fire! fire!

When I first experienced a fire drill in Turkey - I was so horrified by the carelessness I was convinced everyone would die in a real fire.  There was skipping and clapping and all around joy.

The Americans would NEVER do it that way.  This is about safety.  Insert 9/11 story about how everyone perfectly exited a building in a uniformed manner.  And so, our fired drills here are much more rigid.  It's been hard for the principal to get everyone to conform - even myself, as I've become used to the relaxed attitude rather than the silent march expectation.  I've been scolded several times for allowing my students to jump up and down to keep warm - as it was naughty playing.  Okay, maybe a few of them happened to be jumping in a puddled of water, formed in the grass on the field.

We had a fire drill today.

Wait.  Excuse me.  Our technology director told me in a passing huff, barely containing  his excitement.
"There was a real fire in the kitchen."
Phew!  I'm so glad we all got out.

It was during lunchtime - so though I didn't have a class, I went to the field, assuming I'd take my homeroom.  I lined up in the new location that I was directed to last time - assuming the rest of the 5s, would follow my lead - but our real lead was back from her conference and began lining up the classes in the old spot.  By the time I noticed it - she had at the same time and we made I contact. She hollered that the classes should be in order, ordering me over by her.

I motioned the grade lead over to me - telling her about the change.

And neither of us budged.

Sigh.