More at school…

The Lopit way to learn is this:
The teacher writes on the board.
The students mindlessly and slowly copy it all into unorganized, torn notebooks.
And I really don’t know what happens after that.
But the writing thing is a process to behold.
My boys get out straight-edges to make margins, draw rules and underline words.
On Tuesday, I made a squiggly line. They had no idea what to do with that. No idea. The strict, line-drawing concentration on every one of their little faces clouded into confusion and they fingered their rules and looked around at each other, absolutely befuddled.
I’m sorry, but I had to smirk a little.
We’re trying to get used to one another, you know. It will take some time. I expect them to be on time. They mosey in when they please. I introduced “lines” to their school discipline. The other teachers make them carrying down bamboo poles from the mountain, I guess. Said bamboo poles just sit in a pile; I’m not sure what plans they have for them. Anyway, the idea of writing the same thing over and over is not so appealing for them, so I hope to get them to class on time from now on. Only one kid was on time this morning. The other ten came in anywhere from 10 to 30 minutes after 8:30. I know they were out dancing and drinking last night, so my sympathy isn’t so great. But, then again, there is still technically no timetable, and the teachers all come when they please and the other children run around like crazy people. Ugh.
I try to have fun. They stare at me blankly. I try to start in Lopit, showing them verbs and nouns, and bring that over into the English sentence structure we’re supposed to be learning. Their eyes glaze over. I ask them to shout out word as they think of them. They tense up, unaccustomed to spontaneity as part of the class.
But today I did have a little breakthrough, so that was good. We played a game and they got into it and didn’t want to stop. They might have even learned a little something.
Excellent.
It’s been a long first week of teaching, as we’ve had to take our routines and smash them into a million pieces. We’ve been exhausted every night, but somehow blessed by the work. Our friends have wondered some if we’ve died—they’re upset we haven’t come to play!—but we’ll strike a balance soon and get in the flow of things, I’m sure. Just pray for us. Teaching, plus the formal ministries we’re starting, plus the intense curriculum and the heat and practical everyday stuff like cooking and cleaning, etc., plus some strange happenings in the village, plus carrying our weight to carry the team, plus building and maintaining relationships with the people…. all that—preceded by and flowing from trying to run the Christian race ourselves, lest we be disqualified—has burn-out written all over it. But TIMO is as TIMO does, and we’re confident our labor will bear fruit!