On the Other Side

I've been meaning to write a short post about the most emotional school day I've had so far. I walked into school; immediately I could tell something was not right- the halls just sounded different. I walked with the teacher towards my classroom and saw one of my students, the 'tough guy', sobbing. The teacher talked with him and I stepped away to give them some privacy. When he was done talking to the student he told me why the kid was crying. Apparently Social Services was taking the child from his home and sending him to a boarding school / foster school type place outside of the city. They had just told him during recess. It was just such a shock to see the trouble maker student crying. We proceeded to the classroom and entered. I looked around me and I saw half of the classroom crying. I didn't know what to do or think. The teacher must have noticed how confused and concerned I was and told me why they were all crying. This summer one of their classmates died suddenly from a heart attack. Today there was an assembly remembering her life and dedicating a school initiative in her honor. The assembly had just finished and these students, her classmates, were expected to go right back to their studies. Normally this is one of the classes that I teach by myself while the teacher sits at the back of the classroom, but before I even could think I asked him to stay up in front with me today. He conducted the class, for which I am still very grateful. He told the students that although what has happened is very sad and painful, it's a part of life and the living need to go on living. Then proceeded with the exercises. I was shocked; it seemed so heartless to me but I reminded myself that perhaps this is how the Spanish deal with death. He tried to go through the superlative and comparative adjective worksheet and the students answered the questions but throughout it all there were tears and loud sobs. I almost wanted to cry; how horrible to hear 12-14 year olds crying so uncontrollably over a friend that lost their life too soon. Finally after 20 minutes of this the teacher took the crying kids out of the classroom to talk to him. I was to stay with the non-crying kids and just talk to them. They explained to me again why there was so much crying and then told me something I hadn't known. Apparently the two girls that were sobbing uncontrollably were the girl's two best friends. My lord my heart sank, how do you talk to kids about the death of a best friend. I have been on the other side- a student dealing with the death of a classmate, but I never realized how hard it was to be on the teachers side as well. However, in what was probably the quickest change of atmosphere I've ever experienced, one of the students started playing music on his phone and two girls went up to the front of the classroom and started dirty dancing with each other. Then I saw a kid whip out his phone and start video taping the whole incident. I was quite certain I was going to get fired for this- just wait till the video appears on YouTube. Lord. Finally the bell rang and I was left speechless trying to make sense of all that had just happened in that hour.

The next day I saw that boy that was being taken away from his family. I handed him a penny and told him that in the US we keep these as good luck charms and that I hope this will bring him luck with his upcoming changes. He stared at me and his eyes got glassy. I told him that I would miss him. Later that day one of the guidance counselors came looking for me, they wanted to see who gave the boy the penny that made him so happy.

Morocco

I've been meaning to write about my experience in Morocco, but to tell you the truth I'm not sure how to put it into words. What I've been saying is this: While Spain and the US have differing cultures, when you get right down to it, they are pretty similar. Morocco however was unlike anything I had ever seen before- unlike anything I had ever experienced. The second I stepped off the

plane

I was immersed in Muslim/ Arabic culture. I was surrounded by headscarves and Jilbabs, Burqas, Women in Veils, Men in Cloaks... the list could go on and on.

I was on sensory overload, rendered speechless and forced to take everything in around me. I was incredibly aware, perhaps hyper aware, but unlike the others I was traveling with I felt like I had prepared myself mentally before stepping into the 9000+ streets of the Fez Medina.

The Medina was mystic- we were woken up every morning at 5am by the Call to Prayer.

There isn't much I can say about my experience, only that for the first time in my life my culture completely differed from that around me. And instead of being completely overwhelmed and put off by this I was able to take it all in and come out with a better understanding of how diverse the world is.