Rain Like Thunder

I started class last week, and its been absolutely exhausting. On Monday I rode my bike to a small unidocente school, which means the school has one teacher for 1st through 6th grade, and in this case, another for kindergarten. When I pulled up on my bicycle (after the harrowing bridge crossing) the school was full of cows. A few frightened students and I stood at the end of the driveway, until I decided to walk my bike by the cows (and a rather large and terrifying bull) and nothing happened. It wasn't until a father came to drop his kid off and began throwing rocks and dirt clods at the cows that they started trotting away. Apparently the neighboring farms put their animals to graze there on weekends because its cheap pasture. I've been on a bus in traffic for fifteen minutes waiting for someone to clear those same cows from the road. Class was even more exciting than that though, especially because it was my first time teaching in a school! The teacher started class with a prayer and the national anthem, and then turned the class over to me. We talked about greetings and basic conversation, and that is basically what I've gone over with all of my classes.
In every class so far I have made a point of asking each student's name individually. Since I will be working with over 200 students across five days, I probably will not learn their names for a long time, but that has become one of my personal goals. On tuesday and wednesday I went to what I consider 'my' school. Its the one my host mother works at, and the one that is in my town, and the biggest one. Most importantly, its the only school where the children see me outside of class. Yesterday, on my way to the beach at least ten different kids said either "hola profe" or "hello teacher", which brightened my day considerably. At this school three grades come in the morning, and three grades come in the afternoon, so my longest day lasts from 7 in the morning to 5 in the afternoon.
At my other school (a substantial bus ride away), the classes are organized so that in the morning fifth and sixth are in one room, and third and fourth are in the other room. First and second come in the afternoon and are each in a different room. I found out that one of the teachers is either the most interesting person in Osa, or the best liar for miles around. He told me that the school was built by American troops in 1964, and aside from being a teacher he is a notary and a lawyer, and his office is across the street. At one point while I was teaching sixth grade, he was teaching fifth, and he interrupted class to meet with a client. He also told me that he studied Medicine in Armenia while it was part of the Soviet Union, but had to stop when the university was destroyed in an earthquake. When he came back to Costa Rica he studied Law and Education at the same time, and now he is a few years from retirement as a teacher, but he'll stay a lawyer. His dream is to argue a case in Rome, 'the birthplace of law'.
As I was writing this a rain-storm swept through my neighborhood. I was sitting on the porch (the coolest place in the house) and slowly as the sky darkened I began to hear a low, dull, roar. Like a truck engine miles away. It grew steadily louder, until I heard waves were crashing just behind the line of trees across the road. Then the leaves start shaking, and a roar like thunder breaks out from behind the field. The rocks on the road in front of the house start jumping, and all of a sudden the thick plodding of rain on a metal roof fills the house, and no one can hear anything until the storm passes. Least of all my host father trying to watch his soccer game.