I’ve decided today that I would be the happiest if I could only work in 3^rd grade and above classes. Today I had 5^th grade from 9-10, four-year-olds from 10-11:50, 6^th grade from 12:20-1:10 and 4^th grade from 1:10-2. Keeping in mind what I just said, which class do you think I enjoyed the least? You get a gold star if you guessed the four-year-olds! So naturally, I had that age group the longest (two classes). I’ve said this before, but they’re so young and just don’t listen well (some at all!). The first hour actually wasn’t bad at all; I was surprised because they were better behaved than the six-year-olds from yesterday. They were really quiet, listened to Sandra, the teacher, and got along really well with each other (for the most part, nothing like the second hour).

The second class of four-year-olds was a completely different story. Think about the most opposite you can imagine…now times that by 87! Yeah, it was that night and day. On our way to the class—right next door—Sandra told me this class wasn’t as good as the first and this boy named Héctor, or something like that, was the worst, and yes, I was able to spot this Héctor as soon as we walked in. How? He was the one screaming the loudest. It was pretty much mass chaos the entire hour. We walked in and the kids were running around like nomads. It was kinda cute (at first) because this little girl (I still don’t know her name) came right up to me and gave me a hug! And then she was all over me the rest of the hour. I stood by the door and observed the class for a few minutes and she stood with me and put my arm around her. She was also talking to me and I had no idea what she was saying (kids at that age are hard to understand in any language, you know?) so I smiled, nodded and said “sí” a lot. I set my bag down on the table (huge mistake) and I looked over a minute later and she was going through it: she had my map of Socu out, she was looking at my sunglasses and opened my folder. I tried to say “GIVE IT BACK!” in the nicest way possible and I think I succeeded although, I may have been a little too nice, because half an hour later, she was flipping through my stuff again…really?

As for Héctor, I don’t know if he has, like, cognitive issues or what but every time Sandra asked the class or him to do something, he would start screaming (not your average “NO!” I don’t want to do it scream, it was a prolonged, blood curdling scream…once every two minutes…yeah, it got old fast). He wouldn’t do what Sandra wanted him to do, so she would try to pick him up and put him on the carpet or wherever and he would lay down an fight her tooth and nail every step of the way. He was also up and around all the time; he would scuttle under a table and sit there or sit somewhere as far away from Sandra as possible. He would be laying down, then he would stand up and throw himself back on the ground. He kept doing that and it was very strange. They’re working on colors right now, so I tried to lead an activity in which I would say “Go touch something yellow/blue/red etc. That lasted all of 90 seconds because they would go run around the room to find the color and scream…all the way there and keep screaming. Imagine, if you will, 20 four-year-olds screaming all at once. Yeah, it was pretty stellar…

Those two hours aside, the day was fun: we played Simon Says in 5^th grade, I met the other 6^th grade class and I love them! They’re so talkative (in a good way!), they were asking me questions and vice versa; it was lighthearted and they really love English! I wish I could be in there every day. My last class was with 4^th grade and they’re awesome too! Yesterday, Rocío asked me to bring any materials I had on Nebraska, so I brought my map, post cards and stickers and talked with them about the good life! It was fun.

Oh, and I also went to the bank before school to pick up my debit card and it wasn’t there. The (not-so-nice) lady was like “It got sent to your apartment” and I was like “I don’t understand, when I came last week and talked with the (nicer) guy he said I had to come back here to pick it up” and she was like “no, it was sent to your house and it should be arriving today.” I told Aurora this once at school and she said that didn’t make any since either. She said she would come with me to the bank this afternoon, but she was nowhere to be found afterschool. So I got home today and asked Will about any mail (he has our one and only key) and he said there wasn’t any. Now, I am annoyed with the (not-so-nice) lady.
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Update: I just talked with mom and dad and they said I received something from Spain in the mail. What could it be? My bank card. Someone PLEASE tell me why, why they would send my debit card—for my Spanish bank account, here!—home to the U.S.?

Xoxo,

Court