just another manic monday

It's a damp, chilly evening here in Durango. I've found something that my two countries have in common; wine fixes Mondays.

We live on a bustling, busy city street; the racket from the cars, the blaring horns, the tire squeals, the hustle- it is all somehow lessoned when bathed in the dampness, the drops seeming to create a soothing effect, coating the dissonance, and lowering it to a low, almost comfortable din.

There is just enough chill in the air to warrant long pajama pants. Our windows stay open, permanently, and a clean, wet scent slips through the screen, almost like a sigh, cleansing the city, washing away its dust and grime, bathing its wounds. It doesn't create a drab or dreary effect; it's invigorating. I have to admit- it's nice.

Today was a good day. I finally got to be with all my classes, and I am quickly becoming enamored by the kids. These little minions are good. And they want to learn. They are so...interested. I've never had students clamor around my desk at the end of class, for just one last comment, one last suggestion for my book list, one last question. And they are so interesting. I learned so much about them in the last few days. Their favorite foods (pizza and nutella). Tv shows (The Walking Dead and New Girl) . Their views on Durango. Where they want to go to college. I learned that one lost a father a few years ago. He was kidnapped. I learned that two lost a cousin to suicide last month. I learned that they love the Hunger Games, just like my kiddos from Venus. One is going with his family to Texas this week, to go shopping. (I begged him to bring me back lamps!) One is going to Mexico City this weekend for a Bon Jovi concert. And they are all so concerned about how I'm settling in. We made class rules today, and one of them said that they wanted a rule that I couldn't leave after a few weeks. Apparently, international schools are notorious for teacher turn-over rate. Made my heart hurt, almost.

I'm creating a diagnostic test, at the moment, so I can see where they stand, and so I can formulate my lessons, accordingly, and determine which students may or may not need a little extra help. (So far, not a fan of Open Office. Microsoft Word should be free for teachers, I think.) Anyway, the day went really well, until the end, when a monsoon hit the school, and I had to walk in heels and dress pants, through it, to get to the teacher's lounge. My printer is supposed to send jobs to the elementary office, which is just a short walk from my room. I'm supposed to print my master copies there, and then have them signed off by my principal, and then take them to the copy room, and have the woman who works there make the copies. But my printer sent my things somewhere other than the elementary office. Maybe they are sitting on Groo's desk, in Venus? ....but nonetheless, they are not where they were supposed to be. So I saved my things on a thumb drive, and took them to the teacher's lounge, opened it up on another computer, and tried to print. Only there was no paper. And no teacher's left to ask. Luckily, I caught my principal as he was leaving and he brought down some paper from his office. Paper is a hot commodity here. I wish I hadn't left my printer and scanner at my house in Venus, with the new owners. Sure would come in handy, now. 

I can hear Jolene upstairs, reading to Caden. They were about to head out and look for me this evening, as I didn't get home til about 6:30. I knocked on that heavy metal door, and little hands pried it open in about two seconds, with a, “MOM, WHERE WERE YOU? I WAS SO WORRIED!” It's nice being loved.

Sometimes.

Peace out.