Welcome to “Scratch,” Part III

You knew there had to be a “Part III” in the saga of “Scratch,” didn’t you? I mean, coming out of the Summer of 2007 at the movie multiplex with the six-pack of three-quels (do you need to be reminded of Spiderman 3, Shrek 3, Pirates of the Caribbean, Ocean’s 13, The Bourne Ultimatum, and Rush Hour 3???) I just had to try and compete with those bloated movies of Better Explosions! More Special Effects! More Villains!

The summer of the movie three-quel is behind us, but I couldn’t resist trying my hand at a Part III of my own…(frankly, I had the phrase “six-pack of three-quels” on my mind and couldn’t think of any other way to use it!)

As I have described in great detail in Parts I and II, much of “Scratch” has been goading and engaging and coaxing and limping and smiling and helping and inspiring and pleading and bribing my students across a finish line of a quiz—let’s remember that in Parts III of a saga, one needs to do a little introspection, introduce a new element or two, perhaps see some of ourselves in our students, and as the King always said in The King and I: et ce-te-ra, et ce-te-ra, et ce-te-ra!

Last week in Arabic class I constructed and uttered a 12-word sentence in Arabic!

Cause for celebration? Amazement? Stupor? Lame Humor?

I should disclose what the sentence was, as well, in case you think I am polishing my Arabic for the Op-Ed page in the Jordan Times. Here is my magnificent sentence:

“Omar comes from Cairo, Egypt, and I come from New York, in America.”

Aren’t you all just beaming with pride?!

In a somewhat related story, I had an exchange this morning that is perfect for Part III of Scratch. I went with my friend Sam, a KA driver, to get anti-malarial pills in Amman (I will tell you why in a blog entry on the cyber-stands tomorrow, folks!). I had practiced how to ask for them in Arabic, but in the clutch, I choked and turned to Sam to handle the request for these pills for me. Sam had no problem commanding the transaction. The doctor was polite enough to me, but as we left, he said, “Why aren’t you speaking in Arabic? You’ve been here 10 weeks!” I demurred—feebly offering, “Well, I practiced the request in Arabic, and I am working on it, but I worried that I might ask for “stupid” pills or “toilet” pills or some other ridiculous word, and I wanted precision and accuracy in getting these pills. But next time—In Shallah—all Arabic! Shuk run!”

As I have said many times as I faced my class, watching them struggle, “Welcome to Scratch!”

We all have our version/level of Scratch.

Two months ago I wrote how in my introduction to the Arab world I have so often identified with my adorable nephew, Jack. I said the “adorable” part not that I see myself as so adorable—I meant, to me, he is adorable. At 40+ I am not sure if my struggles are quite so adorable!

Since Jack started Kindergarten in late August he has struggled with remembering that he has milk money every day at school. My sister and I have talked often about the never-ending trauma over but I didn’t know I had milk money, Mommy! I forgot! That is Jack’s battle right now, and well, of course, my sister, trying to outsmart, outplan, out-something her adorable five-year old son, and allow him the revelation that he does indeed have this money (everyday!) with which he can purchase milk.

Oh yes, I relate to my nephew’s trials and tribulations!

On another note—a tangent, you may think, but don’t forget in any strong installment of a Part III, you need a “Special Guest Star” to invigorate the franchise—I had a guest in class yesterday. I got a call about 9:00 from our headmaster asking if a guest could attend my 10:55 class. I told him guests are welcome any time. He said, “The guest is the nanny of the Crown Prince.”

Okay—it is kind of exciting to have that kind of guest in class. His Majesty wanted the Crown Prince’s nanny to get an idea what classes are like here (this son will arrive next year on campus!) and so the headmaster chose his wife’s class and my class for the visit.

This particular class had already hosted two other visitors (none actually royal playpen-related), and they liked showing off their knowledge to whomever joined our class, and they did not know this guest’s workplace, yet they offered a lively class comparing aspects of Sumerian civilization with Egyptian civilization. Later, the headmaster said that she enjoyed the “vibrant” class. Not bad for Part III of Scratch.

(You will notice that I have made an aesthetic decision now in writing the over-used word Scratch—I have removed the quotation marks finally. I think in any on-going franchise one has to make these creative and editorial and progressive changes to maintain interest…)

While some audience members hope that a Part III is the last of an on-going series, the movie exhibitors always look for fresh angles to keep the storyline, and the characters alive (and their cash registers zinging with business).

I have something fresh too!

Last week, while KA took two entire school days to offer an in-depth “Study Skills Seminar” for our young scholars, there was a piece about our school published in the Sunday Times in London. The writer begins the article in a way that is sadly so typical of any article about the Middle East—the palpable tension at trying to cross a border, and the gripping fears that our youth in this region may not live to comb their hair gray.

But after such an opening, the writer says he is on his way “to attend the opening of a new school in Jordan—an initiative that may plant some small shoot of hope in this troubled region.”

Yes, it is a puff piece—he discusses the library with its shelves “rapidly filling with books,” and how economically diverse the student body is.

While I enjoyed the article, the part that makes my palms sweat, and gives me such excitement is the line, “Nobody can predict where these courageous students will attend University. . . .but what could be more important in the Middle East than educating open-minded future leaders?”

It is exciting. It is unpredictable.

This week a writer from Time magazine is coming to write a piece about our Scratch.

Maybe I will be asked to show off with a 15 word Arabic sentence?

Maybe Jack will find that milk money?

Oh, Part III is definitely not the end of this saga…