Friday, I taught the worst class of my life. I hope. No, I’m pretty sure that nothing could top those 90 minutes. First, my arrival, 5 minutes late, followed by explaining to the guffawing faces that for the next 10 minutes, while I finished making photocopies, they should finish their homework, or talk to their neighbor, or erg. I ran out, sacar-ed my photocopias, then came back an explosion. “Shush!” I yelled, commanding as much authority as a disabled flea, then begged them to take their seats. A couple of them did. The rest yelled out “RUINAS!! RUINAS!!” Going down to the Mayan ruins, which also serves as a soccer field and not so secret make out spot, is what every class wants to do. I usually give in, because lets face it, I also
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