Today there is a thick fog over King’s. Now even more I feel as if I'm living in a dream. It's incredibly strange, as if I've stepped into another universe where I can look directly at the sun and feel no burning. I’ve never been able to do that before in my life. The fog apparently usually comes in the spring and is called "khamsin," or "dust of 50 days." Generally there are no clouds here and I can look out on the surrounding countryside and desert for miles. But yesterday and today I can't see anything except for the yellow and red buildings rising like floating ghost entities from the mist. I can't wait to see the view again, but something about this makes me feel so safe.
My lessons have been going well. I enjoy the kids and I think most of them enjoy me. I get most frustrated with myself when I fall short of answering their questions. It's difficult to 1) remember that what I think is intuitive and basic is not necessarily common sense to them at this point in their physics careers, and 2) most of them are learning physics in their second language. The most difficult part of teaching so far is interpreting what they mean when they ask a question and how to direct them toward a more articulate and sensical question. Sometimes it is a phrasing issue, due to the language or cultural barrier, and sometimes it is a conceptual issue having to do with the physics. Identifying which it is and how exactly I should approach clarification can be difficult. Coaching continues to be one of my favorite parts of the day. Julianne, our Dean of Students, asked the other day if I could organize a swim meet. If that happens, it's going to be an incredible experience--organizing a swim meet in Jordan!
One of my coworkers has a beautiful baby cat, 7 weeks old, with beautiful orange highlights. There is a tiny orange dot on top of her head. I played with her for a while yesterday and she just sucked on the inside of my elbow the whole time as if from a bottle. Her name is Namira.
نـمـره
In Arabic, this means "tigress." Honestly, I'm sometimes lonely here. I'm sure the relationships will develop, but of course, it takes time. I continue to obsess over the concepts of memory and dream. I forget so much of my life and it's terrifying to me. If I forget something, is it as if it never happened? Are they equivalent, the forgotten incident or the non-incident? Sometimes, I feel as if they are. Perhaps it's why I've always felt so frantic to record.
Last night I dreamt 70-80 people and I were in an auditorium watching a woman give birth at the front of the classroom. (Obviously I've been thinking too much about teaching.) She had a white sheet draped over her. She was somebody important, so the child was important too, but I can't remember why. Dragana, this intense, beautifully dominant Jordanian woman at the school who is Head of the math department, was lecturing in both Arabic and English about the "demonstration" at the front of the classroom.
My lessons have been going well. I enjoy the kids and I think most of them enjoy me. I get most frustrated with myself when I fall short of answering their questions. It's difficult to 1) remember that what I think is intuitive and basic is not necessarily common sense to them at this point in their physics careers, and 2) most of them are learning physics in their second language. The most difficult part of teaching so far is interpreting what they mean when they ask a question and how to direct them toward a more articulate and sensical question. Sometimes it is a phrasing issue, due to the language or cultural barrier, and sometimes it is a conceptual issue having to do with the physics. Identifying which it is and how exactly I should approach clarification can be difficult. Coaching continues to be one of my favorite parts of the day. Julianne, our Dean of Students, asked the other day if I could organize a swim meet. If that happens, it's going to be an incredible experience--organizing a swim meet in Jordan!
One of my coworkers has a beautiful baby cat, 7 weeks old, with beautiful orange highlights. There is a tiny orange dot on top of her head. I played with her for a while yesterday and she just sucked on the inside of my elbow the whole time as if from a bottle. Her name is Namira.
نـمـره
In Arabic, this means "tigress." Honestly, I'm sometimes lonely here. I'm sure the relationships will develop, but of course, it takes time. I continue to obsess over the concepts of memory and dream. I forget so much of my life and it's terrifying to me. If I forget something, is it as if it never happened? Are they equivalent, the forgotten incident or the non-incident? Sometimes, I feel as if they are. Perhaps it's why I've always felt so frantic to record.
Last night I dreamt 70-80 people and I were in an auditorium watching a woman give birth at the front of the classroom. (Obviously I've been thinking too much about teaching.) She had a white sheet draped over her. She was somebody important, so the child was important too, but I can't remember why. Dragana, this intense, beautifully dominant Jordanian woman at the school who is Head of the math department, was lecturing in both Arabic and English about the "demonstration" at the front of the classroom.
No comments:
Post a Comment