Drama Fit for a Telenovela

This week has been a roller coaster of events and emotions, and I’m only a secondary character in the whole story; I can’t imagine how John must be feeling.

For any of you that I have talked to outside of my blog, you know that this past week John has been acting…to put it nicely, very standoffish. Not to mention the plate saga. I won’t go into details, but let’s just say Abby and I were pretty annoyed and frustrated with his attitude….aka venting to each other every hour or so.

Before I continue, let me introduce Mr. Bob. An American turned Honduran, he moved her 15 years ago, site unseen, with his wife and family. He’s in his late 40’s, early 50’s and is a missionary worker down here. Apparently things in the missionary world are a little slow so he took up a post at HEM school and is now in his second year. We collectively love Mr. Bob and I have decided that he is our Papa Bear.

I was talking to Papa Bear on Wednesday afternoon and somewhere in conversation he said something about “Oh, well John won’t be here then, huh?” talking about taking this mountain hike in March. Come again? “Oh, he didn’t tell you…?” Oh snap- tell me what?? Come to find out, John got a call a few days ago saying that his mom has 6 months to live. Oh. My. God. That sure as hell puts washing dishes into perspective. We knew his mom was sick, but I had no clue that this had happened. Bob said that he had already told the administration and that he was going to be leaving in December.

Emotion 1: I felt so horrible for him. I can’t even imagine, a. your mom dying, b. only have 6 months left, and c. being miles away from home throughout the whole thing. Honestly, I don’t know why he wanted to stay until December. I’d be on the first plane home.

Emotion 2: I ranted and raved about these stupid dishes and his rude attitude this past week to numerous friends and family. Now who feels like the jerk? I mean, there is no way I could have known, but still. I’m sure us being in his face about cleaning up was the last thing he needed or who knows if he was even processing any of it. His mind was understandably elsewhere.

Emotion 3: Curiosity…are we going to get a new teacher? Will it just be Abby and me in this big house? What about his classes? Maybe I won’t have to teach 4th grade second semester and will take on 11th….?!?!? Ha.

I don’t know if Mr. Bob said anything to John about telling us, but that afternoon he mentioned it to Abby and apologized for “acting weird” lately. Of course she told me and then I told him how sorry I was, etc, etc. What a blow, man. Though I think he was sort of mentally preparing for this a bit, not that it makes it any better.

Today, as I was finishing up my 5th grade spelling class, continuing a spelling bee that had gone over, past the bell, because the kids begged me to finish it as opposed to letting them go home. Um, hello?! Remember when I said they were the love of my life? I was not lying. Miss Julie, the administrator in charge of the North American teachers was standing outside and approached me as I left. She insisted that we sit down and talk for a moment. I was scared she was going to reprimand me for keeping the kids after for 5 minutes. And as we were taking our seats every class was racing through my head…what could I be in trouble for? She was so serious looking. Then as she spoke, it began to dawn on me what she was going to say.

She spoke about John’s situation and told me that as of 20 minutes ago, he was now going to leave HEM school ahorita, not in December as originally planned. In Julie’s words he was not doing it for them or for him, but “for the students.” Come to find out from John, they basically forced him to leave. It has been said before and I will say it again, the communication skills of Hondurans, or perhaps just the HEM School administration is not too great. You don’t have to be an organizational studies major to recognize this fact….though it does help. J Miss Julie continued to say “Now, we have asked Claudia, and now we are going to ask you, to leave behind your younger grades and move to teach the secondary grades.”

You know in the movies when people are so excited that something has happened, but they have to act calm, collected, and at the same time seem a bit broken up about it all? This was one of those situations. Let’s recall the title I gave my fourth graders last blog post. “Bane of my existence” ring a bell anyone? I agreed to give up my fourth and sixth grade classes (aw, que triste) and move to the 11th graders. Inside I was thinking YES!!!!!!!!!!!!! Outside I said, “Yes, I will. Whatever is best for the students.” I did ask her however that if she could keep me in 5th grade Spelling I would be ever so grateful. She said she would try. I would almost rather stay with my 3 most difficult classes of 4th and 6th graders if that meant I got to stay with the 5th graders for one class. Honestly, they make me so happy. I will go into more detail later, though hopefully not as a final tribute when I find out I don’t get to teach them anymore.

So while I get this great news, John basically just got laid off, his mom is dying, and he’s leaving Honduras much sooner than expected. The taxi ride home we were all just animated with all kinds of emotions. John said that he was relieved yet at the same time felt like he had just gotten a slap in the face. For me, I was trying to figure out what had just happened. Something so exciting but because of something so horrible. I really don’t know how to feel, just a total mix of emotions right now.

Side note: The administration isn’t even letting him say goodbye. I asked Miss Julie if he had told his students and she said no because they had just now broke the news to him. To that I said, “Oh, so he’s going to come on Monday for a last day and say goodbye?” “No, no, I don’t think so.” Not like, oh I don’t know if he wants to do that, it was more matter of fact. So weird. John said they made it pretty clear that today was his last day. Period. Ah! WTF? They don't really get the idea of a teacher actually having compassion and a liking of their students. It's the culture I suppose, but I still don't totally get it. He said that he is going to write all of the 11th graders an individual note to say goodbye, which will be nice.

After we got home, John called good ol Spirit Air and was able to change his December flight to a week from tomorrow for only $75. So that’s that. He’s leaving, we’re staying. I almost feel like I am taking some easy way out, even though I don’t have a choice in the matter. Yeah, 4th grade was tough and pretty much all I did was vent about them. And if someone told me I could get out of teaching those classes, I’d have said sign me up! But, at the same time, it was a challenge and I was looking forward to feeling that much more accomplished after a year. It will definitely save me a lot of grief but I still feel weird about this “easy break” I’m getting. I’m sure the 11th graders won’t be all marshmallows and gumdrops but I can guarantee that they will be a hell of a lot more fun than the 4th graders.

The 11th grade boys though, they are going to be a hoot and a half.

Yesterday one of the 11th grade boys was talking to Claudia while I was close by talking to another student. She later told me that he asked her for my phone number.

“Why?”
“Just so I can call her up, ya know, see how she’s doing.”
“Haha…No!”

You see, I am used to the 10th grade boys who are lesser in number and while they are loveable they are definitely not as “charming” shall we say. As of yet, I have hardly had any interaction with the 11th graders but I just know being their teacher will be amusing to say the least…especially the boys. Do any of you Justin folk remember the history teacher, Miss. Wright? She was probably the youngest teacher in my high school and all of the boys flirted shamelessly with her. Nothing crossing any lines of student/teacher relationship or anything, but you know how high school boys can be. Case in point: One day I was walking into the 10th grade classroom but there were several students blocking the entrance. One of the 11th grade boys saw this and immediately told everyone in Spanish to get out of my way, physically shooed everyone away, and presented the entrance to me like Mr. Jeeves. I don’t even know this kid’s name. I just gave a “Why Thank you!” and walked on in. Needless to say, teaching them will be extremely comical and entertaining.

Geesh…what crazy week. With the multiple nights of 5 or less hours of sleep and with more drama than a Latino telenovela, I am, in a word, pooped. TGIF was most definitely invented for teachers.

Abrazos y besos,
Smills

P.S. Little shout to Momma on her birthday!!! Love you Mom!