Wet paint!

Are you all sitting comfortably?

Today's dilemma is "Should I shave my arms & legs?" but I may be a bit late already...today I was a swing, and all the hairs on my forearms have been pulled out by endless chinese-burn torturers! As for my legs, well having a kid dangling in each arm does make you a bit defenceless - who knew little girls could be so clever at inflicting pain?!

The drizzle at the gate greeting this morning lent itself to a fun new topic - colours, of boots & brollies, many bearing Thomas the Tank Engine; a few frogs, one bumble bee. No Unmentionable Mouse or Hello Kitty...one of the mums obviously wanted to talk to me, which was a bit disconcerting (I'm new here - what are the rules, please!) as I have nowhere to hide! School-gate bullying is not something I've thought of before...

I want to plug my iPod into the school PA, so we can have a theme song for the arrivee. Mine today would be "How's the Weather?" (OUP Let's Sing, Let's Chant 1), a favourite of mine ever since a silly Kiwi teacher did the most ridiculous bicycle dance thing to show "It's sunny". One song a day would have us quite a catalogue by the end of my Tour of Duty! I wonder if they are technically savvy here? They do have a fish worth Y80,000 in the entrance fish tank...

We practiced four or five songs for the camping trip tomorrow (I'm not invited?) sitting down neatly; the class monitor ("toban") made sure I had my hands behind my back. This is a stress position! Tiniest wooden chair possible, bum aching, knees by my chin (hair being pulled from thinghs) and hands behind my back? No wonder I've got the stiffest neck imaginable. Could barely stand up after that!

Risky business

The very brave teacher explained that we were going to do hand painting in large groups around tables. Carnage, surely?! Big piece of paper, dollop of paint in a bowl, "Do your worst!". I don't know many DELTAs or PhDs for this kind of teaching exist...but the penny dropped for me as this teacher ma

naged the room, not the kids; peer pressure works a treat, especially here where we all have to be team players - start & finish together, share & share alike. End product not really important, but achieved as everyone did their bit...teacher intervenes to whole class if something somewhere not going the way it should be = odd one out identified by the other 31 kids and brought into line. Clever. My metalanguage could do with this implant. However, the activity was really short...an ongoing project I can see, but for all the effort (and risk!) not much immediate pay off for the kids.

Any hand-painting or messy primary colour activity > use "What colour is it?"  (Everybody Up 1 from OUP)

The best bit was washing up though, pushing to get to the front = you got blue or yellow paint dribbled in your hair. "Clean up" song (Super Simple Songs) would work here. Can I go to my adult class looking like arterial splatter this evening?

The teacher was busy cleaning up while free/undirected arts/crafts took place as quiet time. This is where my hairs were torn out endlessly - I'm rubbish at drawing and all I can make with plasticene ("Nendo") is sausages!

Blues brothers, and sisters

The lunch marathon did my head in. Some of my classmates were even flakier than me after sitting there ("hands behind back" the little sergeant major kept drilling me every time he went past!) looking but not touching as the bowls were delivered, apparently at random but looked more like friends first? Did I want a large serving of unidentified egg/nut pie & blueberry goop? Give it a go, as I'm starving & hometime hours off! One of the serving girls kept giving me the eye & flouncing in front of me!

The remaining hairs on my wrists disappeared after lunch. I'd sat with the quiet table because they were well-behaved & we'd read a book together earlier. My compromise "We'll play later" with the noisy boys back-fired. They ate quickly to maximise our quality time together!

In the big hall I licked my wounds as some leaping dance with maracas was drilled. Aerobics too? I want to play outside (it stopped raining ages ago). Silly dance 2? I need a ball to get me interested.

Hats on - time to go home!

We were finally allowed out & I found my crew by the gate. Muddy socks but maybe my evening class won't notice? Flashback to Worksop primary school where we used to use a medium-sized stone on a blacktop playground - no such thing as a long ball to the big kid goal-hanging. You had to dribble & pass short. Oops. I just nailed annoying kid from lunch time (hair remover) between the eyes with a lob that went a bit lower & harder than intended. Erm.

Finally, finally, I could hang out with the Principal & the grown ups again, saying hello/goodbye at home time. My stalker reappeared with a friend. Oh no, this has Glenn Close written all over it. Please high five me kids, keep me busy a bit longer?