Big Bang: Plan to Plan
It's these moments of sheer exhaustion from just being up, of thinking this is the rest of my life for the next 17 months, of actually teaching students and meeting them and knowing their stories, of sitting in the office meticulously combing through text books trying to find activities and exercises that are teachable and won't make me fall asleep while teaching it. It's these moments where its realer than the dirt beneath my toes as I walk through dusty alleyways. Where I finally feel that I am solidly here, with a purpose.
It's also these moments where I'm still functioning on four hours of sleep and a couple cups of coffee.
The task at hand is so overwhelming and demanding where I just want to crawl back to Portland and slide back into being a dishwasher. Yearning for the simplicity of hauling oversized bus bins into the confines of a greasy dishpit- spray, rinse, load, wash, repeat. I never lost sleep because I was too bogged down with planning on how I would wash dishes the next day.
Don't worry. It's just the fatigue talking. I don't really want to trade Chittagong for steel wool scrubbies.
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The school held it's Welcoming Ceremony this past Saturday and all of the teachers donned saris and looked our south Asian best. My personal goal was to look like a Malaysian princess and I felt I succeeded in my plum blue, violet and gold accented sari. The event ended by early afternoon and the lot of us, all dressed up with nowhere to go, decided a trip to Baskin-Robbins was in order. When our gang showed up to the Sugar Buns plaza, where B-R is on the third floor, we created a stir comparable to the a gaggle of young women dressed in gaudy prom dresses hanging out Home Depot.
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I really like that our students call us ma'am.
It's also these moments where I'm still functioning on four hours of sleep and a couple cups of coffee.
The task at hand is so overwhelming and demanding where I just want to crawl back to Portland and slide back into being a dishwasher. Yearning for the simplicity of hauling oversized bus bins into the confines of a greasy dishpit- spray, rinse, load, wash, repeat. I never lost sleep because I was too bogged down with planning on how I would wash dishes the next day.
Don't worry. It's just the fatigue talking. I don't really want to trade Chittagong for steel wool scrubbies.
The school held it's Welcoming Ceremony this past Saturday and all of the teachers donned saris and looked our south Asian best. My personal goal was to look like a Malaysian princess and I felt I succeeded in my plum blue, violet and gold accented sari. The event ended by early afternoon and the lot of us, all dressed up with nowhere to go, decided a trip to Baskin-Robbins was in order. When our gang showed up to the Sugar Buns plaza, where B-R is on the third floor, we created a stir comparable to the a gaggle of young women dressed in gaudy prom dresses hanging out Home Depot.
I really like that our students call us ma'am.