Today I took eight of my students on the public bus to Wal-Mart to give them a chance to use some of the new grammar we've been learning. Each month we get to do something like this, as part of the curriculum. It's great; one chance to do teaching the way I would like to- fun, real-life stuff.
So after attendance this morning, we headed out to the bus stop. All the students got to ride free with their ID cards. I, being merely a teacher, got to pay my own way. Whatever.
We arrived at Wally World and I gave the run down: do this; don't do that; be back here for the next bus at 9:20 sharp. DON'T be late; we WILL leave you. :) Have fun! We went our separate ways.
I sat in the entryway for about 10 minutes, finishing some grading I had brought along. About every five minutes, an obnoxious recording of "Bob the Builder" would go off in one of the games behind me. I headed into the store to pick up a couple things I needed, and checked out just in time to get to the meeting place a few minutes early.
As I walked out of the store, I saw a bus pulling away from the parking area. I had a moment of panic, but then thought, "Nah, that can't be our bus. It's five minutes early!" As the bus turned, I could see the number on the back. 7. Our bus.
I looked over at the bench by the stop. Two of my eight students were there. No good running for it. I couldn't leave 6 students behind. I closed my eyes and took a breath. The next bus comes in 30 minutes. That will put us back at school about 20 minutes after my next class starts. Less than ideal.
I stroll slowly over to where my two students are calmly chatting, oblivious to the fact that their bus just took off. "Hey guys," I said.
"Teacher, we are on time!" one student replied proudly. He and I had a Come to Jesus talk last week about his consistent tardiness.
"Yeah!" I replied. "In fact, you're early! It's not even 9:20 yet. Did you see the bus leave?"
"Is that our bus??"
"Um, yes. It came early. We missed it."
The students looked at each other. I could see the gleam of recognition. I might have a bit of a situation on my hands, but they've gotten a Get Out of Jail Free card; they're going to miss some class without any penalty. I dig out my cell phone and call my boss.
No answer. I call his boss. No answer. I call the general office phone, mentally demanding that someone answer. I don't have any other numbers. More students filter out of the store, and get filled in on the exciting developments by their classmates. Someone answers the phone.
Happily, my uber-gracious co-worker offers to babysit my computer lab (my next class) until I show up. In other good news, my current students are also in the lab, so they're not going to be late for another teacher. And so. Twenty-five minutes until the next bus. I explain the situation to the students.
"Teacher, I say this morning I should drive. It is better. Next time, I will drive for us."
"Miss Foster, can we get something to eat?"
"Teacher, let's walk back." (yes, that should only take an hour or so)
"Teacher, school finished today. We are go home."
I gave them 15 minutes to get food, giving them a firm reminder that I will leave them this time, even if I'm the only one on the bus back. They chuckle and disperse again. A few stay at the bench with me. Before long the smart phones and iPods have appeared as if by magic. Soon someone's playing an Arabic song that everyone (except me) knows. It's a pop tune, catchy.
Sometimes life seems really surreal. Usually when this happens for me, I'm overseas. I'm eating jellyfish tentacles. On accident. Or looking at the ruins of the Colosseum, trying to wrap my mind around the fact that it was around at the same time as Paul. I'm hiking up a mountain, getting a picture next to a pillar that marks a place that's higher than anywhere in the continental US. Or sweating through a church dedication ceremony in the middle of nowhere. But today I had one of those moments in DeKalb, IL.
As I sat on a bench outside of Wal-Mart with six Saudi men, listening to them sing along to an Arabic pop song, I thought about how life is funny. Not always good. Not always bad. But rarely boring.
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