A Cuban, Dutch, American and Eritrean student all walk into a classroom to watch a movie…

Is it a joke? Nope, it’s just the end of the term at ISK.

On Friday we finished our first term. Ahhhhhh.

Now, Robin and I are enjoying our break: lots of movies, t.v. episodes, cooking good dinners, car repairs and hours of sleep.

Catch you when things pick up.

Mali likes to pretend that we include her in everything.

So she lurks just outside every time we sit down to eat.

Even when it’s too dark to see her.

Good thing the window makes such a nice chin-rest.

Christmas cookies are one of the most important Christmas traditions. They are beautiful and add such a nice edible touch to the decorations. Plus, who isn’t transported *somewhere* when they eat a Russian Tea Cake?

But, here in Rwanda, who wants to sacrifice the precious chocolate chips and marzipan necessary to make a full spread of holiday treats?

The solution is to gather a group of girls who want to impress each other with their baking skills and can think of no better way to impress each other than to use chocolate chips and marzipan!

How about hand-cut gingerbread men?
Or Ghirardelli chocolate chip cookies?
Or hand tie-dyed sugar cookies that made a permanent mark on the hands of the baker?
And don’t forget a huge pot of apple cider.
Oh and a precious pot of Dunkin’ Doughnuts coffee.

If you like that sort of thing.

I mean, if you want some edible Christmas decorations.

Really, just if you want to.

And if you want your house to be overflowing with cookies.

The all-boy field trip last week was a trip to climb part of Mt. Bisoke in the Virunga mountain range. It was a collaborative field trip between science, photography and English class for our secondary students. Different classes had different assignments so it made for interesting question and answer times with the guides.

The hike was beautiful. We didn’t see any animals (thanks to the aforementioned boys), but we did see a group of gorilla guards. Approximately 70 % of the gorillas in the Rwandan side of the Virunga range are under constant monitoring. Each group of gorillas is guarded against poaching and monitored for the sake of tourists. We saw the guards for one group crossing our trail and I am convinced that, provided we had quieter traveling companions, we would have seen the gorillas as well.

In the afternoon we visited the Dian Fossey Gorilla Fund and were given a fantastic presentation about their work. The boys were enthralled. They asked questions for nearly an hour. Mind you, we did not see an actual living gorilla. They were held captive just by verbal descriptions of gorilla life and the work to protect that. Later, the woman giving the presentation told us that she sees “gorilla magic” all the time. Just a description of the animals is enough to pique the curiosity of anyone.

So, next time I head up that way, I’m going to see the gorillas.

If you agree to help chaperone an all-boys field trip…you might get stuck on a two hour car trip with boys.

If you get stuck on a two hour car trip with boys…you might decide to ban some of them from having sugar on the rest of the trip.

If you ban a boy from having sugar…he might pester you about it for the next two days.

If a boy is pestering you about sugar…you might just start to ignore him.

If you ignore boys too long…they might start to loudly complain about the stinging nettles along the trail.

If boys complain about stinging nettles…they might find out that you grew up with stinging nettles and you don’t have much sympathy.

If you don’t have much sympathy for complaining boys…you might be the perfect person to chaperone an all-boy field trip.

And you just might have a really good time.

Has anyone ever read that book? You know, it has amazing Steven Kellogg illustrations and was featured on Reading Rainbow so many times that it just *had* to become an American classic. Jimmy’s class takes a field trip to a farm and, when Jimmy’s boa decides to meet the farm animals, chaos ensues.

We had the appropriate amount of chaos of our play adaptation of the book last Friday night. Kids were telling me about the flutters in their stomachs as more and more parents packed themselves into our cafeteria. Our farmer was just late enough to make everyone nervous. And the bus finished their costume just in time.

But the parents never saw the chaos.

I stressed, during rehearsals, that the kids were very much responsible for being quiet backstage and entering on cue. We practiced and practiced walking in straight lines, making noise when onstage and immediately silencing once off, pausing to allow other characters on stage and not trampling the pigs. I told the kids that I would be sitting in the front row of the audience and wouldn’t be able to help them during the play. The younger classes were assigned 6th grade helpers to assist them while onstage and the older classes were expected to take care of themselves. Everyone knew their part. And everyone was listening for the bell.

Mr. Dolinger had a few words to say to the parents before the play began. I spent that time saying final words to the classes and having our pictures taken together. Finally, Mr. D introduced me to the parents. I walked onstage, rang the school bell and took my seat. The cafeteria was hushed. Suddenly students appeared, quietly taking their places behind the curtains and lining up just to the sides of the stage. The small group of curtain warmers walked onstage and greeted the parents.

It was the most quiet, organized start that I could have wished for. And it made me look awesome as a director. Director Pavlov.

Of course, I have to thank all of the elementary and preschool teachers who waited backstage with their classes and all of the amazing kids for their hard work. Without them there is no way I could have looked so cool. It was an excellent play.

And now everybody wants to do a longer one…

I had a dilemma when choosing the picture for this post – should I use the “teamwork” picture that shows most the team surrounding the bike in an effort to make a smooth transition from one rider to the next or should I use the “pillbug” picture that shows what each guy looked like as he finished a lap? My choice would determine the lasting impression of the team – tall and strong or down and silly.

Down and silly just seemed so much more representative.

The bike race was partially sponsored by Project Rwanda and the elongated bike that you see pictured is one of their bikes. The race was one of many that happened at the stadium that day; all of them used Project Rwanda bicycles. I didn’t witness all of them, but I know that at least two of the races involved milk cans being transported using the bikes.

Our race was the “corporate cup.” 20 NGOs, corporations and government groups entered. Oh and us. ISK was the lone school represented at the race. Our team of four included Mr. Dolinger, Mr. Thies, Mr. Smith and Mr. Crocker. None of them had ridden a bike in the last two years.

After a qualifying heat, a semi-final race and the final race, ISK came away with a 4th place ranking. Not bad considering they’d never ridden the weird bikes before, the weird bikes had weird brakes that locked up instantly and caused spectacular crashes/rider transitions and that none of us on the support crew remembered to bring any water.

The riders came away with very healthy appetites for their Thanksgiving dinner.

And a pillbug camaraderie.

This picture captures the craziness of our Wednesday Thanksgiving. My camera battery was dead so I missed out on getting my own images of the afternoon ISK bike race or the evening meal (thanks Marissa for this one!). The day was like three separate days all stuck together. First was the morning of school, second the afternoon race at the stadium and finally dinner at our house.

Dinner really shouldn’t have been crazy. The meal was shared among 13 people and nobody had to make more than two or three items. I was in charge the turkey, green bean casserole and mashed potatoes. I fought with the turkey the night before (who knew that they wouldn’t chop off the head before they gave it to me?) and it successfully brined and baked. Our 11 guests all arrived bearing delicious food. The table was in the process of being set and a football game from last December was playing in the living room.

Then the power went out.

Those of us in the kitchen slapped on headlamps and continued carving the turkey and whisking the gravy. Robin lit candles on the table. It didn’t take too long before those of us in the kitchen gave up. Who really wants to carve a turkey by headlamp anyway? And the gravy whisking was disrupted every time the headlamp-wearer turned to see who was walking into the kitchen. We just set everything on the table and began to eat by candle light.

And that was just fine.

The turkey tasted fine by candle light. The two kinds of stuffing tasted fine by candle light. The rolls tasted fine by candle light. The corn with mint tasted fine by candle light.

Then the power came back on and everything continued to taste just fine.

Even the tree tomato tart.

Every afternoon they congregate outside my balcony.

Every afternoon I can hear them chanting.

“Mr. Smith! Mr. Smith!”

Every afternoon Mr. Smith stands outside his classroom and passes a tiny plastic football toward the masses. It usually hits one in the face and bounces off into the bushes. They hunt around, find the plastic ball and throw it back. Then the chanting resumes.

Every afternoon.

Although, nothing has been quite the same since one of the kids started calling him “Mr. Sniff.”

The sixth grade class exploded volcanoes today. I was there to chronicle the moment.

Teaching feels a bit like this sometimes. On the inside anyway.

Teachers lay the foundations for discovery and direct their kids toward information and then jump back when, BOOM, the kids just “get” it. It might happen in a class discussion, a perfect math sheet, a thoughtful project or an amazing presentation. The students are oblivious, but the teacher is jumping back on the inside. “Are they actually doing EXACTLY what they are supposed to be doing as students?”

My debate class (7th and 8th grades) did that to me last week in a discussion contrasting European vs. American gun control. I didn’t say a word for fifteen minutes while they deliberated the merits of strict control (apparently leads to higher rates of gun violence in certain European countries, but might prevent escalating violence) vs. no government control at all (takes away the fun of illicit ownership, allows practical experience, but does circulate a lot of guns). They were amazing. I was so proud. Not a single argument came from me. Everything came from their own research.

Teachers conduct experiments every day. Will this book excite them? Will they learn something from this project? Will this questions provoke further thought? It’s really nice when the experiment pays off with a BOOM.