Most businesses here have guards at the door. A uniformed man, often with a gun, who guards the place. But they do a lot more than just stand there. The guard at the bank helps old ladies work the ATM. The guard at WiseMart gets things off the high shelves for you. The guard at Novo checks your bags at the bag counter on your way in, and checks your receipt on the way out. The guard at Jollibee will help clean off tables if the staff is busy. Guards open doors, hail taxis, answer questions, watch your things for you.
The library gets chaotic at recess, so I recently put some of the regular library goers to work as my assistants. I have kids to do the library cards, kids to straighten the books, and two guards. One of my favorite fourth grade boys, Ervino, and whichever friend he gets each day, guard the library door. They enforce the rules of the library, and Ervino is very serious about his job. He doesn’t let anyone in with food or drink. He makes sure people aren’t playing or goofing around in the library. One rule I made was that if you’re in the library, you need to be reading. Otherwise go outside. I did this mostly to keep the kids from standing in a half circle a foot from my desk and staring at me, but it’s also good for kids who are running around or just doing nothing.
The other day Ervino was guarding the library in the late afternoon, a time when not too many kids come in. When he comes to me with a problem, it usually takes 2 or 3 minutes for me to figure out what the problem is, because of his terrible English, and my awful Ilonggo. It’s really hard not to laugh when after 2 minutes of back-and-forth, I finally figure out he’s telling me a boy kicked (probably accidentally) the bookshelf. It’s okay, I tell him, the bookshelf will be fine.
Some of the problems Ervino came to me with that day: Those three boys are not reading, they are just sitting. That boy kicked the bookshelf. That girl has food. Should we let students bring their bags in here, because what if they put a book in their bag without checking it out? (not all students have library cards; and that problem took at least 5 minutes to understand.)
Ervino came up to me and said, “that boy is magpamoyayaw.” I have no idea what that means. I look at the boy. Nothing out of the ordinary. “kaintyende ka?” (do you understand?) he asks. No. What does magpamoyayaw mean? Ervino looks pained. Then he leans over and whispers a cuss word in my ear. Oh! He is cussing? Yes, yes, he is cussing. Okay, so I have no idea how to pronounce the word that means cussing, and I would feel like an idiot telling a child not to cuss when I can’t even say what I don’t want him to do. I also don’t want to tell Ervino to reprimand the kid, because he is just a kid himself and it’s just a cuss word. But Ervino asks me if I want him to tell the kid to stop cussing, and I say yes. He tells the kid to stop, then spells the word that means ‘to cuss’ for me. I still can’t pronounce it.
But I really like having the boys around to keep a (very close) eye on things, and they love their job. It’s an important, grown-up job. (Ervino is the one in the back)
The library gets chaotic at recess, so I recently put some of the regular library goers to work as my assistants. I have kids to do the library cards, kids to straighten the books, and two guards. One of my favorite fourth grade boys, Ervino, and whichever friend he gets each day, guard the library door. They enforce the rules of the library, and Ervino is very serious about his job. He doesn’t let anyone in with food or drink. He makes sure people aren’t playing or goofing around in the library. One rule I made was that if you’re in the library, you need to be reading. Otherwise go outside. I did this mostly to keep the kids from standing in a half circle a foot from my desk and staring at me, but it’s also good for kids who are running around or just doing nothing.
The other day Ervino was guarding the library in the late afternoon, a time when not too many kids come in. When he comes to me with a problem, it usually takes 2 or 3 minutes for me to figure out what the problem is, because of his terrible English, and my awful Ilonggo. It’s really hard not to laugh when after 2 minutes of back-and-forth, I finally figure out he’s telling me a boy kicked (probably accidentally) the bookshelf. It’s okay, I tell him, the bookshelf will be fine.
Some of the problems Ervino came to me with that day: Those three boys are not reading, they are just sitting. That boy kicked the bookshelf. That girl has food. Should we let students bring their bags in here, because what if they put a book in their bag without checking it out? (not all students have library cards; and that problem took at least 5 minutes to understand.)
Ervino came up to me and said, “that boy is magpamoyayaw.” I have no idea what that means. I look at the boy. Nothing out of the ordinary. “kaintyende ka?” (do you understand?) he asks. No. What does magpamoyayaw mean? Ervino looks pained. Then he leans over and whispers a cuss word in my ear. Oh! He is cussing? Yes, yes, he is cussing. Okay, so I have no idea how to pronounce the word that means cussing, and I would feel like an idiot telling a child not to cuss when I can’t even say what I don’t want him to do. I also don’t want to tell Ervino to reprimand the kid, because he is just a kid himself and it’s just a cuss word. But Ervino asks me if I want him to tell the kid to stop cussing, and I say yes. He tells the kid to stop, then spells the word that means ‘to cuss’ for me. I still can’t pronounce it.
But I really like having the boys around to keep a (very close) eye on things, and they love their job. It’s an important, grown-up job. (Ervino is the one in the back)
