Jeudi 07.12.06 Skippin’ and a-jumpin’
There’s a possibility that my first two classes will have run up the mountain this morning on one of those P’Tit Tours but contrary to the belief that bad weather would pull the plug on it it’s actually is far too hot to have children running about the countryside. So it’s back to the blackboard instead of the blackboard jungle of Balata. It’s giving highs of 38ºC: it’s going to be a killer in the classroom anyway since the power is still off due to the EDF strike. Claude’s CM2 C class is first up, followed by Dominique’s CM2 B, and then Alwin’s CE2 C and Catherine’s CE2 B. After a round of Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes we recap on the different ways of presenting ourselves:
Hello!
My name is Cyril.
I’m 10 years old.
I come from Martinique.
We also go over the respective questions we’ve learned:
What is your name?
How old are you?
Where do you come from?
We have a quick-fire round as I ask the students these questions. Each one then presents themselves in front of the class using the above phrases.
Next we move on to nationality and I feel like a parrot repeating: I am Martiniquan. It’s great that they’re eager to learn but they sometimes don’t listen properly and I’ve to correct a multitude of variations. I’m nearly at pains to explain the difference between the word for the country, Martinique, and that for the nationality, Martiniquan - but it eventually sinks in. I get them to point at me and say: You are Irish, and then pat their hearts saying: I am Martiniquan. What seems to complicate things is the fact that some kids like to point out that others are neither from Martinique nor Martiniquan. Metropole. Blanche.
We then go through other countries and their relevant nationalites; Ireland/Irish. America/American. Dominica/Dominican. France/French. Jamaica/Jamaican. Britain/British. Spain/Spanish. We use the tickets I’ve adapted with the name of a country written on one side and the nationality on the other. I’ve tried to simplify things by giving them a quick Geography class. We stick signposts on the map to indicate the countries we’re using for this exercise.
For the second half of the class we work with family members and jobs. I have a little test hidden behind the map. I’ve stuck up various family members and if they know who it is they have to come up and touch the person. I let the older ones write the word: father, mother, brother, sister in the boxes underneath. I trick them by calling out uncle, aunt, grandfather and grandmother – they are not present, and clearly some students are not clued-in as they proceed up to the board to the muffled giggles of their school pals. I then produce our nurse, policeman, dancer and farmer friends and do a similar exercise. To combine the two I then create sentences using the two sets of vocabulary:
My mother is a nurse.
My father is a policeman.
My sister is a dancer.
My brother is a farmer.
There’s the odd pupil who asks if these are true for my family. My mother is a nurse but the others don’t register. We repeat the sentences and they take them down. I also explain when to use a and an and illustrate its use with two more sentences:
My brother is an actor.
My sister is an actress.
It may seem like a lot to take in but I tell them that they’ll have it easy over Christmas! Both Dominique and Regine’s class will be making posters for their foreign correspondents so we go through a few sentences to bulk out both their brains and their copybooks:
I am a student.
Ruth is a teacher.
Ms. Bois is our teacher.
There are 20 students in our class.
I omit this section for the younger pupils as it’s not relevant at the moment and there are more of them so it takes longer to complete the other exercises – especially the map work. The younger children are so restless. Alwin has to give out to a tittering trio and I move one of them to a desk at the back as he’s disrupting the others. Madame Thaly’s class are in a similar mood. She seems a bit strung-out. I persevere with the lesson but for the last ten minutes she suggests that they take a nap. Arms out. Fold your arms. Put your head down and sleep. Silence. Well, for a second until Odile, the secretary comes in and they all shuffle around, shift their chairs and stand up to greet her. We’re back to square one. Sit down – in silence. In the momentary commotion Jean-François, the class clown, nicks someone’s pencil-case and war breaks out. Madame Thaly goes a bit berserk. They calm down for a moment but Jean-François is up to his antics again. He now has a make-shift pea-shooter. I’m just about to tell him off when a saliva loaded paper bullet comes my way. His face drains as he realises he has shot himself in the foot with his misdirected shot. Madame Thaly is up in an instant. Jean-François gets away with a lot but not today. She hauls him up by the t-shirt and off with them both to Madame la Directrice. What drama! Spitting students and fire-spitting teachers – I’m glad I got all those jabs before I came.
Town is just as chaotic as the classroom. The heat is making blood boil everywhere. There’s a bloodbank in town today and all. The mosquitoes have already taken my quota for the year – not that I’d go near needles anyway, especially not here! Those iceboxes that are thrown out the back door of the mobile unit don’t look too pristine.
Nicola, Gethin and I meet at La Crosière for lunch. Gethin isn’t hungry but Nic and I have the lunch special. It’s nothing special – fatty pork. Gethin is in the big smoke to buy his weekend ferry tickets to Saint Lucia but when he gets to the terminal he finds that the boat is totally booked up. Fran, Bex and Karla will be having a cosy pre-Christmas retreat. Gethin’s going home to Wales for Christmas anyway so he has that to look forward to. Gethin and Nicola traipse around the markets in search of souvenirs while I queue in the Post Office for an age just to get two stamps. I cross my fingers and post my sackful of Christmas cards. I try my luck at changing the useless, unused call card Nicola bought me. It cost €13 and the one Nicola used only lasted for 20 minutes so I reckon mine will go just as quick. They’re tough nuts here and I’ve neither the energy nor the need to stir up the cashier’s blood or raise my own blood pressure so instead I ring the Rectorat to organise my rendezvous with Madame l’Inspectrice – I only need to see her for 5 minutes to touch base but she’s so hard to get hold of. La Secretaire replys and yet again promises to call the school tomorrow to let me know the whereabouts of Madame l’Inspectrice de l’Education Nationale, or Madame Dominique Saint-Prix Bertholo as she is more informally known as.
I catch up with Nicola, Gethin, Lorraine, Stella and Leffe in The Glacier Bar. The friendly, bouncy barman, Michel, is all chat today but he’s bouncing off the walls – I blame the heat. Gethin leaves early to get a TaxiCo back to Ducos. He pays for our drinks without telling us. Bless. Nic and I make a pit-stop before heading for our bus. Nic goes first. I try the other door but it’s either jammed or occupied. Michel comes bounding out with a crazy grin fused on his face – I’d say he’s wired alright. I watch as he starts pounding on the toilet door. He’s just doing it for kicks but it’s just plain odd. He’s a soft soul but a heavy lad so I let him have his fun. Just before Nicola appears he dashes around the corner. She’s suspicious of me but I tell her that even though are lots of freaks here I only go knocking on doors at Halloween. As we turn the corner we bump into Michel. This 20 stone stoner bids us farewell, as he skips and sways down the road. Cha-cha. Cha-cha. Cha-Cha-Cha. He’s nothing like Patrick Swayze. Dirty Dancing is indeed our midweek feel good movie. And it leaves me skippin’ and a-jumpin’, with my heart a-thumpin’ all the way to the misty mornin’ fog of Friday.
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