These little things were rather odd occurrences. Take for example the black Labrador that casually walked into my classroom. While the class exploded into laughter and terrifying shrieks, the dog, Mr. Reid, and I were in our own little world of trying, as quietly and as quickly as possible, to get one of us out of the fire exit. Never once did Mr. Lab flinch or blink an eye, yet Simon and I were nervous wrecks considering all of the possible things that could go wrong when combing a group of 8th graders and a meandering dog. In that moment I felt like a teacher.
I also had the little thing of encountering NEDs for the first time. These "non-educated delinquents" with their hoodies and track pants and trainers and their truancy had been described to me by my students, but they were still something I had yet to experience. On Thursday, however, I got my chance when one of them threw a branch at my fire exit door. After jumping clear out of my chair, I went to the door, and on instinct - and perhaps out of stupidity - opened it to see the three little NEDs running to the bus stop. Something kicked in. I immediately marched up to the bus stop and asked why they had thrown something at my door. What had I ever done to them? After much yelling and cursing (and not on my part, I might add), I ended up with an apology...and a second branch at my door...and a lovely shot of the bird, as they rode off down the street in the bus. However, in that moment, I felt like I was back!
On Friday night, the English and Maths departments had dinner out. It was wonderful seeing everyone outside of school, and I realized how grateful I am for these teachers from Oldie. They have welcomed me and embraced me. They have realized when I needed a good distraction from students or from thoughts of home. Over that evening, I felt like a friend.
Tuesday afternoon my brother, Kevin, arrived in Aberdeen. We spent the evening out with new friends Jenn and Jane, met up with Simon for drinks on Wednesday, and had dinner with Peadar (my principal teacher) and his family that night. After venturing over to "my" local pub - The Queen Vic - for some pints with Andy, a friend of my exchange partner Gill's, we were walking home when it happened. The one moment when all of these little experiences converged and I realized that I have made it. I belong. It was sudden, and it found me unaware...I, Kelli Davis, was stopped for directions!
Yes, that's right. Directions. When I realized that this man had stopped me because he assumed I would know my way about, and that I was able to answer, I knew that I had arrived. In that moment, I felt like I was home.
So, in response to the question - that I have actually heard in casual conversation here in the northeast - "Foos yer doos?" I'd have to say, "Aye, peckin."
