Ramble.
It’s time to write, to put some more words out into the aether, and keep our little story up to date. I realise I’ve been a bit lax over the past few weeks, and sure, I have plenty of excuses, but why bother? I have been busy, and lazy. That about sums it up, I’d say. So things have been changing, our lifestyle is adjusting ever so slightly, particularly now that we are ever so slightly employed. The interview we went to at the German International School of Working Children Down to the Bone turned out favourably.
Admittedly, we only have eight hours a week each - but this trifling amount covers the entirety of our rent. Can you believe it? I almost can. Not quite. I’m also supplementing my income by writing preview articles for the Arts/Events department of the company I used to work for, that delightful place, that I won’t mention by name, lest I speak poorly of it… at length, and this entire post be consumed by an irritation long gone. This means that we’re still living out of our savings to an extent, but no where near the extent that we had been for our first month.
Of course, we need to increase our hours in this place - or find second jobs. Given the friendly nature of this place, and the fact that teaching kids (and young adults) is vastly amusing, it would be better to just stay here. Oh, have I mentioned that I’m writing this in the staff room? I never really saw myself in a staff room, but here I am, being Mr Teacher. One of the few teachers that insists the kids call him by name, it confuses them a little, which makes it all the more worthwhile.
Unsurprisingly, but equally unhelpfully, is the fact that every noticeboard, timetable, announcement, every bit of important piece of information for a teacher is written or spoken in German. We were handed some workbooks for a few particular classes, and their appropriate “teacher’s book” equivalents, all for teaching English. The Teacher’s Books are in German. When the vaguely friendly over-handshaking Headmaster strolls into the staff room, and lets loose a speech of some importance to the crowd of teachers - it’s in German. Does any one explain it to us…? Well, no, not really. Nothing outside of “Ah, the Headmaster was just making an announcement.” Please understand, we are not put off by this. Nor am I complaining, most of the time, we’re just bemused. “Oh, refer to this board for class changes? I’m sorry Frau Whatsit, I don’t know how to read it.” “Ah… Of course. That is… problem. Hmm. We will sort it out later.”
This leads me to the next amusing thing. Perhaps a product of being involved in a school system for any length of time, the Germanfolk here have completely shattered our English-Austra-merican views of the German culture, and people in general. Organised? No. Efficient? Certainly not! A bit grumpy and officious - not… really. Example: I am given a timetable, it has a bunch of classes on it - but am told that only four of them will run during the first week, the others will be sorted out by next week. This is fairly reasonable, so, I am introduced to one English teacher, who in turn introduces me to the various other English teachers I will be working with (and poaching students from) this week. Sounds good. Ah, but they’ve never heard of me, and I’m not being vain here. I’m only famous in Australia, so I didn’t expect them to know my face and name on first sight and sound. They literally were completely unaware that anyone would be here to help them with the children who speak English better than they do. As it turns out, the teachers had been told that “English speaking young people, from Australia, are coming to the school, make use of them”. A goodly portion of them simply assumed we’d be students and weren’t sure what use we’d be. “Yes, Headmaster, whatever you say, Headmaster!”
That first week, I simply sat in on two lessons, spoke to the students briefly and let them ask me many, many questions. How old am I? Do I like Prague? Do I like them? Am I married? And an obvious one, am I a terrorist? Giggles all around. This week? A little better, I’ve taught four lessons, and have had ill-informed students not turn up to two. With two left in the week, I’ll see if I can get over half of them done. I wonder… if I’m paid for them all.
Renee’s integration into the schooling life is going a lot more smoothly. She is however, only working with one (maybe two?) classes - and their usual teacher is a lovely woman named Astrid, who is overly helpful in the nicest possible way. Honestly, I’m not sure how we’d get by without her. Unfortunately for Renee, when she occasionally has to take the whole class (not just the native speakers) - it turns out she has the single most uncontrollable class in the school. A congregation of innocent evil, and cheeky smiles. Apparently not even the Headmaster can keep them in line, what fun! She’s not too phased though, being mildly evil and intensely cheeky herself, these children are a pint-sized (but numerous) embodiment of values and ideals she is inherently connected to, and at one with. It’s chaotic Zen.
Sidenote: Before I change subject, it seems like most of the teachers in the staff room talk to us in order to practice their English skills. I’m not saying they don’t like us, or they’re not interested, but more the way they phrase their sentences, think before using complicated words or grammatical structures, and then use body language to check with us whether or not they’re saying it all correctly. They’re also all blown away that we speak only the one language, utterly blown away.
What else… what else… Ah, my laptop broke. Not this little one, the big one. The really, ridiculously large one, you all know the one I’m talking about. You can probably see it from where you’re sitting. Anyway, about a week after arriving in this blessed city, it started giving me all sorts of interesting error messages that I narrowed down to being a very severe problem with the graphics card. Many manufacturers make it nigh on impossible (or actually impossible) to replace a grapics card. Not mine though, it’s possible, but thoroughly difficult. First, hunting down the component itself… took a long time. A couple of weeks. Then finding a reasonably priced one. I mean, I could have bought an entirely new laptop for the price some people wanted - may they rot in Hades.
So, I find a new one, I purchase it, I wait anxiously. According to the USPS tracking system, it arrives in the Czech Republic… at my local post office. It has MADE it. They FOUND me. I am amazed. Renee and I rush to the post office, and have an incredibly confusing time, having been confronted with some sort of “take a ticket, go to a window” system with about 18 different buttons on it, all in Czech. We stare at this for a while, none of it makes sense, we go home. Are we defeated? Of course not, resourceful creatures such as we hop straight onto the interweb, and find a poorly written tutorial on “How to get your bloody packages” in the Czech Republic. Rush back. None of the buttons match what’s written on the website. Pick the closest one, and wait. Number called! Oh what joy! What dread! Will the lady behind the counter speak a drop of English?
No, she won’t. How will I get my precious package? By miming, of course. Miming a box, picking it up, and taking it away is surprisingly easy. Complete with lots of nodding, head shaking, and smiling - it worked.
Next step? Actually taking apart my laptop. A thrillingly painful experience. Horror at every turn, as the screen is removed, the keyboard lifted out, plastic is bent to nearly breaking point… and the terrible, terrible pain in my hands and wrists after using some incredibly crap screwdrivers to fight with some very stubborn screws. I have literally twisted and bent the metal ridged grips on the screwdrivers, and torn skin off of my hands. HOWEVER. I have a fully functioning laptop again… Well, two fully functioning laptops again.
Also, I will attempt to be more organised at this whole… keeping people up to date thing, from now on.
