Bamboo Poles For Chuppah

Legend

-Do you understand?
Silence. There are only the crickets and the ball rolling and straw would be a scene from the cartoon: the class is silent.
He looked for a good twenty minutes the teacher in her writhing in a demonstration organized in thousands of places and pitfalls, and swear all, have also tried to understand.
But, I also swear by their stuff there that is ancient Arabic. I would add is that some dialect of the mountains, the dialect. Preliminary close.
The bell rings after a minute of silent mourning and with due regard to the neurons already rendered the twenty-five guys. "
-Well, then check the next day. Bye .- and before anyone, even the worst lick, could open his mouth, he disappears out the door.
Trauma.
The class is reduced to an aquarium: twenty-two fish silent and motionless stare the windows thinking about how well you would be out there. A second later you are going to march on a war footing, "that bitch!" "I did not understand anything," panic and hysteria urletti, who quickly type a text message to her mother "called Professor of repetition, but that I have check mate the day after tomorrow ", who still lost, fixing the slate, half hoping that the problem dissolves, that node of the circle is loose and free-solution and let me get this damn subject, math is not applied to astronomy! - and no one notices him.
Log in and greets the class in a whisper.
Installation folder and coat on the chair, sits down, signs the register, looks around-the-chaos continues, then tap the pen on the table.
The class is silent.
"Good morning. Today missing your professor, you have two hours of extra duties with me-she turns to the blackboard math-You did? "
A low moan confirmation.
He gets up, looks at the evidence written in chalk: hand under his chin, absorbed expression, legs crossed.
After a minute, he turns to the class.
"Some of you got something, this demonstration?"
deny, resigned, heads bowed.
"Me neither."
Alzano eyes in disbelief.
A professor? A math professor who does not understand a demonstration? It is not possible, and indeed we are in-theme-is a result not acceptable, but stories are!
He takes the eraser and erase all traces of those hieroglyphics.
Now everything is quiet, the nightmare is gone, the kids, they see peace back on the black plate. For those who want
-he says-I now re-explain. If there is to listen, you anything but silent.
From the moment you lay the chalk on the slate, the class charms, they are all caught in a bubble of magic numbers, a dip in an ocean of money, formulas, equations and expressions. Before
looked like a pit, that ocean!
full of rocks, where sea wreck without aid, lightless depths, to suffer deficiencies.
And now, as he quietly speaks of the circle and straight lines that intersect, the ocean is beautiful, without limitation, clean and safe float is so easy, and just feel you're about to go under, pahf!, A buoy appears to lift.
He goes on, the cast travels, draw lines, make points, scraped away the rust that was attached to the brain of children, scraped away the doubt, scratch away the mistrust, fear of sinking in the waters of numbers.
concludes, neatly scribbled on the blackboard of numbers, a drawing, a pair of formulas. Ten minutes and you're done.
Here, I have taught piano-so-says you know something?
He sits, waiting for answers, they explore the class. While waiting
reactions, sitting on the chair, elegantly, studies the class. Waiting
judgments, sitting on the edge of the chair, legs crossed and arms folded smartly-dressed in suit and blue tie-shirt-blue, the class includes looking into the eyes of everybody some concern, some signs of life.
And they, almost open-mouthed, staring at him.
The astonished look, the look, try to see if it has wings, under his coat, a tail, horns, they want to see if maybe he is human-wire, is a robot? -.
dirty hair and plaster from the jacket's sleeve whitewashed, the result of too much enthusiasm in the explanation, his eyes shone when he came to the end-mission-accomplished, a hint of a satisfied smile to see the look too convinced of Scarlett, the landslide of math-delayed high school each year with 4 - no, really: it could not be human.
And then a chorus of yes, a lot of nodding his head, smiles, joy of having finally realized -But then I'm not so stupid, I can do the math! -. E-
The Professor always called him so because by now, the boys of the 5H, the more danger in math class all the cool school of scientific Lanza, common near Lanzano, where the average is 8 in every science class- , glad this happened, move your gaze from the students, then looks in the corner, back row left, next to the window.
A girl, distraught, he was enchanted.

He, who risked being sent back to the field every year, always save the skin of our teeth, that she hated arithmetic, algebra and geometry to death, and crying of anger on those bloody books that brought only disappointment, she first of every hour of mathematics had a lump in my stomach, and after only wanted to open the window and jump out, he had understood.
He understood, yes, it was on the famous bulb, had opened the door, he found the life jacket to hold onto.
That girl would be out of high school with honors, with a flawless second run, and that it then entered the faculty of mathematics.
That girl was me.




[this is a fiction, any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental]