Denial

I don't want to talk about it. Scratch that, I don't want to think about it. Actually, I don't want it to have happened, and by somehow leaving it out of my mental processes, I can pretend that's so: today was not my last day of teaching at Hanmin. Today was not my farewell to all the absolutely wonderful 5th graders I've had the privilege of meeting there. And it was also not my last day working with Maggie.

Except it was.

They're unfathomable, these "lasts." They represent the ripping out of my life of things that have become wholly connected to who I am, and who I have been for the past 10--almost 11!--months. Teacher Bekah, Bekah 老師--it was a title that fit awkwardly at first, like a new shoe. Now, though, it's been worn into a second skin, and I'm reluctant to take it off, especially since doing so means saying goodbye to the nearly 1,000 students, teachers, and administrators I've been able to work with here.

I can't think too much about it. I can't. Especially since each day brings a new goodbye, a fresh "last" to add to the ever-growing list. Last day of 6th grade at Hanmin, last day of 6th grade at Qingshan, Hanmin graduation, last day of 5th grade at Hanmin, Teacher Appreciation Banquet...It's a blessing and a curse, having my endings stretched over a week and a half. I'm reminded of the lobsters who, being put in water before it's boiled, don't even realize the water is heating up until it's over.

OK, so that's a bit morbid, but the idea holds: I feel like I'm being eased into The End so gradually that I don't--can't--mourn properly for each new step. Sure, I keep writing emo-kid-worthy blog posts about it--(sorry about that)--but it's hard to let myself realize, really, that it's ending. In class, I look around and tell myself, this is the last time you'll be here, but I can't get a real sense of it. I read the mounds of cards piling up on my desk--all very sweet, all reminding me just how much I love my kids--and I think oh, well, you might still get to see them on Tuesday and Wednesday... And yes, I might: I'll be physically present at Hanmin tomorrow and the day after for various events. But even then, there are no guarantees! And after that--nothing.

I'd better end there--no sense taking that course any further down its inevitably Eeyore-ish way. I suppose there'll be plenty of time to deal with the gloom later on--and I doubt my as yet un-summoned tears will stay away once I'm actually on the plane headed home. After all, I'll have nearly 1,000 reasons to be sad.

In the mean time, here's a more pragmatic, pictoral look at my day: a day, as I've said, of goodbyes, but also of candy and cards and smiling faces.

Soooo many caaaaaards!

Not pictured: the Teacher Appreciation Banquet tonight. It was great--scrumptious food, saw several of my students (their parents were on the PTA and/or were teachers) and fun talking with Maggie and Alison--but my camera was dead. So...that happened.

Sixth Grade Surprises

I parked my scooter under the dripping tin cover, changed out of my flip flops and into the more teaching-appropriate flats I'd brought, and scurried across the open parking lot to the next bit of cover beneath the eaves of the faculty lunch room. I wasn't wearing my watch--no need for it to get wet--but I knew I probably had just a few minutes before the bell rang. When I arrived at the third floor English classroom at last, I was a little perplexed to hear noises coming from inside--it was nap time, after all!

I opened the door--and instantly the indeterminate voices solidified into a girl's squeal: "Noooo!!!!" One of my fifth graders came running across the classroom, gesticulating wildly, speaking quickly in Chinese with the occasional burst of English, and generally making me to realize I should not be there. Not yet, anyway. I clapped my hand over my eyes and stayed put, like she'd told me to.

 She was distraught, then, when she finally gave me leave to walk to my desk--only to discover Patty standing there with my surprise clearly visible in her hands, and which she proceeded to explain to me: the girls were filling a jar with 3,000 tiny stars for me, so I could have 3 wishes (one per thousand). I'm not sure if it's meant to be a belated birthday gift or early going-away present, but either way, it was absolutely supposed to be a secret, and it no longer is. Whoops.

The girls were fifth graders, but that experience was a fittingly strange beginning to my last day as a 6th grade teacher. Why, you ask? Precisely because they were fifth graders. See, on my last day as a sixth grade teacher, I saw remarkably few sixth graders--just one class of them, actually, and that the infamous class whose students I've mentioned on here before. After the first class, all the sixth graders were called away to a jump rope competition that Patty hadn't known about, so I actually spent most of the day sitting and talking with Patty, and helping grade worksheets.

The class I did have was pretty great, though. Handed out my cards and candy; Patty did the same, together the residual papers that always seem to accumulate over the course of the year--and then we taught them "Call Me Maybe" from this Youtube video:

So yeah, maybe it's a good thing we only taught the one class--that song is impossibly catchy, and will be stuck in my head plenty with just the one viewing...

And, of course, we did the photo-op thing. Except for the part where the boys were their typical selves when trying to get a picture with the girls...

Beginning to get frustrated...

Can you find the boys who are hiding?

Then I drove home in the rain, and that was that! No more sixth graders...except for the part where I'm still going to their graduations. So it's not really goodbye--not yet.

A Last, a First,and a Doctor

Well, here I am again, serving up a title--and day--to which my writing/motivation for writing will not even remotely do justice. But I mean, really, what did I expect, channeling a C.S. Lewis title when beginning a blog post at 1am with my eyes already half shut?

Anyway, I'll do my best. Here, in a nutshell, was my day.

A Last

I woke up this morning sad--and more than a little sleepy. I instantly gave up on caring how I looked today and reset my alarm, but still, 8am found me at the front of the Hanmin 3rd floor meeting room, looking out at a sea of tiny faces for the last time. This week marked my last-ever Morning English, and it was with 1st graders, teaching them words like "cartoons" and "animals" and--their favorite--"candy." They were precious, and I didn't mind remotely that we didn't make it more than 2/3 of the way through the lesson--I just wished, for their sakes, we had made it to the videos.

Morning English has been, for me, something of a mixed blessing. On the one hand, it's the single most freedom I've had in my duties while here: I get to teach what I want, how I want, and so have been able to incorporate themes like going to the movies, and phrases like "What's up?" in my lesson plans. In addition, through Morning English I get to teach every single Hanmin student, 1st-6th grade, at least once a semester. And the kids really like it, what with my being a novelty and us throwing prizes at them for every answer and everything. So, for that, it's wonderful.

On the other hand, it's meant fighting horrific traffic and horrendously-timed stoplights every week, in order to complete my long commute by no later than 8am--and believe me, I've come within minutes of missing that mark more often than not. I'm not exactly what you'd call a morning person. (Just check the time stamps of every single blog post I've ever written, if you want proof.)

And now it's over, both good and bad. The worst of it is that it is a last, another last adding to the countdown till I'm done teaching (16 days--ahhh!) and leave Taiwan for good (35 days). Farewell, Morning English--you may be missed.

A First

As an added gripe this morning, after I finished Morning English, I had 2 hours to wait before I had anything else official to do. Normally I have an hour--Morning English ends at 8:30, and my first class is at 9:30--but this morning my classes had finals (yep, they do finals in elementary schools here) in their first class period, so I had nothing until 10:25am. So, in the meantime, I sat in the subject teachers' office and chatted with Maggie, Alison, and Fiona.

Around 9am, I was mid-sentence talking to Fiona, when I saw her eyes grow large; out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alison get up quickly and go to look at something.

"What is it?" I asked.
"Earthquake--don't you feel it?"

Nope. No, I did not. Even after having Alison, Fiona and Maggie all confirm that the ground was moving, and focusing all of my thoughts on being able to feel my first-ever earthquake, I felt it for maybe 2 seconds right before it stopped. If I had been alone, I doubt I would have ever known. Which seems to me as though it might not bode well for my sense of balance...

Anyway, the earthquake damaged nothing and no one anywhere in Taiwan (I checked), and didn't so much as put a dash of concern on anyone's face. Business as usual here. (Really, though--the report I linked above says this was a normal release of pressure.) Pretty anticlimactic, really--but at least I can say I've experienced an earthquake now, and no one was injured in the process!

A Doctor

Yes, in theory this could refer to the copious amounts of Doctor Who I've been watching lately, but that is not the case. Nope, today Analicia, Fonda and I went to a local dermatologist--and I will never be able to take myself seriously ever again.

I don't mean that the visit was funny or ridiculous in any particular way--though I couldn't quite help myself from chuckling as the dermatologist told Analicia she should wear sunscreen and a hat and a mask and a jacket and bring an umbrella every day. I just mean that I kind of knew from the start that was probably the advice we'd be getting, and I felt myself unintentionally joining the ranks of the skin-obsessed Taiwanese culture.

(For the record, I went to check out an odd mark on my skin--which turned out to be nothing, like I was figuring/hoping--and because healthcare is nationalized here, so the visit cost me $5USD out-of-pocket.)

So yes, I have now been to a Taiwanese dermatologist. But I'll keep my skin tanned anyway, thank you very much.

Like I said, this blog post is kind of short shrift. But, for today, anyway, it's the best that I can do--but at least it was an interesting day!