The day is Thursday. The class is 8G. The activity is— well, in fact, it doesn’t matter what the activity is. Whether group work, class discussion, a game, or pretty much anything under the scant winter sun, one student of mine never fails to vocalize his excitement for what is going on in class. “Yes, yes, very good!” This is often accompanied by some light clapping, or at the very least a wide, winning smile. He sounds genuinely thrilled; the same student, the same phrase, and the exact same tone of voice, every class without fail. For weeks, this is nearly all I heard out of him. It served as his response to questions, feedback on other students' thoughts, or even just as a friendly interjection to fill the air during no particular moment at all. I assumed— erroneously, as it would turn out— that he did this simply because he did not know very much English. At least this behavior, while indeed unconventional, was harmless, which is more than can often be said in such a scenario. Two weeks ago in class, the students discussed music and their favorite songs. I, in the style of an amateur circus clown, pretended to use my dry erase marker as a microphone and made my way around the classroom to hear what each one had to say. As I approached the back left corner of the room, my mind involuntarily prepared itself to hear the previously discussed familiar phrase from its usual point of origin. I was already brewing up a silly way to respond (most probably something like, oh, your favorite song is called ‘Yes Yes Very Good?’ That’s cool, who sings it?). But to the great surprise of all of my bodily systems, the student of interest instead began by sarcastically complimenting me on my fake microphone, then proceeded to tell me— in excellent English— all about his favorite song. Hm. This time, I think I may have been the one to utter a, “yes, yes, very good,” after pausing for a few seconds to process the unfolding situation. I commended him for his answer, then mentioned (perhaps too bluntly) that I didn’t expect him to say something so… out of the ordinary. Upon hearing this, he grinned ear to ear, raised his voice about 2 decibels, and let it out like air from a balloon: “Yes, yes, very good!” Very good, indeed. Now that I am wise to his true level of fluency (only a good 10 weeks into the school year, mind you), I realize he has simply made himself the volunteer hype-man/ class comedian. And now that he knows I think it’s hilarious, he has recruited a little barbershop quartet of boys to join him in the cheerful chorus of his catch phrase. I laugh every time— and once Thursday rolls around, that laughter is usually really needed. Occasionally they modify their script (sometimes I hear, “very nice!" or, “very of course!”), and I only laugh more heartily at these amendments. In all, though, whether young Nikola in 8G knows it or not, I think his favorite phrase is quite apropos. Life as of late has brought its usual mix of stresses and joys— the latter of which, I still maintain, outweigh the former. I perceive (whether this is correct or not) that I am losing the attention of several of my classes, and/or don’t have the strong voice and years of experience necessary to handle a rowdy room and be engaging enough to actually reach my students. In fact, sometimes I’m positive that I’m doing a lackluster job and was certainly not cut out for this role. But sometimes that feeling turns on a dime— usually after teaching one of the better classes— and I decide I’ll keep on showing up and giving it a try. It’s fairly easy to tell when a class enjoys my being there, and in return, it’s the students and classes such as these that remind me how much less enriching my life would be if I had never met them. Yes, yes, very good. On Thanksgiving, along with several of my Fulbright peers and myriad other guests, I had the sweet opportunity to dine with the US Ambassador to Bulgaria at his residence in Sofia. The locale was unique, the conversation enlightening, and the food was out of this world (I think I’m still digesting it). A completely American spread— right down to the turkey, which came from a US base in Kosovo, as the Ambassador boasted— was just what we were all craving after being away from home for a few months, and I believe I ate enough of everything to last me for the remainder of my time here. It was a bit too early for visions of sugar plums, but I guarantee that visions of sweet potatoes, stuffing, and mini pumpkin pies danced in my head that night. Just afterward, it was on to Veliko Tarnovo with a small group of good people; a city of historic structures, beautiful views, and steep elevation, and a great place to recall all of the things that there are to be thankful for. Yes, yes, very good. Coming up next week is my school’s Christmas production, and rehearsals have been wrapping up with haste, success, and a dash of chaos. In one particular moment during last week's practice, I— standing in the school’s multipurpose room while Bulgarian chatter, stage direction, giggles, and musical chords bounced off the walls— really felt the sweetness of being here. This year, my inaugural listen to the classic ‘All I Want for Christmas is You’ wasn’t broadcast through a car radio or piped through the speakers of a store in the mall, but rather sung beautifully in-person by one of my 10th grade students, there in our slightly chilly ground-floor schoolroom (by the way, @Mariah Carey, you have competition). With the 100-day mark now in the rearview and Christmas break close ahead, I have little to complain about, except that maybe time should stop moving so quickly. Of course it's true that some days I wake up to the dark and the cold and I’d rather do anything but go to school. Others, I’m completely over the 'outsider’ feeling, and I just want to be around friends and English and familiar things again. But there will be a time for all that, and I’m sure when it gets here, I’ll feel like it came too quickly. So for now, everything is good. Yes, yes. Very good.
0 Comments
|
A play on blagodarya
|