Tuesday Morning, First Day of School….

August 5, 2008 — culture, Fiji, gc4p, global classrooms for peace, Uncategorized

Holy Cross Secondary

6 am. The alarm rings in the morning darkness. “You’re never ready for that ring, no matter how long you’ve been lying awake, waiting” deadpans my roommate, Genna. We were up late last night scrutinizing over what we should bring to our first day of teaching in Fiji.

A heavy patter of rain starts to fall on our palm-thatched treehouse. We look outside. It’s beautiful even in the semi-darkness of dawn. We open our glass doors that look out over our incredible tropical vista. The air feels rich and warm and smells of flowers, and the sea. This is no ordinary work morning.

Lori, Genna, Deb, Caroline and I are dropped at our schools, and I’m realizing what a blessing it turned out to be that we’ve already visited each one. I walk into my first classroom at Holy Cross Secondary School. The kids are already seated. I smile and say, “Bula!” as I enter. They smile back and say, “Bula!”

Then they stare at me in anticipation.

I have a hidden agenda. I tell them nothing about who I am, where I’m from, or why I’m here. I simply ask them a question…..”If you want to know something…..what do you do?”

I’m lucky. They are a bit more adventurous than typical Fijian schoolchildren. They sense a challenge. A few hands go up.

“Ask?” ventures one.

Now, I’ve got them.

I do a lesson on how to do research. I tell them I would like their help for information on Fiji. I tell them that they are to be my sources of information. I tell them that most importantly, I will only learn what I ask them. I tell them that I will use them like I use my computer. A computer only does what you tell it, and only answers what you ask it. They get it. I ask them questions about Fiji, and they provide me with answers.

It’s their turn to do research on me. They are ready to turn the tides, and are full of questions. “How many children do you have?” is early on their list. “Three,” I say. “And since you’ve asked me, you get a bonus…..I will show you pictures of them…….I brought these all the way from California, but I was not going to show them to you unless you ASKED.”

They are more than a little intrigued with the photos. The photo of my handsome 20 year old son, Ian disappears completely until I tell them that they’re numbered. The photo of my daughter, Anna is pressed to a few sighing breasts.

“Where in the U.S. do you live?”

I pull out one of the large rolled-up laminated maps I have brought for the school. “Well since you asked………”

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