Yay Kids!

Hey all,

So last week I went to a job interview for a company started last September that teaches infants and toddlers English! I was skeptical at first, but after speaking with the impressively sane couple of people that work there, I was convinced that teaching children a language at a very young age is genius.

Today, I sat in on a 45-minute class for 5-7 year olds; these are kids that have been at school from 8:00am until 5:00pm and they come to this 'workshop' to pick up another language. Naturally, they were a bit pooped; but things picked up with the energy of the teacher, and soon they were hopping around, singing songs, and smiling modest French smiles.

It was a lot of fun: I teach chess at a summer camp, and I tend to put a lot of pressure on myself and the kids, stressing myself and the kids out, and we're all exhausted by the time we're done. This hands-on, fun approach to teaching kids was refreshing and productive; the kids not only seemed to have a better time, they picked things up really quickly and seemed to have retained a lot from previous lessons.

Made me happy to see these adorable little French boys and girls - it's always interesting to see cultural differences at such a young age. And of course, even though I was doing my part as a passive observer ('fly on the wall'), I was totally the epicenter of distraction, an exotic American with a funny smile and furry hands, the kids staring at me with big curious eyes as their fully capable (and patient!) teacher did her best to keep their eyes on the prize.

At the end of the 45 minutes, the parents came to pick their kids up. I was introduced, and the parents proceeded to speak to me in French. I looked to the teacher for direction, not knowing if I should show the kids that I can speak French! My friend, Victor, has had problems getting his kids in Madrid to speak English with him now that he's blown his (beautifully fluent) Spanish-speaking cover. The teacher assured me that it was fine, and following a bit of coaxing, I responded to the parent's questions, garnering even more attention from the bewildered little kids. Pretty cute.

On my bike ride home (I live in a beautiful area, and the language school is merely a 10-minute bike ride away), I got to see the Basilique Saint-Seurin at dusk, just before sunset. I stopped my pedaling on the timeworn cobbled street to gaze at an impressive cherry tree placed in the courtyard of an equally beautiful chapel. The orange-golden sun brushed softly past the old sand-colored stones of the chapel, bringing out the deep lagoon positioned in the middle: a circular window that could have easily been from the 18th century. This provincial image was made unique by the pale beauty of the fully blossomed cherry tree, bursting with the most delicate purity of color one could imagine, scattering its elegance across the ground until the streets were dotted with precious pink petals, the once profane gutters purified by a thin stream of flowers.

Though I'm not feeling great (have a bit of a sore throat), this evening certainly lightened my spirits, which weren't all that heavy in the first place.

For those of you (all of you?) waiting on my Morocco post, rest assured that I have it started. My own thorough, perfectionist nature works against me at times, however, and the post may take time.

All the best,
Ben