If I hadn't laughed I would have cried...

3:30 pm, City Center Mall, Doha, Qatar

I burst out laughing as I walked down the second floor of the mall outside a swanky jewelry shop. Laughing seemingly at nothing, the other teachers turned around, visibly astonished at my slight break into insanity. So let's rewind.

1:40 pm, International School, Doha

In the midst of trying to teach a lesson over the two boys who had been screaming all day, two parents walk up to the door to peek in at their children. Hint to parents and future parents: do not 'check up' on your three year old when you abandon them at school from 7 am until 2 pm. During the first two weeks. Just don't. Here is what happens as a result: your previously calmly engaged child suddenly turns absolutely raving at the sight of you and your subsequent disappearance, beginning to truly believe you have abandoned them to my care forever, much to their (and my) chagrin. Then, at least two other children remember how much they miss Mama and Baba and will begin to wail as well. Leaving me to teach another forty minutes over screaming three year olds. Picture five children screaming and wailing, two stamping their feet all around their chairs, one about to make himself sick from his tears, and another tearing about the place in his attempt to escape (actually nearly succeeding once). Now look up to the front of the classroom and see Maria sobbing so hard she has actually given herself a bloody nose. Not just a light trickle. We're talking full blown river streaming down her face - into her mouth, all over her (white) shirt, the table, and the floor. At this point I abandon all pretenses of teaching and dash to Maria with a box of tissues, trying to keep her from swallowing the blood and thus vomiting (which if you know me, you know I will avoid at all costs). Thinking I'm finished? False. There is more. As this is going on, a little boy shits all over the floor of the bathroom at the back of my room.

So to recap, let's do a multiple choice, since I am, after all, a teacher, right?
Today in KG1B:
A. A child cried herself into a nosebleed.
B. A child crapped all over himself and the bathroom.
C. Neither.
D. Both.

Sadly I don't think I need to repeat the answer. Did I mention this is occurring minutes before I need to put three children to the bus and greet parents at the door?


Back to the mall. If I hadn't laughed, I think I actually would have cried. I suppose I should see that as a testament to my state of mind that I chose the former. Looking for the positive.

Miss Batty

I've officially survived my first week as a teacher...

It wasn't easy. There were good moments and bad, nice ones and ugly ones, and loud ones and...louder ones. Five days, many tantrums, four more vomits from Atilla (his count was six times in two days), a lot of pee, and so much snot on my pants, I am still alive and officially finished with my first week in the classroom. And I knew all of their names by 9 am on Sunday because I was yelling them so frequently.

Of the 28, most are fairly settled. One has missed the entire first week, one showed up yesterday and threw the tantrum to end all tantrums when her father walked away. As in when I picked her up to put her in her seat, both of her legs started flailing around on the floor, stomping away. Which of course started all of the other ones crying. However, I have two little boys who have cried, literally non-stop, since Sunday morning at 7 am. For five days. Not just crying. Screaming. But there have been fun moments too. Probably mostly fun for them because they involve me running around like an absolute absurdity. I feel like I'm no longer fully human. Take Tuesday, the worst morning by far for screaming. I'm standing in the middle of the room, trying everything I can think of to make them stop screaming because I'm ready to run out of the classroom myself. Finally I hit on the Hokey Pokey, but most of them are still screaming and as I'm saying "and you turn yourself about," I turn around and make eye contact with the aforementioned highly attractive Mr. Abdulkadir watching from the hallway, smiling away, as I simultaneously make a fool of myself and somehow induce them to scream louder.

There is also a boy who is an absolute bull. He must weigh 55 pounds and will not remain in his seat for longer than 45 seconds. And has not a word of English. So I must pick him up, carry him to his seat, and put him down. I take three steps and he is out like a shot again. Today I was teaching "Phonics" (A-A- APPLE! A-A-APRICOT!) and I actually had to stand in front of him so that when he stood up, I could put him back in his seat. So much for needing a gym membership. One day he WILL knock me over as he tears around the classroom "looking for tissues," as is his new ploy to make me think he has a legitimate reason for running about the place.

I was really surprised at how naturally some things came to me this week...but then I was observed by my department supervisor and of course it was at a moment of utter chaos. I had two children SCREAMING, the bull tearing about, and we were trying to color in a worksheet that was 'color the apple red' with 9 red colored pencils. Nine. For 28 three year olds. We are so undersupplied in KG it's ridiculous. I actually had only 5 and I had to borrow from the class next door. So of course there was chaos because I could only have two tables coloring at a time. Shocking. So when I finally got that under control, I decided to redeem myself with their favorite game - find the red. (One red circle is basically our math lesson for September.) And all week they loved to yell "RED!!!! Teacher! Teacher! It is RED!!!!!!" whenever I ask, "Is this red?!" Yet this time, when I hold up a red paddle and say "Is this red?" don't the little demons yell out "NO!!!" It is like they knew.

I had a great moment today though...a child called me Miss Bat. All week it has been variants of "Teacher!" or "Miss!" or tugging at my skirt or even "Hey!" from one boy. (Which I put a stop to very quickly.) But all of a sudden I hear a tiny voice going "Miss Bat" this afternoon. I looked down and the smallest little thing looking up at me, smiling. I look down and said, "Did you say Miss Bat?" He nods. "Who is Miss Bat?" And he smiles, points at me and goes "You!"

I knew there would be difficulty with my name and knew Miss Bat (or Miss Batty) would be the result since B is the standard pronunciation for all words beginning with P (e.g. the "Tenants only- No Barking" sign outside my building). What I didn't know was how much I would like it.

Exhausted, but looking forward to fully fulfilling the role of Miss Batty and all that it implies.

First day of school!

Ho.Ly. God. Talk about trial by fire...today was something else entirely. Starting off the day sitting in Doha traffic and arriving at school at 6:58 for my 7 am start time was along the lines of a back up at the Salem Witch trials. I walked into my classroom and it was filled with children and parents, some ok, some already crying. An administrator had to come into my classroom and kick out parents who were refusing to leave. So Mr. Abdulkadir was basically my hero today. It was horrible watching all the kids screaming because their parents were leaving, but by 830 almost everyone was quiet except two or three kids sobbing away. Surprise - lulling me into a false sense of safety. Little tricksters. I was blowing bubbles, singing, dancing, charading, etc. Never did I ever think I would mime "I'm a Little Teapot" in front of 25 children who barely understand English. But I did. Along with "Old MacDonald," "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star," and even more frighteningly "Frere Jacques." Where that popped into my head from I have no idea. I walked around the room going "chhchhchhchhhchhhchh" to form a line. Surprisingly they all followed. New favorite activity? Seems to be.

Today by the numbers:
7 children peed their pants
9 children fell asleep at various times
2 children hit me
2 children tried to beat down the door
1 child sustained tears from 9:30 until he left at 2:10
1 child laid on the floor the entire day
1 child vomited. Twice.

The vomiter...Atilla. Karmic punishment? Perhaps.

From 1:30 on there were 40 minutes of uninterrupted screaming. Actual screaming. Not tears, not whimpers, not crying. Screaming. "Mama! Baba!" I had to stand in front of the door so that Atilla and his right hand man could not open the door and escape (as was tried). At one point I looked up and 23 of the 25 children in the class were screaming. I almost laughed. Then I almost cried. I tried singing at this point...epic fail. I think it made some of them scream louder.

Then came the disaster of dismissal. I'll set the scene: 23 children are still screeching "Mama! Baba!" in decibels heard only by the desert bats and about 50 parents, drivers, and nannies are lining up outside listening to my out of control horde. So at 2:10 I take my chair (which I realize I will never sit in except these five minutes of insanity per day) and put it in front of the door. I open the door and have to put my chair in front of the door with my legs up against the bookshelves across from me so the children can not just escape into the crowd of parents in the hall. I still lost two underneath the seat. They will not best me tomorrow. Personal goal. After I walked back from dropping the last five (still screaming) children to the late room, I actually felt physically ill. Too bad I won't be able to buy a bottle of wine until November.

Ah well, tomorrow is another day.

Trial by fire...

This past week has been a bit of a whirlwind. I made quite the international meal this week. I had cooked a pasta casserole with Pakistani beef, cheese from Saudi Arabia, peppers from India, and carrots from Australia. Truly international. It took some time to get over the idea of using beef from Pakistan. I don't know why...it took me about three weeks to buy meat here. Completely a mental thing.

Also, Thursday was my first day as a teacher! I had a second grade art class with 31 students. It was basically an hour of controlled chaos. Semi-controlled chaos. I decided to do a 'time capsule' project (close shave to calling it a 'time-turner' - Harry Potter is overinfluencing my life) with them. I had them trace their hands, color them, cut them out, and write their age, favorite color, and favorite game on the back. I had some children do it quite lovely, others as I would have expected from 6 year olds, and others who completely destroyed theirs (mostly chopped off the fingers). One little boy started crying because he ruined his so I gave him a second sheet and told him to make a new one...and he mangled that too. Epic fail. I didn't know what to do. I also had to make a rule: Only one pair of scissors per table at a time. There was a mini scissor war between two boys and I had to whip out my serious teacher voice. "I NEVER want to see that again or we will never do another fun project in this class." Everyone listened so I think they were scared.

Snippets of their comments:
Miss, I like your dress.
Miss, you are very kind.
Miss, I like Tae Kwan Do.
Miss, I have a yellow belt in Karate.
Miss, my birthday is 22 September. I will be six.

I have also learned that stickers are absolute MAGIC in the classroom. They were starting to run riot at the end of the lesson so I flicked the lights and said, "If everyone is cleaned up, sitting in their seats, and very quiet until the Arabic teacher comes I will give you each a sticker."
There was instant and lasting silence. Why? Not sure. Will I be repeating that? Yes.

Tomorrow the babies arrive.

Some things I never dreamed I would do (and others I hoped I wouldn't)

1. Cleaning up the cockroach cemetery under my kitchen counters. And my washer. And my oven.
2. Swimming in the Persian/Arabian Gulf.
3. Being the only woman on a street full of 2000 plus men looking for a restaurant that seemingly disappeared.
4. Whilst looking more disheveled than I ever have in my life, accidentally wandering into a posh Indian restaurant instead after having traipsed across 20 minutes of sandy road. The kind of posh where the waiters put your napkin on your lap for you.
5. Accidentally drinking the bowl of hot water and lemon the waiter brought after our meal. Only to have him stop us and tell us that was to wash our hands in.
6. Witnessing a chimney fire from my rooftop.

It's always an adventure.

Talk about a new identity...

Not only am I Miss DeFelice from here on out, I am also now a recruit for Gaelic Football. My housemate and new coworkers are all Irish and have somewhat adopted me. Little do they know my track record with organized sports. It's a combination of American football and soccer...HA. Apparently I should be 'class' at it based on the skills I have demonstrated in 'training' last week. I can already feel most of their Irishisms working their way into my English - mainly adjectives like 'class' and 'grand' but also saying things like 'shop' and 'bin' instead of store and trash can.

I have also received a preliminary class list: 19 boys, 8 girls, and one mysteriously gendered child named Atilla. Let's hope that one fails to live up to its namesake. I love my room- mostly purple and I'm going with yellow and orange decorative posters to make my room the quirky hall of sunshine on the floor. I have five small tables with six baby seats each. I can already tell what game we'll be playing this year, considering sheer numbers: How many three year old boys can sit at one table before Miss DeFelice starts crying in class? I have a feeling it will be every day (every hour?) for the first month or so.

New Identities

I wonder how long it will take to get used to being Miss DeFelice. Odds are a long time. Today was my first day off since training started- and I did grown up things like go to the grocery store. Last week was mostly administrative details but this week is a lot of specialized training to our departments and for me that means decorating my classroom! I'm now Miss DeFelice in KG1B, thank you very much. Our supervisor told us we could choose whether we wanted to use first names or last names, but I thought it be easier than Patricia since it's at least somewhat phonetic and includes sounds in their repertoire, unlike Patricia. Since more than half of them will have never heard any English at all, why confuse them with a letter (P) that doesn't even exist in their mind? So Miss DeFelice I am.

When I walked into my classroom I felt like I was surveying a dollhouse. Their chairs are so small the backs barely come up to my knees. Let's face it - I'm a clumsy being and those chairs are right at foot level. I keep finding myself daydreaming into classroom displays, like frogs outside the door on my welcome board. With corny, teachery things like "Let's Jump into KG1!". And ways to incorporate the letter "B"into the classroom, since we're 1B, like having each table have an animal, like the bears, birds, bugs, etc. I'm frightening myself with my enthusiasm for this but let's hope the influx of creativity stays switched on, considering I'm teaching two separate art classes every week. I'll add some pictures tomorrow for the before and after effects.