vendredi 09.02.07 Plastic bags
Arlette and Richard are up at the crack of dawn as per usual. It’s only 5,30 but already Richard has been down with the post and a bunch of bananas. I know I shouldn’t but I have a banana with my breakfast. I’m going to suffer later.
Nicola and I take the same bus this morning. The grumpy driver is actually in a good mood and he greets us with a broad smile. I briefly saw John, our good neighbour, on the bus yesterday and I decide to invite him over to ours tonight. We has planned to go out to Little Buddha for the masked ball but since Lionel is engaged with gate-duty and J.V is supposedly banned from the club after his antics last week and the majority of the other fine fighters are working we decide to have a quiet night in.
I continue with numbers today; just as I had intended – though not planned. Aurore is back in Christophe’s class today. She’s still wearing her long trademark orange taffeta skirt and brown string top ensemble. I start off getting the kids to count from zero to thirty with me before continuing up to one hundred. They seem to know their numbers pretty well and I test their knowledge by writing random numbers on the board and later asking them to circle the ones I call out. I use some phrases to help them through the numbers. Thirty days hath September. Forty winks. Fifty-Cents. In the 1960’s. He’s in his seventies. She’s in her eighties. Can I have a 99 please? A hundred percent. I’ve told you a thousand times. Two thousand and seven. Thanks a million. Next I give them out tickets I’ve made with a mobile number on one side (in blue) and a fixed line number on the other side (in green). We go through a little dialogue:
Girl ) Boy (
Hello! Hello!
What is your name? My name is Jordan.
What is your name?
My name is Clarisse.
Do you have a mobile? Yes, I have.
What is your number? My mobile number is 086 343 99 09.
Thankyou.
I will call you tonight.
One pupil asks the other their number and takes it down on the blackboard. The roles are then reversed. Most pupils are still using single digits but I get them to use the words double and triple/treble where appropriate.
To break up the scenarios I produce a world map and introduce them to the idea of International dialling codes. It’s relevant and useful as some of them are fixed on Martiniquan land and lines.
00 353 Ireland.
00 33 France.
00 44 United Kingdom.
00 49 Germany.
00 61 Australia.
00 81 Japan.
00 1 Canada.
00 1 America.
I have tickets made with the country name on one side and the code on the other. Even though it’s a bit like clutching at straws I ask them to guess which country the code belongs to; it gets them into search mode. The one who guesses correctly gets to come up and fix it on the map. To test their memory I then take each ticket off and ask them what the code is for that country. There are a few photographic memory heads in Christophe’s class and ‘Robin Gibb’ Castor’s surrogate class. We then continue with the dialogues and end with a quick fire team game where I call out a number and the competitors have to write it on the board. For once Mr. Castor’s class are tame. No slagging matches. No taunts. No messing.
Jossylene appears after break. She’s dressed up to the nines; could she be having an affair? She thanks me for the corrections I did for her and repeatedly apologises for the delay in sending me similar text thanks. She won’t be sitting in on my class today as she’s only dropping by to speak to Madame Dau de la Directrice. She does however have something for me; an application form for a second stint as an assistante. It has to be returned to the Rectorat by 20th February. I don’t need to make excuses or explain myself as she begins to ask me about my plans for Carnaval, Semaine de Langue and St. Patrick’s Day. The bell rings. The kids come. Jossylene goes. Bedlam breaks loose. The kids bring their yard antics into the classroom as they kick and thump one another. Madame Pamphile calls them a pack of barbarians once they’ve settled down.
We play listen and touch and listen and tick with numbers zero to twelve. I also muddle up the tickets and make some disappear for team games. I teach them the rhyme 1,2 Put on my shoe using On/Off light and shoe actions and exaggerated Look for elves motions. We end the class with a few rounds of BINGO and a lot of excited, aspiring Bingo hall boys and girls squeal with delight as they a full house! I don’t get to tell them about ‘Legs Eleven’, ‘Two little ducks’ et al. It’s probably just as well as confusion could have come a-knockin’ 3,4 on the door. Carnaval brings its own heady craziness. I can’t wait to see whether my children come into school wearing their Carnaval costumes. Some schools allow it. Nic has had a few characters in school today. Since Carnaval is fast approaching some of her students came dressed-up in suits; the guys like pimps and the girls like slutty secretaries. Some of the outfits were more reserved that Nic actually thought that they were going for interviews or were new teachers. A suit or uniform does a lot for appearances and attitudes.
We do our shopping in Leader Price. Nic arrives too late to see the fracas between two ladies at the cash desk. One of them tries to take the other ladies basket as she empties it of the last few bits. However, the basket case causes a fuss telling the other lady to lay her hands off her basket. Security is called and one male customer tells the ladies to calm down. They quieten down but both have permanent frowns etched across their dark brows. Nic and I pop to Mercure for spuds and meat. Our shopping totals €60. We’ve just missed the bus and so we head to a nearby café for repose and refreshment before setting off again. My little moustachioed friend waves at us from the counter. He’s too busy to come over and we’re gone before the lunch rush ends. Our bus driver is the newest grump on the block. He has extremely dark features. Once all the people at the bus have seated themselves he sets off – 10 minutes before the appointed time. A lady by the roadside tries to flag him down but he zips past her. “Salopard!” she yells at him, waving her fist at the bus as it disappears around the corner. We instantly find ourselves stuck in traffic but the wandering woman is not to know.
Nic and I settle down to dinner, and a quiet night in. John called to say that he has a practise session in Francois and so he won’t be over tonight. The army lads give a few jingles too but we tell them we’re immobilised tonight. Madame Bonne calls to say that Eurielle will be in school tomorrow so I don’t have a lesson. Suits me so as I’ve just gotten ravaged by banana-sniffing mosquitoes and am physically and mentally drained. I apply anti-bite ointment but bed is the only solution.
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