I call on the students alphabetically to read the selection. It helps me remember their names. Today I hope to complete A through C. Abdul begins reading, then after a paragraph, I call on Aferworki. The students in 9F sit three to a desk, three to a book in an airless room with a whooshing overhead fan and three dangling window shutters.
By the time I reach Berhane, we’ve hit the Ferris wheel. I stop and draw a circle on the board. I make little dashes for seats and add stick figures with round faces and curly hair. I step back like Picasso and decide my masterpiece looks like a fuzzy alarm clock with whiskers. I tell the class the wheel goes round and round and people ride on it.
“Why do they do that?” Menghistu asks.
“Because it’s fun.” I point to the highest spot on my hairy circle. “On a clear day, you…uh, you can see forever from up there.” Thank you, Barbra Streisand
“Sir?” This from Zerai who sits in the back and likes to heckle me. “Can we read about the camel?”