I was selected to represent my school at the Annual Near East Schools Association conference in Bangkok, Thailand April 1-4, 2004. I will be presenting a workshop titled, "Activities to Engage Students". It's an all-expenses paid trip and only four teachers from Lebanon were chosen to go. I'm pretty psyched about it. The conference days are adjacent to our ten day spring break so I'll have an extended two-week holiday in Southeast Asia.

In other news, I visited Cairo over the weekend. My former school had a staff party, but it wasn't as fun as last year. The new teachers there are quite tame compared to the group I was with. It was fun to see everyone though and there was a comfortable, familiar feeling to the place. But, boy am I glad I don't live there anymore. I much prefer the relatively clean, hassle-free surroundings of Beirut.

I'm a bit stressed out this week. I have the normal compliment of class preparation and grading that goes with every pre-holiday week, not to mention the in-class management problems of restless students and absenteeism. (There's always a few early travelers, but this week 20 out of 70 seventh graders are home with "bronchitis"...the diagnosis skills of some of these doctors are suspect at best.) In addition to all of that, I have a swim meet to coach on FRIDAY afternoon. Plus two practices this week. There's also two concerts, a staff wine & cheese, and the middle school musical performance of "Guys and Dolls" to attend. Throw in some errands---pick up photos, banking, haircut, and travel agent---and it will be a miracle if I get my Christmas shopping done. And I still try to walk/run an hour a day...but I fear my resolve is melting away with the added stress of this week.

I just returned from an evening presentation of Handel's Messiah performed by The University of Balamand Choir at the National Evangelical Church of Beirut. There's nothing like the Hallelujah chorus to get you in the spirit of the season. Wreaths, poinsettias and a large tree decorated the sanctuary and the whole place filled up with the true meaning of Christmas...sitting on hard, straight backed pews, wearing a cozy, wool sweater, conscience that each blink of the eyes is just a split-second longer than the previous blink until you are dozing serenely, dreaming of sugarplums.

The students asked for a party this week. In my typical "bah-humbug" fashion I politely dismissed their futile attempt to not learn something. Instead, I suggested a "secret Santa" game in which we would each write an anonymous poem to a classmate and provide clues for them to figure out who wrote them the poem. They didn't embrace that idea. In fact, no one has mentioned a thing about it in two days. Mission accomplished.

Happy Holidays everyone.