I have three Arabic teachers, and my favorite one is Nancy. Seriously, if I could shrink her down and make a pocket Nancy, I would. She's the most exuberant, affectionate person ever, and we compare notes on kids because she asks me every day, "How is your walad (little boy)?" and so we chat. And she pats my face and strokes my hair because Middle Easterners seem to be just a little more tactile than we are. They also get right in your face when you talk, but that's another post.
Here's the thing: she's a fantastic teacher, we're learning tons, we're perking along in our class being all productive and go-team-go, and then she feels pressure from another teacher who gives her class daily quizzes, which they DREAD, because no one is 12 anymore. So yesterday Nancy announces we may have a quiz today. Except here's how she announces it:
"I think tomorrow maybe we have a quiz. Maybe I give you the Arabic and you give me the English, maybe I give you the English and you give me the Arabic. Maybe it is matching. Maybe it is finish the sentence. Maybe I divide you into teams and we keep score. Maybe you make a play or a song. Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week..." At this point I'm like, maybe we fight in the caged ball at the Thunderdome! I mean seriously, what the hell?!?! How do you even prepare for that? So we said Nancy, what might be on this quiz-that-may-or-may-not-happen-tomorrow-or-at-some-point-in-the-indefinite-future? And she named off...everything we've covered in the last three weeks of being in class for four hours a day.
So today was in fact a quiz. And there was English-to-Arabic, and Arabic-to-English, and matching, and fill in the blank--it was a veritable smorgasbord of quiz options. And I only missed one! But still on the evaluation forms I filled out today, I wrote, "No quizzes, Nancy. Quizzes are not for grown-ups. Let Yvonne torture Class A if she so chooses." So we'll hope for the best.
Meanwhile you'll be glad to know I can say "My father works at the United Nations" in Arabic...because that's a phrase I'm sure to have ample use for.
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OK, so I'm learning to live with disappointment. Every day, most days more than once, I click on my "Shannon" bookmark in my bookmarks bar (not just in the list). And now, for more than two weeks, no new posts from Shannon. Between this and the Astros, life is barely worth living. Post, Shannon, post. For those of us without a life, for those you left behind, post. Again and often.
Much love, Donna G.
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