An infallible indication of being involved in a new school term is when a spectacular sunrise is merely taken as the prelude to a new day of unrewarding teaching rather than being taken as a magnificent affirmation of the majesty of god. Or something.
I even found myself muttering part of the ‘red sky’ weather lore and gloomily assuming that the day was going to degenerate into the sullen overcast stance taken by weather from my own country. Especially at the start of a term!
But, begone harsh thoughts! Last night saw two positive elements my the future life in Catalonia: the Tesco phones were made to work by Toni’s technical skill at changing the BT dedicated lead into something more Europe-friendly and I recorded my first telephone answering message in Spanish.
This was not a painless process as my pronunciation was dismissed with a pre-emptory “No!” on an embarrassing number of occasions and I am sure that the present message has only been allowed to stand because it gave Toni some sort of malicious pleasure to think of my British friends and acquaintances listening in mute horror to my semi literate efforts. My message is now in two languages and is short and to the point. No longer the individual and ironic delivery but basic and ordinary. Though I am sure that my impeccable accent will startle the native Spanish speakers too!
The setting up of the phone managed to get me out of my end of first day lethargy and, indeed, the house. Having to go to an electrical shop and ask not only for the small telephone plug but also for the machine to fix the wires into it was something of a triumph at my level of linguistic incompetence, but having the actual lead in my hands allowed a certain gestural fluency to aid my attempts!
There should be a word for the bone-deep tiredness which comes after the first day of teaching in a new term. It is that particular level of despair mixed with the realization that there is a whole term ahead – in Spain unmitigated by the hope of a half-term holiday. We are here for the long slog to Easter. I suppose it will give us a very real appreciation of the suffering necessary in a guilt ridden Catholic country to appreciate The Passion!
The timetable for the exams before the exams has been drawn up and we are all proceeding in a state of ill concealed hysteria – and it is only the second day back!
People are already talking about the holidays for next year in February 2011 when it has been proposed and supinely accepted by the spineless unions that a week be gifted to us in February which will be gathered up in the first week of July. Sounds like an altogether bad plan – though from a purely selfish point of view I could see how it could benefit me, were I to soldier on to the end of next year.
As I am feeling at the moment there is as much likelihood of that happening as staging an “All Is Forgiven Party” for That Woman rather than burning the long treasured candle I have of her when she finally loosens her claw-like grip on life.
At the moment living is Spain is very expensive, especially with the pound in its present etiolated condition, and our present habitation is well beyond our reasonable means. With 19% unemployed in this country the situation is unlikely to get substantially better, though you would have thought that the poor rich would be begging homeless people like myself to come in live in their palatial spreads for very little money. Such, sadly, appears not to be the case.
Still, with a newly working telephone and tottering piles of unsorted books who can be unsatisfied.
Rhetorical.
I even found myself muttering part of the ‘red sky’ weather lore and gloomily assuming that the day was going to degenerate into the sullen overcast stance taken by weather from my own country. Especially at the start of a term!
But, begone harsh thoughts! Last night saw two positive elements my the future life in Catalonia: the Tesco phones were made to work by Toni’s technical skill at changing the BT dedicated lead into something more Europe-friendly and I recorded my first telephone answering message in Spanish.
This was not a painless process as my pronunciation was dismissed with a pre-emptory “No!” on an embarrassing number of occasions and I am sure that the present message has only been allowed to stand because it gave Toni some sort of malicious pleasure to think of my British friends and acquaintances listening in mute horror to my semi literate efforts. My message is now in two languages and is short and to the point. No longer the individual and ironic delivery but basic and ordinary. Though I am sure that my impeccable accent will startle the native Spanish speakers too!
The setting up of the phone managed to get me out of my end of first day lethargy and, indeed, the house. Having to go to an electrical shop and ask not only for the small telephone plug but also for the machine to fix the wires into it was something of a triumph at my level of linguistic incompetence, but having the actual lead in my hands allowed a certain gestural fluency to aid my attempts!
There should be a word for the bone-deep tiredness which comes after the first day of teaching in a new term. It is that particular level of despair mixed with the realization that there is a whole term ahead – in Spain unmitigated by the hope of a half-term holiday. We are here for the long slog to Easter. I suppose it will give us a very real appreciation of the suffering necessary in a guilt ridden Catholic country to appreciate The Passion!
The timetable for the exams before the exams has been drawn up and we are all proceeding in a state of ill concealed hysteria – and it is only the second day back!
People are already talking about the holidays for next year in February 2011 when it has been proposed and supinely accepted by the spineless unions that a week be gifted to us in February which will be gathered up in the first week of July. Sounds like an altogether bad plan – though from a purely selfish point of view I could see how it could benefit me, were I to soldier on to the end of next year.
As I am feeling at the moment there is as much likelihood of that happening as staging an “All Is Forgiven Party” for That Woman rather than burning the long treasured candle I have of her when she finally loosens her claw-like grip on life.
At the moment living is Spain is very expensive, especially with the pound in its present etiolated condition, and our present habitation is well beyond our reasonable means. With 19% unemployed in this country the situation is unlikely to get substantially better, though you would have thought that the poor rich would be begging homeless people like myself to come in live in their palatial spreads for very little money. Such, sadly, appears not to be the case.
Still, with a newly working telephone and tottering piles of unsorted books who can be unsatisfied.
Rhetorical.
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