December 29

Turkish people have tried to make Christmas a part of their own tradition. However, instead of opening up and making space for it on December 24th and 25th, they have instead dumped it onto New Year's Eve and New Year's Day. They put up "Christmas" trees with lights and ornaments, buy presents and even tell their children that Santa Claus (aka Noel Baba) will visit them. He doesn't come until the New Year though, but I guess he appreciates this as Turkey is one less stop he has to make on an already full night December 24th.

Today is December 29th, and we had our New Year's/Imitation Christmas celebration at school. I walked to school this morning, and it was the first time in a long time (since my MRI on my knee) that I took that thirty minute seaside stroll. The weather in Antalya during the day remains calm and sunny with a chill in the air. The chill isn't biting or intruding, rather it spreads itself out evenly around you and lets you breeze on through as if you were a part of it.

I had a very strong feeling that this day was a start to something new. It somehow seemed fresh and more alive, and in turn it made me feel the same.

Since last week we have been short-staffed at work, and it has not been easy. I have bordered on losing my temper with both children and bosses on more than one occasion. Short-staffed, no assistant, trying to put together a New Year's party, a presentable art project for the children to take home to their parents, end of the month newsletters and lesson plans, and little to no break time all day. This has made for a very ugly few days.

Yet today some light, Liz would be back and therefore the responsibility, the running around, the yelling, could all be divided up that much more equally. Relief.

The school day began. We sang Christmas songs. The creepy clown performed his set of incredibly immature magic acts that the children eat up and swallow whole. Noel Baba came and gave out presents (that the parents had bought beforehand, wrapped and delivered to school). My class went upstairs, and there I was with twelve greedy three and four year old little ones with their packages, "Stephanie, can you open this? Stephanie, open this one! Stephanie, Stephanie, Stephanie," until I finally decided on a legal name change as the solution.

This is the first time since I became a teacher that I've started to be at the end of my nerves, possibly even dislike my job. Perhaps it's not only that the children are too rich and too spoiled, that the bosses are greedy, or that parent's satisfaction no matter how it comes is the number 1 aim (who can blame them, I guess... this is after all, a business, not just a school), or that there is a lack of support for teachers unless you remind them of the need for assistance a few times every day. Perhaps there is, just as I felt this morning, a change and a new start sweeping through the air. Perhaps I might pick up my magic carpet and hop on for the ride to who knows where.