One year

One of the best things in life is being able to meet old friends again.

Especially those with whom I had the pleasure and privilege to have worked closely with.

Seeing them again did serve to also bring home the stark contrast in the previous and current working environments for me.

It is always important for me to acknowledge that spending my beginning years as a teacher in my previous school had been a transformational experience. I am amazed at how much I have learnt from the 6 years I spent there. While I had prospered and flourished, I was humbled by the favour and respect I received, and I did my best to give back what I could.

I did not presume to think I was ever going to leave for 'greener pastures'. My old school was an Eden to me. I never considered the travelling distance a hinderance. The joy and the fulfilment that I received in great abundance on a daily basis kept me going, soaring, giving.

Having been in my new school for a year, I am candid enough to know that I am still adjusting. Obviously the people are fantastic. The pupils shine in many different ways and are certainly not the terrors they once were. They came into the school with fearsome reputations, but they are irresistably metamophorsised. The teachers work very hard because these kids are hard work.

It is hard to pin down. Dynamics are different. I am starting from the bottom, much like when I first started out. It is refreshing to see things from a different height, different angle, with a different mission now. It is equally, if not more fulfilling, satisfying.

I am not sure if I am a better, more capable teacher. But I understand better the complexities of life, the challenges that we face in society, the power of teachers to shape the lives of the downtrodden. I see all these through the lens of the youths under my charge.

Undoubtedly it is a journey, fraught with uncertainties in the beginning. Now I am cruising, more aware, more in tune.

One more year. After that? I am not so sure where my path will lead me to.

I know one thing, that I am in the good hands of the Lord and He will see me through.

End in sight

A proud tradition (rightly deserved, if I might add) was broken. A run of 6 Stan-Chart marathons in a row ended this year.

I did run in the modest 10km. Common sense dictated that it would be foolhardy to attempt a 42km run. I have not yet regained the confidence, especially after the very unpleasant experience at the Sundown, where I had to quit the race because of injury. Thinking about that still stings like a sore wound, simply because I hated quitting.

On a positive note, after that awful Sundown experience, I have managed to complete a few more races, the longest being the AHM, which I emerged unscathed.

Come next year, my Sabbathical will end. My back injury will be a distant memory by then. I'm committed to running (and completing) the Sundown 42km 2010, to celebrate the overcoming of my injury and Mikayla's 2nd birthday.