6th grade road to ruins

I have walked the streets of Ephesus and sat in the same amphitheater attended by Pythagoras. I've checked out remarkably well-preserved architrave sculptures and hugged at least one Ionic column. And I didn't do it alone. Last week 68 6th graders, 12 other adults and I explored Turkey's "Road to Ruins" along the Mediterranean coast. If it was Greek or Roman, over 2,000 years old and in pretty good repair, we saw it. Didyma, Miletus, Ephesus, the hill town of Priene where Alexander the Great once had a house overlooking what was then the coast. Myth, legend and good, old-fashion middle school social studies melded in perfect harmony, much like the golden numbers used to construct the shrines, arches and triumphal gates we visited. (Here I am with Medusa's head, which used to be part of an architrave on the temple of Apollo in Didyma.)

Of course, if you ask the 12 year olds, they remember playing truth or dare on the bus. eating chocolate pudding for dessert and shining flashlights at their roommates to wake them up. All very age appropriate. And yet each one gave a detailed speech about one of the structures or sites we visited, despite knocking knees and the potential life-threatening embarrassment in front of their friends. They did a great job, for the most part. Many of the talks attracted groups of retirees (the only other people touring Turkey at the moment), as generous and adoring an audience you'd ever hope to find, even the ones who didn't speak English. I had to brief a group of kids at one point about how to handle cheek pinching, hair ruffling and even exuberant embraces from perfect strangers. Life-threatening embarrassment reared its pre-adolescent head again, which delighted the grandmas and grandpas all the more. (Here is the famous library of Celsus in Ephesus, a queen among ruins.)

The highlight of the trip for me, besides traipsing around the old stone and listening to my students impress the cruise-ship crowd, was watching a play put on by each of the two drama elective classes. The brilliant drama teacher, Mrs Aussie H, had the kids adapt a myth to perform in the great amphitheaters we'd be visiting. One group chose Persephone and Hades. The other did Narcissus and Echo. Both plays were designed to be staged without props or scenery, so the kids themselves played those roles (linking arms to provide a throne for Zeus; standing in as trees or a stormy ocean, etc). I can safely say that nothing as inspired has played in the great theaters of Miletus and Ephesus in the last millenium. The German Elderhostel group in Ephesus was particularly taken with Persephone and Hades, especially the daring portrayal of Zeus by the shortest boy in the grade. In Miletus, Narcissus and Echo brought down the house with their reworking of Aphrodite into a SoCal mall rat named Aphroditzy who went around proclaiming, "You are, like, so cursed." (The great theater of Miletus is pictured here.)

We also held a mini-Olympics in the hippodrome in Aphrodisias and a debate in the bouletarion (town hall) in Priene. The question of whether or not to stop for Turkish apple tea was resoundingly approved by a council of the people of group A. Every day, the hotel packed us a lunch, which ate amid the ruins or on the beach of the Aegean (the weather was stunning for the time of year). Every evening there was an activity from movie night to a traditional and modern Turkish dance show by a youth sports club in the town. One early morning activity (unplanned) was watching Obama's thrilling acceptance speech. We adults had struggled out of bed at 6 a.m. expecting to see the returns, only to find that the election had been decided! Our cheers woke the kids. There were only two American teachers on the trip (myself being one of them), but most of the parent chaperones were American--and the non-Americans (Canadians and Australians, mostly) were as interested in the outcome (and as pro-Obama) as we were. My fellow American, a Republican evangelical from Texas won the diplomacy award for not raining on our parade, even though Obama had rained on hers. But she did draw the line at videotaping the kids cheering for Obama on the grounds they might be victims of peer pressure. (As a 6th grader in the Reagan era, I never knew a Republican kid to bow to peer pressure, but kids these days might be different...)

Partisan politics and stunning election victories aside, the trip was organized and ideal for the age. The kids had a blast and, I'm glad to say, were excited to be there and grateful for the opportunity. I was grateful right along with them. Like the 12 years olds, this trip changed me. After a few days of the bus leaving on time, the kids chatting happily (ie: non-dramatically or meanly) in the back and the site presentations flowing smoothly, I lost some of my (very deep) aversion to field trips. After the chaperones were able to sneak off to shop for souvenirs one evening (leaving just two behind), I was almost completely over it. When we made it back safely with all the passports and all the kids, flying through the night, changing planes and passing through customs in record time, I was ready to do it all again next year. I'll bring more money for beautiful Turkish pottery and much less anxiety about what could happen. (A detail from a statue in Ephesus--and a reflection of my internal serenity as I contemplate next year's trip to Turkey...)

PS: I have more pics of the trip. If you are not on Facebook (where they are posted) and would like to see them, send me an email or comment below.