Valentines Day Strikes

I woke up early today to get ready for class at the University. Today is exam day! It is not a very nice way to celebrate Valentines Day but it is the only day to hold the exam. It is also my last class on the University campus. Next semester I won't be teaching that class. Instead, I will stick to training teachers at the training college. I am grateful for the end of the semester but I am also thankful for the chance to meet such wonderful students and learn more about university life!

After the exam was finished in my first class (I have three classes on Sundays), a student from a different class knocked on my door and politely asked if he could make an announcement. When I opened the door, a crowd of people rushed in my room and started yelling that it was a strike and all students had to leave the room.

As my students filed out of class, they looked at me with pleading eyes. It was clear that most of them really didn't want to leave class but didn't have a choice. When I looked outside, I expected to see an organized rally taking place in the courtyard. Instead, I only a large group of students, laughing and hanging out with their friends. The strike just seemed to mean that there was no class.

I was prepared to wait 30 minutes in the room until my next class started, to see if the students would come. A few minutes later, a large group of students from my 11:00 class all came to my room and asked if they could take the exam. They told me to hurry, before the strikers came back. They were all seated in their chairs and ready to take the exam.

Then the door flew open and a group of people started shouting and yelling. Crowding around me, the strikers demanded (in Arabic) that I packed up my things and left. My students rushed to my side and said, "Um, Ms. Delia. You better go now. Let us help you. Don't be scared. We will protect you." I had so many things to toss in my bag and I didn't want to bend all my papers. I told the angry strikers that the students are on strike, not me. The students were free to leave but I needed a few minutes to pack up my things. My students came in even closer and looked at me with impatient eyes.

After my bag was full, the strikers shouted and cheered as I left the room. My students kept a close ring around me until I left the compound. I kept walking straight until I was outside of the University campus. Then my students all rushed up to me, asking, "When can we take the exam?" We all decided to meet on campus at another time during the week.

I felt the worst for my students, the ones who did actually want to learn and yet who did not have that opportunity because of the endless interruptions. If not the strike one day, then a holiday the next, and the following day another excuse to cancel class. I have found that this is not a culture conducive to learning, or to teaching. It is not any one person's fault. The entire system seems so broken and I don't have the tools to fix it.

Happy Valentines Day Strikers!!!! On my way home, I decided to stop by the Lebanese Bakery to pick up a treat. Cashew, almond, and pistachio baklava! Yum!