Observations | Mr. Webb, subbing, and a flagball victory

“THE DEATHSTAR” (MY APARTMENT) – Any other time, I’d be pretty excited about the weight I’m losing.

I can’t really complain about my diet – if I want it, I eat it. Sure, I don’t eat a lot in the Maxwell cafeteria, but always until I am full. I usually glutton myself once a week when I run into Nairobi, and I’m constantly cooking noodles or pasta or snacking on Swedish Fish in the apartment. Add to that the fact that I just picked up a loaf of bread and a jar of Nutella for breakfast most, mornings, and I’d say it’s clear that I’m not really suffering.

But this blessing is really turning into a curse. I’m losing weight, relatively fast, and I will soon have to buy a new belt. Shirts are bigger, pants are bigger, and I’m scared that will eventually add up into me being forced to buy more clothes! On my meager $40/month salary, not a great thing.

Ok, so this is the continent that’s had the biggest problem with starvation in the past. But still, who’da thunk that this would be my issue? Eat (no pun intended) your heart out, Jared from Subway.

Three observations:

1. “Hey, Chris…” “Uh, it’s Mr. Webb.” “Oh, my bad. Mr. Webb…” I remember having real difficulties accepting my formal title from students. It made me sound old, and I really didn’t think I’d enjoy it as much as others would. If anything, I’d just allow students to call me Chris, not Mr. Webb, if there were no other faculty around.
   
   But alas, I’ve come to accept it; I am Mr. Webb, not Chris, not buddy, not pal, not Mr. Chris, not “hey!”, not C.Webb, not Webber, not “God’s gift to women” (Ok, just that last one.): Mr. Webb. And don’t think about calling me anything else.


2. Once a student, then a dean, now… a teacher. Finally, my day has come. A few weeks ago, I volunteered to substitute teach for Mrs. Rusunescu while she was gone to the States for the first week of October. The week has finally come, and today, I finally had the opportunity to stand in front of three classes and teach English.
   
   It began with the Sophomores, a pretty good class. They listened to almost everything I said, and reading a story in class with them took up almost the whole period, not leaving much time for preparing for Senior English.
   
   This class was a bit more challenging. They definitely knew how the class was supposed to be run, and they didn’t care to be “taught” much of anything. We also went through a piece a bit more challenging to understand, hindering my teaching ability by 84%. Ah well…
   
   My best class was definitely the third and last, the Juniors. They were as enthusiastic about stuff as the Sophomores, without the Senioritis attitude. I laughed out loud during out reading of “The Crucible” when the girls and guys would openly voice their disdain for the stunts that the characters were trying to pull.
   
   All in all, it was a fairly successful trio of classes, especially considering it was my first day. I know that I came across much softer than I’d planned on, but that’s allright. I’ve got a much better handle on things, and I know how to lay down the law in the classroom.
   
   Come Monday, it’s on.


3. I’m not a flagball loser anymore. Six years ago, I began the worst losing streak in almost all of sports history. I mean, I probably made the Royals look pretty good. I couldn’t win a game, no matter how hard I tried. I drafted the best players, set up great systems of running teams, scored touchdowns, pulled flags, and made play after play. Still, no wins.
   
   But, as of Wednesday, my new career flagball record stands at 56 losses, 2 ties… and one win. We beat Shalom’s Saints 8-0, snapping an unprecedented and unimaginable sports run. On our first defensive play of the game, I sniffed out a screen pass and intercepted the ball, and if it hadn’t been for one man standing in my way, I’d have run it back for a touchdown.
   
   Either way, the play set the tone for the rest of the game, and after scoring one girl TD (if she makes the play, it’s worth two bonus points), we held strong and came out with the victory. I had a few nice “tackles,” including one where a teammate and I flipped over each other while going for the ball carrier’s flag (I still made the play), but we both pulled ourselves off the ground and finished out the game.
   
   Another scary moment in the game came late, when Valerie and one of my RAs, Ivan, collided with eachother on a pass play. It looked like Valerie had a sure interception, but it also seemed certain that Ivan would make the catch. Both of them hit the ground - Ivan apparently was unconscious for a moment, and Valerie appeared shaken pretty bad - but after a few minutes, they got up and shook it off.
   
   The game ended with Elvin and I walking back to our apartment, happy and exhausted instead of ticked and exhausted. I woke up the next morning, bruised and sore, but still glowing from our surprise victory.
   
   Next game is Monday. Am I about to begin a winning streak?

Ok, I’m off to Nairobi. Elvin, a student named Phil*, and I are going to get some Indian food. I’ve never tasted it before. Let’s see if it’s good.

-cw


*Names have been changed to protect the innocent... or presumed innocent.