How do you like it?

I've finally begun teaching, fifteen hours a week, and I've made a discovery. There is absolutely nothing funnier than a big white girl who's lost her temper.

My students came to class calling me "Vazaha" or white person, and I flew into a rage. I'm the teacher! Who do these brats think they are dismissing me with a name like that?! I completely lost it, asking kids, "What if I call you black girl, black boy? How do you like it? Huh? Huh?" They ate it up.

My school has a Surveillant system, which means there are three men who do nothing but punish students who have misbehaved. As far as I know, they don't beat anyone, at least not when I'm around. When I have kids acting up, I'm supposed to tell them to go to the surveillant. But they won't. They stand and laugh at me unless I physically drag them out of class and then push them into the surveillant's office, the same way I'd do away with a garbage bag. But they love it! When someone gets taken out of class students start to applaud. Even some of the construction workers building new rooms at my school love to see me pull a kid out of class. I'm bigger than most Malagasy people, so it's not hard to do. Unfortunately, it doesn't make anyone behave and now everyone comes up to me and says "Vazaha!" just to see how mad I'll get.

After two days of class I was bawling in a nearby bar owned by my Malagasy friends Papa Lyons and his wife, Bridgitte. They let me cry into a beer, vent and gave me some empathy. I went back to class with no lesson plan, only some punishment. The students recited "My teacher is called Mme" 150 times. Then they wrote it 150 times. Then I made them stand up and thank me for their punishment. I had no idea I could be this mean. And none of it made me feel any better.

I talked with other volunteers and my dad, a former teacher who worked with prisoners, and everyone told me to calm down. "It's a form of entertainment to piss you off," my friend Mary said. "You're just going to have to endure being called a Vazaha." Instead of getting mad, they reccomended I focus on rewarding kids who behave and respect the classroom. One idea my father had was giving out a small piece of candy to each student IF the class behaves as a whole. If a few students ruin it, no one gets anything. Then they'll monitor one another and I can get through the lesson.

The past week has felt like nothing but escaping from people who want to see me miserable. I have friends in Maevatanana and I spend as much time with them as I can, but I'm surrounded by people I want nothing to do with. Unfortunately, right now my students fall into that category.

So, I have some new tactics, I've talked with neighbors, friends and volunteers about what I can do to make things better and I'm going to change my approach. As one volunteer said, "the best definition of insanity is: doing the same thing-over and over and over, but expecting different results." Here's hoping I can stay sane.