depth and breadth of their knowledge.  These seven-year-olds have had the benefit of true and literal investment in their education.  Tuition to this school is half my annual salary.   Most of the kids have their tuition paid for by their parents' company (as part of their compensation package), but if the kid is from Kazakhstan, that means that their parent is most likely paying from their own pocket.   They get to read a LOT at school and at home, have tutors and intensive instruction in several languages, and have visited almost as many places in the world as we have -- and that's saying something!  I put up my travel photos today and every one of the kids identified at least two of the locations (without looking at my captions), exclaiming something like, "Oooh!  Paris!  I loved Paris!"  To which someone else says, "Me too!  Did you go to the Eiffel Tower?"  ... response:  "Of course!"   Third kid:  "I liked the Taj Mahal better."  Fourth kid:  "The pyramids are cool, too!"  Collective agreement.  They turn to me:  "Have you been to the Eiffel Tower, Miss Friz-zizzle?"  (They haven't learned to say my name quite yet, but we'll get there!)  Me (stunned again):  "Yes.  These are my pictures."  Collective awe. "Coooooool."  Fifth kid:  "What's your favorite airline?  I like Turkish Airline, Boeing 737-800!"   First kid:  "Yeah, Turkish Airline has video games!"  Other kids shout out names of airlines, and describe seats and fun little perks that I associate with First Class.  Ah yes, this is a different place indeed.

On the flip side, we're also having to "make do" a bit here.  Our annual shipment of workbooks and supplies didn't arrive from the USA.  Technology isn't working properly because of some issues with upgrades, compatibility and lack of specific know-how.  Electives teachers "aren't ready yet", which means that my kids are with me most of the day instead of going out for all of their extra classes.  So, even though I'm in a much more 'privileged' school, my old-style public-school background of pulling solutions out of thin air has helped me a lot here!  Skills are priceless, my friends!  I learned mine in public schools. : )

What's your favorite airline?