Eighth Grade Adventures

I still haven't worked out a way for eighth grade to not be a complete mess. I have one superstar student, one quite competent student, and ten terrifyingly indifferent students. This year it seems I'm catering to the superstar, trying to involve the competent guy, and trying to keep the rest of them quiet.

My partner teacher administered one of my apparently difficult tests yesterday. Upon correcting them, it was abundantly clear that the cheating was rampant. I convinced her to confront them about it, particularly one student who can't manage a simple 'hello' who somehow managed a 6. When we did so, he stated that he copied five or six answers from his neighbor but that he had luckily guessed on the rest. I was skeptical, but my partner teacher began negotiating with him, offering 3's and 4's. I was too baffled to object. Are we seriously negotiating with someone who thinks that copying five or six answers is not only acceptable but admirable?

Needless to say, it took a while for the class to settle after the controversy. Some students asked me whether I buy my clothes secondhand and giggled. I guess it was supposed to be an insult, but I'm too oblivious to such standards to register it as such. It does bother me more than it should how much my students think about what I'm wearing, but I generally detest people who concern themselves with the clothes of others.

When I asked my superstar student to stop talking, she responded that the other students were talking, but she was conversing. It was hard to argue with that.

We inadvertently landed on a somewhat interesting conversation that I did my best to facilitate in English. It began when I told them that I do, in fact, like Bulgaria. They all clamored to tell me about how they don't. I tried to guide them toward a conversation about what they don't like about Bulgaria with moderate success. I wanted to demonstrate that there is a difference between not liking certain things about Bulgaria and not liking Bulgaria itself. The conclusion was somewhat marred by the fact that the student I consider competent needed to ask how to say лошо in English. Armed with that word, however, he managed to state things quite succinctly: "Politics are bad."

Running Through Enlightenment

The first question I've been asked by 90% of the people in my village when I told them that I had just wrote a marathon: What place did you come in? When I respond that I came in over two hours after the winner, I've fairly often been laughed at. It bugs me. Obviously it's not why I ran, but like most people who have run their first marathon, I want others to be impressed. I'm at least that shallow. They can think I'm weird too. That makes sense. But I want them to be impressed AND perplexed. Not just perplexed.

Anyway, I ran my first boar's head since the marathon today. It turns out that the legs have not quite healed. My knees and left foot are angry with me now.

Meanwhile I've begun reading Born to Run, a piece of non-fiction by Christopher McDougall about running superhumans. Considering that it came out in May this year and it's already on at least its 12th printing, there's a good chance you've read it too. The book, which I haven't finished yet, is simultaneously inspiring and crushing, although vastly more the former. Reading about people who do things on a scale so hugely beyond the marathon that I considered so badass is humbling and we should all be humbled from time to time.

More striking to me, however, is the way in which it confirms what I've often suspected and pontificated about sports, namely that success comes from taking joy in what you're doing. I've often railed against people who are running "to get in shape" or "to lose weight." I know this is unfair coming from me, but I really think that these motivations won't get you anywhere. Maybe this makes me an asshole. But it is my belief that if these are the reasons you're running or going to the gym or whatever, you are doomed to failure. When it comes down to it, these are not good enough reasons in that they will never incite you to get yourself past a certain point. I have rarely achieved that necessary joyous state in distance running, although it's possible that I'm cultivating such a love. For me, tennis and ultimate have brought me to that state where I will push myself beyond the level that makes any sense and enjoy every second of it. As Ken Chlouber, founder of the absolutely ridiculous Leadville Trail 100 (i.e. 100 miles, at altitude), says, "Make friends with pain, and you will never be alone." All we can do is search for something that makes us love the pain that comes with it. I'm pretty sure that everyone can find something that makes them feel this way.

Today, despite the pain in my legs, I could just barely sense such a feeling in distance running. The time that has passed since the marathon has given me some perspective. I was no distance runner at the time and I still am not, but I could get there, I think. It was the perfect warm fall day and I crashed through my trail; the fallen leaves, the hills, and not an apartment building in sight. At approximately the halfway point, I conquer the hill that once crushed my spirit. Directly ahead of me, the path drops down into the valley of the rain festivals, where there are usually five or six grazing horses. To my right is the Big Little itself, looking like everything I ever wanted in a village. To my left are the rolling hills of Northern Bulgaria, alternating between the fields and the forest. I take in a deep breath of the famous чист въздух, which today is uncorrupted by burning trash. It's perfect and may be what I will miss most when I'm back in the States. I don't know if that's sad. From there, I run back down the hill and into the woods. Trail-running. That could be the ticket for me. Even though my knees were killing me and I couldn't manage my standard run in its entirety, the scent of the autumn day made me think that distance running may be a part of my future and a part of me getting somewhere.

Remember That Time We Took a Walk in the Big Little?

Based on the Classics Illustrated Version, I Suppose

I started watching the American version of War & Peace. I've yet to make my way through it, but I was impressed with how quickly it became clear that the director of the film had not, in fact, read the book. It takes about 10 seconds, actually. Lo and behold the first SENTENCE in the film:

"As the 19th century began, a darkening shadow moved across the face of Europe. This shadow was propelled by one man: Napoleon Bonaparte."

One man? One man?!!? If anyone could make it through War & Peace and miss Tolstoy's refutation of that very premise, his skull would have to be thicker than the novel itself.

That's the Ticket

Due to a particularly fitful and annoying cough that has been keeping me up all night lately, I called in sick for the first time during my time in the Big Little. It's a little absurd because, as you know, I live in the school. Most of the teachers and the school babas stopped by with advice, home remedies, or milk. Sevi, however, came by after school today with a whole banitsa, a salad, a pound of frozen beef, a bag of apples, and a bottle of rakia. Clearly I've been missing out by staying healthy for so long.

What is Lost Must Never Be Forgotten

Be sure to tune in to http://www.itwaslost.org during your time on the interwebs. The team of S. Sandrigon, Grainne Proinseas, Olaf Mary Mohammad, Cosmo Wernicky, Mr. Brains Aha!, Tomorrow Jenny Ruth, and myself endeavor to bring you the finest and most diverse of daily blogging activity. Among the latest itwaslost projects is a double feature of serialized novels. Check out my first three chapters:

http://www.itwaslost.org/2009/10/hunters.html

http://www.itwaslost.org/2009/11/hunters-chapter-2.html

http://www.itwaslost.org/2009/11/hunters-chapter-3.html

And don't neglect the competition. Grainne Proinseas brings you Ally Given.

http://www.itwaslost.org/2009/10/ally-given.html

http://www.itwaslost.org/2009/11/ally-given-installment-2.html

http://www.itwaslost.org/2009/11/ally-given-installment-3.html

Follow itwaslost in your Google Reader and don't feel lost around the weird coffee pod machine on Monday. New chapters every week or faster.

Halloween 2: 3 Weeks Late

Just before the swine flu vacation hit us, the Big Little celebrated a sickly Halloween. As with most things that I try to organize, it all seemed haphazard and chaotic, but sometimes the enthusiasm of children will actually carry you through. The oncoming epidemic shortened and changed many of our activities.
For some reason, my kids are crazy about bobbing for apples, something I have never understood. However, because many kids dumping their faces in a barrel of water is basically designed for the spread of swine flu, we were forced to improvise a little.
The pumpkin winner...
She said she was dressed up as "The Red Spot." I can't figure out if I'm missing a reference or if it's more of an artistic thing... This was my favorite costume...
But this one won by the student applause-o-meter by a landslide...