If I Had A Hammer

School officially started on the 12th, the same day that we in the Gorgol voted absentee style in the coming presidential election. I hope that my vote is more productive than the first day of school.

On the first day of school I got up early made myself pretty all "guy with the tie" lookin' and moseyed over to the lycee. I arrived as expected before many people but not first. I get there shake hands speak some bad-yet developing French and meet some people and left about an hour and a half later. The first day is really the first day they start planning the new year. I was able to tell the man who would make my schedule I would be available for 4 - 6 hours a week and was told to come back next week. I dropped by almost every day and went to the DREN a similar number of days to do the same thing. (Director Regional of Education National) {it's a bad French translation, can you dig it?}

The next Sunday, I show up same deal as before a shirt and tie and all that jazz. The guy with the schedule showed up about 2-3 hours after I left. So, Monday I get my schedule I have two classes a week one that day. I enter an empty class stand there, check out my new chalk courtesy of a heartfelt care package by writing my name on the board, "Mr. Sisco". It felt good to wear that hat again. One kid shows up to see the American teacher, he is not my student but we talk for a few minutes. This story ends with me finding two kids that are supposed to be in my class standing around talking to their friends. I pretend to be mad at them (Don't smile till after December) and instruct them to be actually in class and on time next week, in'shalla.