First, no one knows what a groundhog is. And it's not an easy thing to describe- basically, people either thought it was a mole or a small bear- I even looked up the Turkish word for groundhog, to facilitate the explanation of our bizarre traditions. It's dağsıçanı, by the way, which basically means marmot. And no one has any idea what a marmot is regardless- so that was useless. "Badger," "woodchuck," and even "beaver" also didn't translate. Second, they assume that the must be misunderstanding you. "Wait, its shadow? What does its shadow have to do with seasons?" - that sort of thing. And then once they realize that they understand you, they just think you're nuts. After all, what kind of a person listens to a small rodent's predictions of the future? Moreover, what kind of a country makes a holiday dedicated to paying attention to said rodent?
So this morning Alex and I discovered we were curriculum-less. Apparently someone forgot to post it online, so we had to make it up- and in honor of groundhog's day, we made it purely absurd. We made up a list of words, mostly based on classic, nonsensical Americana, and they had to use 10 or so of the list of 15 in a story. Words and phrases like "canyon," "coonskin cap," "tornado," "cherry tree," mixed in with adjectives like "itchy" and "flamboyant." Despite how much fun we had coming up with the list, the kids despised the idea. You'd think I suggested mass in-class root canals. Groans, complaints, trying to avoid the assignment... weasels, all of them. So in my first class, I pretty much forced them to do it. A group of a few (bright, hardworking) girls gave me serious puppydog eyes- "Is there another activity after this? Pleeeeease?" Of course, I hadn't planned on anything else. But I promised to see if I could think of something.
Some quotes from their stories (bolded words were from my list):
"A pink kangaroo in Australia with her baby in her pouch. It was itchy."
"Three animals were living together in the wild: a groundhog, a kangaroo, and a coonskin cap."
"A groundhog fell in love with a flamboyant raccoon with pink plastic accessories in her hair."
Flash to 20 minutes later. Remember, I started the class by explaining that Americans get their weather from moles (which was the closest animal they could come up with). Then stories involving wooden teeth and glaciers. Then I dragged them out of their desks and we played "Dilly Dally Duck." You know, the summer camp game for ages 4-10. "Theeeeee Dilly Dally Duck goes "Quack quack quack" round San Arina rinarinarina...." etc.
Pretty sure they're now convinced I'm a lunatic. But they played along, which was great, and they were all very competitive once they got the hang of it. I was continually the only one singing the song, over and over and over again, and I think everyone is familiar with my lack of singing abilities- but whatever. I had fun. Afterwards, one of the students came up to me.
"So, in America, adults play this game?"
"Umm... No." I paused. "Children."
"But, we are not children!" he protested.
"True. Adults like to write stories. So next time, like adults, we'll just write lots of stories. Okay?" I smiled innocently.
"Uh, okay okay. Forget it," he mumbled.
Success.
On a more somber note, Jude (the bunny) died on Saturday. He had had some strange sores on his mouth and stomach that we noticed the first night we got him, and Alex and I considered taking him to a vet. But over the next few days, the sores visibly improved, so I figured he would be fine. Then he went into convulsions and died slowly in my hands (he was very small) five days after we brought him home. It was rough. Alex and I cleaned everything up, threw everything out, and headed to the mall to drown our sorrows in big macs, followed by chocolate (strawberry fondue) and coffee from our favorite cafe, and the only English movie playing- Valkyrie. We then made a long list of things that are American that are awesome. The light bulb, motion pictures, microwave dinners. It effectively soothed our rage at this country for selling us a dying bunny and various smaller crimes.
Sunday we attended mass at the Vatican Embassy (Vatikan Elçilik), which was a really cool experience. A simple building, with people from all over the world- Angola, Mozambique, Burundi, various Asian countries. The regular priest, Father Oliver, is leaving for a month to teach theology in Lebanon. The interm priest is an expert on interfaith (Christian-Muslim) relations, which I plan to take full advantage of. There's also a youth group that meets bimonthly, twenty or so early 20somethings, mostly of African origin. Really friendly and welcoming. Alex and I also talked with a woman organizing a pilgrimage sometime in March to Antioch and several other places, which we hope to go on. In case that's not enough, she also works with Iraqi refugees once a month, and invited us to help out.
Only other news: Despite being told that a Moldovan girl was coming to live with us, and then not coming, and then told that a boy came and was living elsewhere, and we had the apartment to ourselves for the remainder of our time here.... we were recently informed that an adult (40something) Moldovan woman is coming to live with us sometime this week and staying for eight weeks. So I had to move all of my stuff out of my room and into Alex's, so this woman could have her own room. Really frustrating, especially since I already put a lot of effort into choosing that room, decorating it, and just generally making it feel homey.
Bah.
This post is brought to you by the word "Çekoslovakyalılaştıramadıklarımızdanmıymışsınız?"
Meaning, in Turkish, "Aren't you one of those people whom we tried unsuccessfully to make represented as the citizens of czech republic? "
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