My Tuesday is finished. My classes went well, and here is a summary of them.

At 4pm I have a 4-student kids' class at a local community centre. Their ages run from 4 to 6. I have mixed feelings about this class. The kids are invariably well-behaved little children or ill-behaved little donkeys. The room is too big, there are no tables or chairs or whiteboards, and this leads the kids to run around like hamsters loose from their wheels. One of the kids is possibly learning-disabled. His mother has witnessed his behaviour in the class, and I wonder why she continues to bring him. Another kid is quite bright, but can be very disruptive. Lately though, he's been pretty good. More on these kids as they do things that deserve mentioning.

This class ends at 4:45pm, after which I rush 15 minutes out of town to teach a class of two kids at 5:30: one, a bright 8-year old girl; the other, a possibly brain-dead 10-year old boy. If I were this kid, I couldn't show my face in this class. A student, 2 years younger than I, can read, write, and operate her brain better than I can. I've tried communicating to this kid (and to his mother) that he needs to do some home-study, but to no avail. This class runs for 50, sometimes painful, minutes.

Then, quickly back to the main school, to teach the aforementioned junior high school student at 6:45pm for 45 minutes. I found a folk-tale from Quebec about a farmer who sold his soul to the Devil in exchange for the Devil's loup-garou minions doing all of his work for him at night. He had found an interesting Japanese tale about a maidservant, who, after a misunderstanding with her master's wife, was thrown into a well with her hands bound behind her back (soon to be followed by her grieving mother, and a few other family members). Years later, a never-before-seen insect emerged from the well, which, when inspected under a magnifying glass, displayed a shape very closely resembling the figure of a young women, with, you guessed it, her hands bound behind her back. Now, I wasn't able to glean morals from either of these stories, beyond the obvious: don't make deals with the Devil; and don't choose as your career to be a Japanese maidservant.

Next, it's to the home of a Japanese couple, where I typically get served a delicious meal. I try to opt out of this meal every other week. It's difficult to teach with mouthfuls of rice, or squid brains. Tonight I learned that the husband had been in two local triathlons about 15 years ago. We talked about this most of the hour I was there (8pm - 9pm). Rather than an obnoxious child, they own a small daschund (as do many, many Japanese couples.)

Finally, done. Back home to dinner and my girlfriend.

Tomorrow, I teach a once-a-month (too often for my tastes) nursery school class about 30 minutes out of town. I do not anticipate it being enjoyable. More on this after I return. If I return...