“Phones off! Phones in bags! Bags up front!”
‘Phone’ was a word that never needed translation, as these items were affixed to my students palms since Day 1. I’ve never seen such addiction to social networking in my life, as they type pages of texts to their friends two classes over.
“But Teachuh…” starts the chorus of begging. “Teachuh, dictionary” says Kahloud, as she points at her only lifeline.
“That must be a very long word you’re typing. I’ll be your dictionary”. She smiles at the sarcasm. In all honesty, it would save me a lot less hassle if they solely used their phone dictionaries. I never quite understood how every semester I’d end up with high-level books for low-level students. Today’s vocabulary lesson was no exception.
“So girls, how was your weekend?” I predict the responses to be about shopping and sleeping. Yet, I hope for more.
“I go shopping with my sister” says Hanan. “Sleeping… just”, says Noura.
I then look to my favorite (Yes, I have favorites..). Knowing that she’ll give me a unique response, I repeat the question. “How was your weekend, Sumayah?”
“I do nothing. But today, I see my teacher last semester, and she give me a beer!”
With raised brows, I’m sure that I heard her wrong. You can’t even bring vanilla extract into this country, due to its alcohol content. Let alone, a beer! “Umm, she gave you a what?” I casually ask.
“A beer”, Sumayah says nonchalantly.
Eyes to the sky, I’m searching for all of the words I’ve heard misused over these past two years.
“Can you spell it?”
“B-E-A-R” and then she looks at me like I’m the crazy one for not knowing what a bear is. Of course I can’t explain the difference between bear and beer. The latter was an “Avoid” topic on the Culture Sensitivity List. So instead we spend 5 minutes doing word repetition, by saying everything we know about bears. They will not leave my class saying Ms. Ashley taught them about beer.
We then start class with a reading about a man with 13 jobs, one of them being an “Undertaker”. This is a new word that takes every bit of effort, from drawing graves to acting out a funeral. After my performance at the front of the classroom, I get baffled stares. Then suddenly my one 40+ year-old, Amani, proudly shouts out.. “Ahhh, Teacher… Undertaker, like WWE!!” The class must not have heard my stifled giggle and lack of confirmation, as they erupted in “Ahhhs” and “ohhhs” of instant understanding.
At the bottom of my lesson plan is a space for notes.
Tomorrow: Phone dictionaries