Electrical Fire, Typhoon Doksuri

Tuesday 12/9/17.  I step into the hall of the third floor of B building to say goodbye to my Chemistry students and welcome the first batch of 9th graders for the day into my room.  The halls are well lit and the sun often casts a warm glow through the clounds, fog, or smog as it brightens the orange-cream painted concrete walls.  This time, the smog was inside.  It smells like burning plastic and the air was thick.  Did I leave on a hot plate in the lab? No.

What is that smell?  Mr Blackburn asks a student

I think there is a fire in the art room upstairs, the student casually replies.

Is it out? Is everything okay? 

I think so, says the student

It obviously wasn't a big enough concern for me to deal with at the moment, so I begin my class with my timid group of English Language Learners as I usually do - telling them how glad I am to see them, and how glad I am that they are here.  The two cute Korean girls in the front smile, and the wily Vietnamese boys puff their chests.  Those physical responses make my morning.

After 10 minutes, the fire alarm sounds.  Not having ever seen or heard of the evacuation plan, I tell my students to grab their backpacks, and calmly follow me out into the hall.  We proceed through the thickening smoke and into the field with the other 500 students and staff.  It's a sunny 85 degree morning.  People immediately start sweating.  Friends congregate, only a handful of them breaking the typical social barrier between the Koreans and Vietnamese.  An hour passes.  Students start playing games and doing push-up competitions, their patience being tested.  The Vietnamese fire department arrives with great awe from students and staff.  One truck, seven dudes,  zero supplies.  My question was, do these guys have training to decide if the building is safe for us enter?  Training to mitigate an electrical fire with smoke pouring through the ceiling tiles of a 4 story building?  That would be great.  It's almost lunchtime and our students are hot and hungry.  With little collective experience navigating this type of situation at our school, we as a staff made the call to resume school and disperse the learning that was to take place in B building for the remainder of the day.

The conversation to open my rambunctious 5th period class that afternoon started with mindful breaths and sharing gratitudes about the important things in life.  Their minds were struggling to make sense of the mornings chaos.  I shared what I think about when things are unplanned, potentially dangerous, and scary.  If the people I love and I are safe and healthy, then everything else is details - at least in that moment.  I shared with them how glad I was that everyone was safe and healthy.  I let them know its hard to learn with those need aren't met.

Friday 15/9/17.  All after school activities were cancelled in preparation for the impending rain and mild wind from the outskirts of Typhoon Doksuri that is now blasting Hanoi with decimeters of rain.  I had planned a 2 hour after school lab with my AP Chemistry students, but due to the change of plans, some of them had to take the bus home immediately.  The two who live within walking distance of school stayed with me in the lab for over an hour, discussing the culture of St. Paul, the implications of the academic pressure placed on many Korean students, and what it is like a part of an international education system.  The two students who stuck around are Seniors, working hard to get into top-tier American schools next year.  The soon-to-be-graduates are exceptional people and poster students.  They are open-minded, polite, inquisitive,  driven, interested, athletes, and freakishly intelligent.  Perfect SAT, soccer-team-captain, science-debate-champion type kids.  These off-the-clock conversations with students are worth their weight in gold.  They shared with me that Doksuri means Eagle in Korean.  We are the St. Paul Eagles.  Typhoon Doksuri was making the Eagles a stronger community.  Cool.

Friday 15/9/17.  I joined a small crew of friends at one of their lovely apartments for brews, games, conversation, laughs, and a 30th birthday celebration.  11pm quickly turned into 2am as we became lost in a debate about the philosophy of educational leadership.   It was worth every minute and it feels great to have a crew of coworkers who share passion for work and play.  I gave a friend a ride home through the deserted wet streets of Hanoi, only to realize I forgot the "late night" key to my apartment.  Exhausted, and not wanting to disturb my neighbors, I fell asleep on the landing of the marble staircase to the sound of the rain pelting the street and pond.   I woke at 4:30, miserable, hot, and thirsty.  I hopped on my motorbike and cruised through Hanoi, stopping at hotels, waking up receptionists asleep in their chairs, nearly begging for a room.

Full, one said.  The rain bring everyone in at 1 & 2am.  

F.  

No no.  Cannot accept money.  Need credit card, said another.

Double F.  

I searched 6 hotels and advertised homestays and finally found one at 5:30, just as the first light was hitting the city.   I woke at 11am grateful to be safe and healthy.   I could have avoided this with proper planning.  Instead I chose piss-poor performance.  There is always next time.