Day four. The night fades and makes way for a new day, as I wake up in some discomfort – not admirably due to the knowledge I’ve gained thus far nor due to the fact that my mattress is too small, even for a shorty like me, but because of some diiirty mosquito bites...it was only a matter of time – this ‘ajnabee’ could only be resisted for so long. I rubbed my eyes, reluctantly parting with slumber and went for a shower. I couldn’t avoid having a shower forever but I used the time in there to distract myself from the cold water with thoughts of my upcoming lessons. On this note, it took about three weeks for me to be rewarded with a warmish shower and I maintain there were secret meetings that took place well into the night that ensured that warm water and I were kept well away.
On a more smiley note, we met with the head teacher of the girls’ school today, all six of us cramping into her office, as she gave us an overview of how the school works and briefed us about the classes we would be working with. She was very calm, seemingly laid back but it was apparent that the school meant everything to her. She spoke slowly and softly but she had a presence that made you cling on to her every word. Her assistant – an eccentric character, wearing a permanent, wry smile - soon intercepted the momentum as she brought us refreshments, nodding her head as she ushered us to indulge.
We headed back to where we were staying and all I could think about was the first day we’d be teaching, it all started to feel so real. I went to the masjid where I prayed, met two guys and oh, kind of got a wedding proposal, no biggie. Well, how it actually happened was there were two guys, one who spoke English quite well and the other who spoke none. The latter gestured to me his ring finger, the international symbol for marriage and his mischievous smile widened as I apprehensively indicated that I was not, not inclined to become the village headline at any cost. The first of the two laughed and said, “You want?” to which I replied, “Hells no” or something to that effect. He then took hold of his pal’s hand, ring finger still protruding in mid-air as if to enforce the matter, and pushed it back down and said something in Arabic, concluding the matter. I then learnt what a nervous laugh was and quickly excused myself.
Later, we went into Hebron just to take a wander and grab some supplies. Our coordinator introduced us to some familiar faces and it was refreshing to meet youth who were really eager to achieve great things. One was studying to be a doctor and this was a massive deal and not something to be swept under the rug in the way that it is when someone in the UK tells you the same thing. It’s a sense of, ‘I’m going to be a doctor and change the world,’ and for that moment, I felt ashamed. I felt ashamed of attitudes towards education in the UK, the opportunities we have and how we complain about the little things whilst spitting on the golden path paved before us. During my time in Hebron that day, a boy followed me/us from the time he saw us until we got into the ‘servees’ to go back to the camp. This lasted for quite a while and this boy Ameer, no more than 12 years old, barely said a word. I’m guessing his English was non-existent but even when I asked him in Arabic as to what he wanted, he remained silent and simply looked me straight in the eye. We would enter the shops and find him waiting for us outside, resuming the trail as we drifted towards other shops. I told him to come inside one of the shops but then soon realised why he would wait outside after being subjected to some serious verbal abuse from one of the shopkeepers. I’m not sure what the significance of this incident was or what the boy wanted if anything; maybe he just wanted to hang with some outsiders, I don’t know, but for the duration of my time in Hebron that day, Ameer was my little brother and I felt a sense of responsibility over him.
First day at school tomorrow and I was feeling slightly underprepared but unusually relaxed, usually caused by seeing others around me less relaxed – strange tendency but true. We planned our lessons in quite a large classroom, one of the rooms in the place we were staying in. For my first lesson, I made a mock passport displaying a personal emblem, highlighting details about myself, my hobbies and the like, which the class could hopefully reproduce, thereby opening a small window into the lives of my kids. Wow, ‘my kids’ – my attachment with them began blossoming long before I met them. I didn’t sleep much that night but amid the suffocating humidity and the sound of the cockerel’s crow at 1am, I reminded myself that it was the small sacrifices that would make this trip the fondest of memories.
Lol I like the marriage proposal
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