100 Uses for an Exercise Band and Other Teacher Things

There is something absolutely delicious about an assignment that takes the task of thinking away from the teacher and hands it to the students.


It leaves time for dressing up in exercise bands and colanders, and for taking ussies with your collaborative, in-classroom, teaching partner.


We finally have our students in class and have been tasked with teaching them the fine art of communication with a dab (yes, Silas, I said dab) of critical thinking thrown in. My goal--make them work harder than I do while we are in the classroom.


By throwing a mix of items onto a table and asking the students to come up with 100 uses for those items in 10 minutes, at that moment, the students were thinking way harder than I was and thus working harder than I was, too.

A small success.


The students were no longer sitting down.

As a matter of fact, they were jumping up to hustle around their tables to stand next to one another, looking over one another's shoulders and talking to one another.

Group secretary

For those of you who have lived and/or taught here, you know that this kind of genuine communication between boys and girls is exciting when it happens as it seldom happens outside of families.

Wire hanger uses...

And to be frank, the students were not just talking--they were shouting at one another. They were beginning to network and to learn to learn from one another instead of just from me and my trusty colleague (the one with the colander hat).

Considering 100 uses for paper cups.

Okay, the students were not quiet. But quiet is boring. And while I am at it, textbooks, classes driven entirely by teacher lectures, and set syllabi are boring. Really super-duper boring.

There. I have said it. May the teaching deities strike me down.

This looks like success!

On On, On Up, On Down, Down Down



 

 

A visit to Muscat would not be complete without a Hash.

 

 

But what is the Hash, you ask? Oh ye who have not read every single one of my posts (if you had, you would have read about it six years ago or so), exclusively for your benefit, I have found this--a video from the USA that explains a Hash better than I ever could without losing your attention. A word for warning for those with delicate ears--there are some naughty words bandied about in the video. If they make your skin crawl, stop right here because it just gets worse at the Hash.

Check out that flour...totally on trail I am.

And Hux? Also owning the trail. Well done, Hang Tang!

Something we noticed on this trip is that we require two hands and a foot to count all of the Hash sites that have disappeared since we left Muscat two years ago. With the rapid pace of development and the constantly expanding infrastructure improvement projects, finding a place to lay a Hash seems to be getting downright difficult. Although a Hash can be run in the middle of a city, this group prefers to be out in the middle of nowhere, for obvious reasons. A few standby sites still exist, though, with this site being one of them.

At the end of the run, if you're super lucky (and we were this week), there is food and refreshment and the promise of another Hash the next week.

ON ON!

No Feet Allowed

Dear Children Three--

Welcome back, Silas, from Scout Camp and welcome to your mostly daily letter from Yo Mama. I bet you missed me lots while you were gone, Silas. Good news! I was able to obtain (somewhat back handedly) a bunch of samosa tonight and put them in the freezer. If all goes as planned, I should be able to have them in your mouths in three weeks!

On to the excitement of the day...


After the students arrived tonight, we had orientation. They started out all quiet and sweet and sitting nicely in rows, boys in the front, girls in the back. Actually, very few of the new participants know each other so they are all a little bit shy.






However, some of the participants from last year had been brought on board to assist with the program this year, and they were so happy to see one another again.



Some of the returnees had just participated in major family events--births, weddings, and funerals--and one had the henna to prove it.

Since a large part of this program is dedicated to developing critical thinking and problem solving skills, the orientation went very quickly from an event filled with passive listening to one in which students had to cooperate to solve puzzles and complete challenges in order to gather necessary information about their schedules, instructors, and upcoming classes.

They were divided into groups of four and set loose to find faculty members. When they found me, I had them complete a task.

Me: Okay...your challenge is to get from these white chairs to those green chairs.

Group of Four Students: Those chair that are five meters away?

Me: Yes.

Group of Four: Oh, Miss, that is easy!

Me: Yes, but only one of your can touch the floor. The rest of you cannot touch the floor...but you still have to get everyone in your group from these white chairs to those green chairs.

Group of Four: How?

Me: I don't know.

Group of Four: Hmmmm...

Here are the solutions devised by some of the groups.

The moving-two-chairs approach

The make-a-river-of-chairs approach

                                                               

                                                                                         The make-a-line-of-tables approach

We also had the load-a-chair-with-a-partner(s)-and-slide-them approach. No photos though, Sorry.

As always, their solutions were fun to watch and it was also fun to wonder how American students might have solved the same problem. Any ideas?

Until tomorrow, inshallah.

Yo Mama

Jarring Morning Walking

On a summer night, the temperature in Muscat seems to never drop below 85 degrees Fahrenheit. Thus that I’ll-exercise-once-it-cools-down-a-bit-this-evening promise holds absolutely no water, and it is easy to go from active to slug in a matter of days. Most days this leaves me trying to drag out the door in the morning. I managed it this morning. Go me. 

The sun here rises at around 5:30 a.m. which means the temperatures are fairly scorching by 7:30 a.m. The window of outdoor exercise opportunity slams shut by 6:30 a.m. This morning I slipped in a walk just as the weather was sliding on the heat continuum from will-make-you-somewhat-sweaty to will-make-you-look-freshly-showered-but-smell-really-really-bad. I had forgotten this reality over the last year and am still trying to come to terms with it.

The university that is hosting us looms large and drab white over a very swank part of Muscat, which means I have access (albeit not quite access that is on the up and up) to a golf course which affords exceptional walking opportunities. The surrounding landscape is all done up in a style know as Jarring Modern Gulf Contrasts.

My morning walk begins here, at our fairly modest little university which is playing host to the program. Yup, that is the whole university right there.

 

Wandering down to the golf course, I can start to see that dry, dusty, and natural snuggle up closely with green, grassy, and artificial--let's call this shade of green "grey water lush", because where do you think the water comes from to make this so green?

Desert spiny rubs elbows with soft and colorful. These two photos were taken in the back of a house that sits on the golf course...

While this one was taken in the same house's deep green front garden. Grey water magic.

The sanitary, clean, well-spaced lines of pricey housing abut tumbled construction sites and large earth moving vehicles, which are often parked within spitting distance of fancy pants cars.

What golf course would be complete without a dangerous wadi and a sign depicting a hapless stick man about to plunge to his death. Poor guy. 

The stereotypical palm tree! How could I be so negligent and leave that out? It is date season here and I had dozens to choose for a photo op. This one was especially photogenic.







Gulf contrasts--there are thousands of them here, but on an early morning walk, these are the only ones you will see. Stay tuned for more inshallah.

Do You Remember...

Dear Three,

Sometimes, small children, you leave a place and never remember what you left behind. However, if you are lucky enough to return to that place, sometimes you are also fortunate enough to get a glimpse of the things you thought you had forgotten.

Today’s blog post is dedicated to all the little things that you thought you had forgotten…or perhaps that you never even realized you had noticed when you lived here.

When we left England this morning, here was the last sign we saw outside our gate as we boarded. 

Touching, right?

Okay, perhaps you don’t remember that particular sign, but I will bet that you remember this one, and I would also bet that you were missing that prayer room/toilet combination that is ubiquitous here.

And speaking of toilets, how about that butt sprayer. I know Silas misses that one. A lot.

And do you remember the feeling of elation you get when the driver picks you up from the airport in his brand new, leather-interior Mercedes?

Yeah, I didn’t really remember that leather-interior part either, but I certainly appreciated arriving at the airport to find the driver waiting, sign in hand.

Here is the school where we are staying. 

Since the sun sets here at around 6:30 p.m., by the time we got to the school at 7 p.m., it was dark, but this was our first view of it of the summer. I bet you have been missing the early sunsets of the Gulf but not missing the muggy, swimming-through-air feeling you get day and night during July and August, when the temperatures seem never to dip below 85 degrees, even at night.

Here is a sound that I had forgotten—had you?

 Yup, the guilty sound of exceeding the 120 km/hour speed limit.

We had to stop to fuel the car. Do you remember the Maha men who drag themselves through the heat to fuel fill the tank any time you tootle up? 

And the smell of gasoline that escapes and fills the car during fueling since there is no cover between the pump and the open gas tank? Ah memories.

The last stop of the evening was at one of your faves. I tried to also get a shot of the Christmas light-wrapped palm trees but I was too far away.

  

And I saved this one for last since it will probably make Tian cry. We ate the whole thing for dinner. Sorry.

Until next time,

Yo Mama

A Note to the Children: Travel Fails Happen for the Better

Dear Children Three,

Remember this: London is REALLY big. However, if you fly into Heathrow and then find yourself staying on this barge west of the airport:

even the area know as Greater London is not big enough to include you or allow you to use London's public transport system. Travel fail one.

And so what was meant to be a day enjoying urban London became one of enjoying, well, NOT urban London...not even Greater London.




So, in lieu of the capital we endeavored to see Windsor Castle instead. But see Queen Victoria here in front of Windsor Castle?



I reckon she is the only one who can afford admittance (she and the busloads of Chinese tourists...they made an impressive showing today). Travel fail two--budget bust.



As Windsor and our budget simply did not see eye to eye, we set out to find the more affordable side of the city.

We found the Parish...totally affordable and full of shiny stuff, an organ, and a painting of the Last Supper.

 .

Moving on, we headed across the Thames. We found geese!



Wild views of the castle. 

                                                 





                                                      Blackberries










And the Thames Path which stretches from the source of the river to a point some 150 miles away.

And along the Thames Path we found SWIMMING! Okay, I found swimming. Daddy participated as a passive observer and dedicated bank sitter. He did a fine job.

In spite of the initial travel fails, all ended well. 

And Tian, something to keep in mind...if your medical school plans don't work out, perhaps you could find yourself a job as an under-bridge muralist. These appeared along the trail under an old rail bridge:

:-) Yo Mama