Thunderstorms

For those of you who wonder, that's not the principal or a teacher who happened to walk past when I snapped the photo; it's the statue of the founder of the school, the illustrious philantropist Tan Kah Kee.

I also apologise for the lack of variety in the subjects of my recent photos. I realise that the orbit of my daily life, though much improved from the same point jut four months ago, is not really very wide or inclusive, and the most interesting thing that I tend to pass on a daily basis is the clock tower in school. And it's just interesting, whenever you walk past, to just look up at the tower and see how its structure interacts with the unobstructed sky behind it. Contrasts and patterns; those are what I look for.

Lately, it has been raining a lot over here. Real thunderstorms, awe-inspiring deluges that efface the visible world in one fell stroke while filling the acoustic world to overflowing. Such power that can drive people into shelter, that can make one shiver and dream of jackets in the middle of the tropics. I've always liked thunderstorms; one of my earliest memories was a storm so long and powerful that it turned the sky a most vivid and never-again-repeated shade of purple for a whole afternoon. And these recent thunderstorms have helped to keep things in perspective - to show that, despite every tedious thing that may happen in the course of the day, there are powers that exist that render your problems negligible. This is a sign that nothing is insurmountable, and it is heartening in this way.

Anyway, the saga continues today, but now, time, which had been pressing ominously on us to finish the re-marking as soon as possible, has defected to our side to render it impossible to reject this final set of marks that we have decided upon, because the term reports have to be printed, and there is no time left. It will be a relief to dump this into the trash-bin of unsavoury experiences, so that I can get back to the business of teaching again. Because, after all, wasn't that what I was hired to do? Spent the rest of today planning lessons for next week, trying to put an interesting spin on the very technical topic of how to write for a newspaper. Thinking of using Clooney's Good Night, and Good Luck and Redford's Lions for Lambs to discuss journalistic ethics. That topic isn't actually in the syllabus per se, but I think I will sneak it in anyway, otherwise I'll be too bored reviewing headlines and lead paragraphs.

Lunch and coffee after school yesterday was a lifesaver. Over the always-delightful sight of steaming bowls of soup and stacks of freshly cut bread at Cedèle, we chatted about school politics and US politics, about personalities and philosophies. My daily circle may not be very wide, but I am glad that it includes, at least, these familiar things and familiar people from a fondly remembered time. If the Army was a two-year departure from the normal trajectory of my life, then this is a long, slow return to something like a pre-Army state, when days could end at 1.30pm, lunches could stretch at leisure into the evenings, and minds could ramble and roam across any and all intellectual and experiential territories.

Had a pretty dense philosophical-theological discussion with one of my kids yesterday, on the nature of the afterlife and whether God's merciful nature applies to all people or is exclusively reserved for Christians. It impresses me, his ability to hold an argument of this kind, and the clarity of thought that allows him to handle complex arguments with a deftness and adeptness that I am sure I did not possess when I was his age (which was really a very long time ago...). And this is but one of the kids who make this teaching stint worthwhile. By May 10th, I will have taught in one way or another close to a hundred students, and all have enriched my experience in their own distinct and worthy ways. This is why this job is a real privilege.

And communications from overseas coming in also. The lives of my peers who are elsewhere at the moment are filled and bustling with busy schedules, and opportunities for us to communicate are rare. But I am glad when they do happen, and we can exchange some ideas in the old mode of conversation for however long a time we have. And this is enough, because if it came down to choosing whether to send a letter back home or to experience the present, then it is understandable to choose the latter. I would do that myself, and I wouldn't expect anyone to do differently.

Now, then, I begin to get a sense of life's possibilities opening up again. A life that is inclusive and varied is becoming more and more achievable. My people overseas show me how it can be done, and, seeing that it is eminently possible for me to do likewise, I wait with barely tethered imaptience to get started.