Raise Your Hand/Voice

Wednesday and Thursday, I taught my first two groups of twenty-five medical students. These students are on par with freshmen in college in the states, but on a medical school track. The entire class of 200 is broken up into sections so no one seemed to know where to go for these first few days. Throughout the first hour of my class, students entered the room, assuming they were registered for my class. If they weren't, I had to ask them to leave, which was not easy, not only because I had to tell them in French.
The classroom itself is made up of block construction with open windows around the top of three walls. Students mill around all sides of this room and make plenty of extraneous noise. In order to be heard, I need to raise my voice. I should have used that as an example of a present tense verb, "raise my voice" which was part of my first lesson for what are mostly beginner English students. A few of them know quite a lot of English. Figuring out how difficult to make the lesson is challenging. I have 15 weeks, one day each week, to teach these kids as much English as I can. The books have not arrived yet. Perhaps I'm optimistic in thinking they will get here in time to use them? So I use a black chalk board that has a few cracks running through it. The erasure is well used, leaving a streak of white behind it. Four ceiling fans hum above us, contributing to the noise pollution, but do make a difference in ventilation. The art of teaching is a learning process!

Last night, the Public Affairs Officer (PAO) invited me and 21 others over to celebrate Thanksgiving in grand style. After watching American football (the armed forces network) on a flat screen TV, sipping one of the best margaritas I've ever had and munching potato pancakes, she presented four perfectly roasted turkeys, mashed potatoes, succotash, dressing, gravy, a fabulous pear/candied walnut salad, and even Brussel sprouts (Belgian Congo, remember?). The best part, as is back home, was the dessert selection: Pumpkin and apple pies, mincemeat tarts with plenty of whipped cream. Everything was homemade with a little help from Willy, the chef, and his crew. As wonderful as it was, I still couldn't help having a little lump in my throat thinking about all my friends and family that I'm missing. I'm terribly thankful for you all.